Pity the newsprint, the end (once more) nigh, who gets each morning to mourn and to cry. Read in each cafe, on every street, its anguish becomes the commoner’s greet. Pity the newsprint, who does not feel time pulling on its tongue to silence its rhyme. Indulging pleasure in its daily wail, instead of their grief, men talk of the mail. Oh what I could do with but half a page to spill those sorrows that pool as I age! Oh how it would be, if my heart let go! Not just a murmur but sobbing its woe! I do not recall when I last did weep. Pity this half-wit who only talks cheap.
Pity The Newsprint ~ A Poem by Tom Shaw
Occasionally, I like to enter poetry competitions as a way of spurring me to play with a theme or an idea that I might not have done otherwise. That was the case with this piece, which was prompted by The Telegraph’s poetry competition on the theme of “Time”. As I’ve often found to be the case when I enter competitions, my entry did not win, nor even receive a mention for being highly commended. While I certainly would have been very humbled to have won, I’m absolutely not bothered by the fact that I didn’t. I took on the writing competition as an exercise for myself and to hone some of my own thoughts using a theme I wouldn’t have gravitated to otherwise, which I definitely succeeded in doing.
Although it is the slightly meta take on how we have let the news of the world become our own news - given I submitted this to a newspaper - it absolutely is an issue worth talking about, and something I have been reminded of as I make my way to Anarchapulco to talk about Over To The Youth.
On the first flight of my journey, I was sat next to an incredibly friendly and chatty Brit named Chris. I love listening to people’s stories, and Chris had a myriad of stories to tell of the various things he had been involved with in his life, ranging all the way from working in childcare to driving buses and travelling the world. So many of Chris’ stories, particularly on those about working with young people, were really inspiring to me, and we shared a lot of the same ideas on what it means to meet youth in a heart-centred place and show genuine curiosity into their world, without passing their ideas off or projecting a particular idea on how something “has” to be done, or else. He told me about all the times he metaphorically “threw out the guidebook” and do something unconventional because he had that ability to be in the moment and see the best way to work with young people, from narrating dramatic stories in wild fashion about the topics they were covering in order to engage youth, or cracking jokes or responding to troubled youngsters in a way that allowed them to trust him.
These are the kinds of stories we don’t ever get to hear through the news, yet they’re the ones that I find far more inspiring and insightful than the dry knowledge on current affairs, science or history can ever do - even though those things have value. And, by definition, these stories are “narratives” - and ones that can be even more powerful as the narratives pushed on a societal level in my opinion, solely because it comes directly from a real human being.
After that flight, I am certainly called to be more like Chris - to tell those stories from my own experience which speak to a truth about the world we live in and how to navigate it. Moreover, what if we all were more like Chris? What if, instead of learning of the world through the words and agendas of others, we learn by reading what’s happening in our minds and hearts instead? What if we become the source of our own understanding of the world, taking responsibility for our reality and using that as a starting point when connecting with others?
Last year, I had the pleasure of experiencing the Bournemouth Writing Festival as an attendee, which I wrote about at the time for my paid subscribers. All the while, I was conscious of the potential for great magic to arise by being physically present with other writers with powerful stories of their own. I knew I wanted to provide something at the event to allow those stories to shine, facilitating the strengthening of our spirits and resolves as human beings as a result.
To this effect, I’m honoured to be bringing my online group poetry workshop, “Basecamp”, to an in-person format for this year’s Bournemouth Writing Festival in the UK. I expect this to be the last outing of “Basecamp” in its current format before I use it to build out a bigger series of creative writing practises on this theme that act as a vehicle for inner transformation.
If this sounds like something you’d be interested in, you can find all the details to book on by clicking the button below:
I’m looking forward to connecting in-person with those scaling the heights to actualise the most authentic version of themselves. If you can’t be there in-person, I plan to offer other free online workshops soon, so watch this space.
Thank you for taking the time to read this piece. Leave a comment if it sparked something within you.
With gratitude,
Tom
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Intention?
What's that?
Example:
https://youtu.be/imo-Pw3ypcs?si=BIePaJzr5wfkM7wp
Or ideas of resonance via
Nassim Haramein
6 min in...
https://youtu.be/voTTLFpGnlk?si=ePl4lLeww5sosH5W
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"Show genuine curiosity," yes.
aka "CARE."
Infinite branches of compassion, thriving-budding-sprouting, from root hairs of CARE, nurtured by intentional awareness, imaginal loving awareness, flourish as healing spells broadcast into and from the supranatural.
Me?
I am only an egg.
Look past my crazy limited language and remember the timeless beauty, goodness, and truth that your heart knows.
mark spark
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