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Being Human…

August 4, 2013

Hi Folks,

Here are three of my pieces posted on Linkedin in the last week or so.  Perhaps they touch on different aspects of being human…

Have a joyous Sunday.



First, a double-haiku, for lovers…




The sound of the rain

drumming in the perfumed night,

spilling naked ease.


The sound of the rain

slack now in the morning light,

dreaming gentle seas…



Next, a triolet that came to me after posting a letter the other day.  The village war memorial, opposite the Post Office, was my inspiration.  I honour all our brave lads who didn’t make it home.




Rain fresh leafy is the old village street;

bone white cold on a sandstone plinth, he stands.

Rum lad Jack, at Ypres his Lord did meet.


Rain fresh leafy is the old village street;

faintly still the wailing shells burst in heat;

good mates gone, fighting for those ravaged lands.


Rain fresh leafy is the old village street;

Bone white cold on a sandstone plinth, he stands…



The following is from a piece I wrote in response to a poem posted recently, in which the great mysteries are presented in human terms.  I was glad of the opportunity to put my position…



Being human, asking questions is what we do.  Having intellect, we’re naturally curious.  We want to know about everything in life and in the universe.

We fear the unknown.  We seek to rationalise and explain, to discover and define.  We need the reassurance of a neat solution, as in a detective novel.  Need our pearls of wisdom encapsulated in neat forms of words, our mathematics and science pinned down in formulae.

We know about evolution, DNA and the Higgs Boson particle.  But who can pronounce definitively on whether our lives are written in the stars, i.e. preordained, or purely down to chance?  It’s so easy to mistake metaphor for literal, subjectivity for objectivity.  So easy to see patterns in the purely random or miss patterns involving seemingly disparate elements.  So easy to make false connections or miss genuine ones.

There are those who’ll shrug and say, “That’s the way the cookie crumbles.”  But surely that’s a cop-out, as lazy as, at the other end of the spectrum, swallowing whole some old, hand-me-down belief system?

We must each form our own view, and poetry is one way of laying down markers as we push on towards the light.



Copyright © Paul Beech 2013

From → Poetry

  1. Vibha Rana permalink


    The drummer and war memorial are beautiful and visual haiku poems. I am enjoying reading your blog.


    • Hi Vibha,

      I’m so pleased you’ve found me here and like my blog. I love your triple-haiku ‘Life is too short’ on Linkedin.

      Unfortunately, since yesterday (Saturday 7th September), I’ve been unable to access my emails or Linkedin. Maddening, isn’t it, when our IT goes wrong! Still, I’ll hopefully have it sorted soon.

      Very best wishes from across ‘The Big Pond’ – and please visit again!


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