Your mind is the most precious thing you own. It defines your perspectives, guides your action and how comfortable you are inside your own head is probably the biggest factor in determining your contentment and happiness throughout your life.
That’s why, I think, historically, governments of every shade, creed and hue have tried to control it.
This poem was written in the run up to the 2015 election and, influenced by this, I wanted it to be like a manifesto. A declaration of our right to take our minds to whatever new worlds we wished.
It’s my mind
It’s my mind and I shall take it where I
Wish, there is no mental trip, no psychic
Dish you can deny me, I shall see and
Taste whatever I am inclined, I will
Not be defined by laws dredged from dusty
Old books, I choose to look at the darkness
And the light, to seek out those places where
There is no wrong or right but experience,
Hence I am nothing less than the cat
Who walks where he wills because…..It’s my mind
These are our minds, and our kind has never
Shied away from new places, so we’re used
To disapproving faces, little gnarled snarls
That say how can you live that way?
I’ve been like this since day one, a seeker
After my truth, none but my own path to walk,
And the talk of the small minded is like
The chatter of birds in my ears, their fears
Are not my fears, their jealousies do not
Hold my interest, so they choose not to
Test the boundaries of who they could be,
They don’t wish to see distant horizons,
New worlds and secret places, their faces
Will never be lit by the light from far
Off suns, these are the frightened ones, who will
Never spread their wings to fly and what does
Not try, never learns and what never learns
Is dead, why don’t they choose to live instead?
They will never sail upon the seas of
The unknown, be blown into uncharted
Waters, these are not the sons and daughters
Of tomorrow but yesterday’s sorrow
And iron law, so let’s speak of them no more
But instead of the trip to come, where will
We be when this day is done? What songs will
We hear that are as yet unsung, what joy
Will we share, what lovers will come? Dear friends,
Do not fear if, though you try, you have no
Clever words in reply, Nor is the answer
Mine to give, but instead, right here, it’s ours to live.