‘Mankind Limited’

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This book  ⇑⇑⇑ should be a movie. Somewhere in Hollywood right now there are actors waiting for their agents to deliver this story in script format to them. The makings of all action-packed adventure films is here. I can see the film in my mind’s eye.

But this one is different.

It’s not fast-paced for the thrill of it alone. It needs to be to get the message across. Mankind could be on the threshold of just such a future. Time is racing.

This one could be us.

Maybe a few years down the line yet, maybe already almost there in some similar format. Change a few details. Replace one group for another. Look behind the motives in politics and corporations. Stretch the reality just a little. Ask ourselves questions looking through the light of a different lens.

It feels like us, it acts like us, it may very well come to be.

It could be The Secret we all hold and may one day need.

The future may be closer than we think.

It only takes a small leap of imagination to take us from where we are now to Mankind Limited.

Scott Bailey is a writer I follow here on WordPress.

I downloaded his book a few weeks ago after reading an excerpt from it on his blog. It wasn’t until this week that I finally had the chance to read the book.  I like a good action-packed adventure as much as the next one but I liked, even more, what Scott communicated in the story.

I believe there is more to follow and I’ll be waiting. If we have time and I’m still aware…

 

Scott’s book is available through Amazon.

His blog can be found here.

 

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Logophile

I’ve touched those words before now,

They reached and asked me to,

Tongued with tenderness their tone,

Words command of you,

Turned the pages where they live,

Leafed and loved them too,

When joy they’ve given, I give back,

The least that I can do.

 

Kissed some pages, slept with them,

They’ve warmed me when I’m cold,

Comforted or made me cross,

Even made me bold,

Bent o’er backwards when they’ve asked,

Given birth when told,

Filled in blanks and filled the blank,

A love that can’t grow old.

 

Books I’ve fingered stand the test,

Some I must let go,

A library that needs thinned down,

Released to let them sow,

Off to others, bid adieu,

True loves I can’t let go,

Logophiles know what I mean,

Words desire it so.

Letter’d Lives

Though we don’t write the endings to our stories,

We’re bound to tell the passages between,

Letters written, words too oft confounding,

On life’s parchment, scripted scene by scene.

Underlying themes and sub-plots merging,

Combined, refined, relate the years we’ve seen,

Central characters all pulled together,

Writing book of life and where we’ve been.

Sometimes story plot becomes confusing,

Characters won’t say and do all that they mean,

Deletions happen often though they hurt you,

No one likes to lose the plan they’ve weaned.

Conflict often rises though unplanned for,

Resolutions too, when hope it seemed

Had fled the prose and left an empty page there,

Tale renews and onward goes as schemed.

Standing back and viewing sometimes helps here,

Perspective on a scale too rarely seen,

Judgements made, a brand new tack is taken,

Weaving all perceptions that we’ve gleaned.

No, we don’t write the endings to our stories

But try to polish them to worthy sheen,

Chapters running, coming all together,

Life lines written, speaking volumes in between.

 

Blueberry Day

Funny sort of day today,

children gone swimming,

working,

so quiet.

Filter’d light day today,

silent ticking,

deep breathing,

relaxing.

Sort of snooze day today,

kinda drowzy,

turn over,

indulge.

Caffeine waft day today,

sip slowly,

no pressure,

no hurry.

Snuggle up day today,

book reading,

delicious…

…with muffins,

blueberry fruit sort of day,

bonus

scribblings

and sigh.

Words of Another

I wonder, sometimes,

if the words of another

reveal me to me

better than mine,

If, in sharing

their thoughts on the page,

cosmic held hands

raise ridiculous to sublime.

It’s not that I think

that I cannot convey

most visions

that whirl in my mind

But I wonder

if inhaling

words from another,

some truths are easier to find.

Faith In One Feather

Once, feather requested

for token belief,

his faith so diminished by

Life’s common thief.

His symbol of grace,

renewed by the milk of

liquid enchantment, formed

creamy white silk,

wrapped now in thoughts

that all may be well,

imagined, held clearly till

cause-effect weaves its spell

of tropical bounty

toughened by strife,

sweetened by truth of

renewable life,

where possible visions

enact in the mind,

tacit compliance

till treasure he finds.

Books In My Mind

Old stories revisited and pictures viewed,

Words known from before, inhaled and imbued.

Classics to keep inside and forever,

Authors of wisdom and words that I treasure.

Turning the pages of yesterday’s books,

Remembering when I first had a look

At fantastical writing from many admired,

Enthralled by the images their stories inspired.

Then turning to new, where words are devotion

Embracing the talent of author’s emotions.

Wondering how they find what to say

In marvellous prose and poetic array.

Searching for new meanings inside the old,

In all of the stories I’ve ever been told,

In all of the writings I’ve ever read,

That now live inside me, exist in my head.

Profusion of persons making a trail

Imparting illusion I breathe and inhale.

Delightful depictions of destiny found

In reading and sorting these books all around

On library’s shelves where they live till I find

Rediscovered treasures I keep in my mind.