on the source and nature of ideas
ideas come big and small
and throughout and wholly withal
some larger than one person can comfortably carry
others slipped in between the pages of slim volumes
to be discovered by the next reader
some are more awkward than heavy,
requiring greater attention to balance
or perhaps a better angle to manoeuvre
through a narrow doorway
some fall with the rain
chasing drops
escaping clouds
dissolving in puddles
yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of earth
I know the trilobites and sabre-toothed deer have trodden the path before
and also that the lillies of the field are still with us
they do not grieve over the passage of time
mind you they don’t sweat or fart
or take a calming glass on a Thursday afternoon either
there are ideas swift and apt
and ponderous and late
ideas that come embarrassingly early
before the party hosts are appropriately prepared
and so suffer the dull thunder of conversations
forced rather than flowing
there are ideas flat and ideas swollen
sometimes they require careful unfolding
and there are ideas that turn out
not to be ideas at all
or flashes of insight that
somebody sparked already
elsewhere, elsetime
yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of birth
awaiting the drop of the next boot
along the path of the inevitable
I do not hang my head but rather risk being run down
looking above me at greenleaf skies and frozen music arches
and the laughter in passing faces
surely there is more danger in ignoring such
flourishes of delight
ideas come black white and brindle
multicoloured and grey
psychedelic and muted
tumbling through windows like distracted clowns
through doors like disoriented birds
through villages like skateboarders looking for their tribe
and some just lie around waiting to be found or overlooked
forgotten or recalled
taking it easy, man,
taking it easy
I’ll be ready when they call
thesilverpepperofthestars 