I knew this guy he would talk and talk and talk…
A sure sign he was not a man of simple wisdom…
Wisdom is always composed and slow…
It never hurries to make itself known…
Wisdom is a steady plough…
Wisdom is that which is easily overlooked in haste…
This guy would talk and talk and talk.
He spoke with motorway speeds.
Zooming from idea to idea…
A splay of wired conversation.
‘Did you know that internal explosives where inside the World Trade Centre…and secret CIA Prisons…and Global Banking with all its fingers in every pie…and cocaine is cut with herion…and four pounds and thirty pence for a lukewarm banana honey smoothie and a roll with two prok susuages, do they think we are made of money…and look at the icecaps melting: photos from 5years ago to the present day: it cannot be denied: ice melts…and and and and…’
Ah! Silence: this guy made silence all the more precious.
Sitting still with everywhere around a kind of siantly reverance
for the sound of the wind the rush of leaves and the song of
little birds!
Noise is the enemy of silence…
And words are the enemy of a steady wisdom…
You can learn more washing dishes
than you can at university…edurance…muscle…
Being altogether more controlled in your approach to life.
A sure hand over the life thing. A sure steady workable way.
Cut the tongue out. Shoot the messenger.
Staple the books shut. Black out the signs.
Sit down. Catch a fly. Open up your hand a leaf
and let the fly go. let it go let it go…
Wisdom is a steady plough…
Haste the devil busying with Progress