The Vulnerable Poet

22,956 days ago at the time of writing this epic piece of literary nonsense, it was January and a new life was born in Stoke on Trent. The parents of said new life were ecstatic – oh how misguided that emotion was!

Anyway life and time marches on and we jump forward through all sorts of situations, emothingies, births, marriages and departures and we end up at today. The new life is somewhat older now and some might say “more experienced” although it begs to differ.

That brings me to another point – since time is a man made concerpt and the Quantum Physicists would have us belief that all experiences and such things are all taking place at the same moment then it would follow that one could return to that new life state and be as a child.

So if we extrapo*+&d£, extermion @@@ oh bugger, stretched this thinking out, then that could explain why I have often been described as a child…………..

I therefore lay before you, in the shape of curly bits of black, straight lines and dots, this collection of ramblings, thoughts and sometimes hopefully, touching pieces of writing in the hope and belief that at some point you will relate to one of the pieces and think to yourself – “hmmm that was an enjoyable read, maybe I will read some more of this person’s work”.