He collected dolls both black and white.

Twas his pain and his delight,

To hold them tight at night.

Few words where said,

As they lay upon his bed

With eyes cold and dead.

He touched their skin so real,

Though love they could not feel.

One doll his heart did steal,

But her passion was unreal.

His soul it turned to steel,

No longer could he feel.

Imagine writing a book only to have it safely stored unseen by anyone for up to 100 years.

This is the reality to which famous writers and poets are subjecting their work as part of The Future Library project. 

It all starts with a forest of 1,000 trees planted near Oslo, Norway, which we will be harvested in 100 years and used to print a unique anthology – for people yet to be born! The anthology will be from books, poems or texts submitted by one author per year (one piece of work only)  for the next 100 years and apart from its creator no other human being alive will have seen their work. 

The creator of this living conceptual artwork is Katie Paterson, a Glaswegian visual artist. Trust is central to this project: trust that there is a future; trust that there will be a future that cares about…

The Founder of Utilitarianism, Jeremy Bentham once said, ” All poetry is misrepresentation.”   Pretty utilitarian concept in my opinion! How many of us who are passionate about reading and writing think this could be true? That poetry is nothing but words dressed in their Sunday best. In an age where STEM subjects get the bulk of attention in academics, poetry might be considered by some as masquerades to hide the truth.  Scientists and Mathematicians might not be moved by rows of daffodils or the many ways to love or the rolling hills or plight of a black woman running from her white molesters or even factual details of wars. But whatever garb poetry wears, its body is made up of facts from daily lives.

So is poetry an impassioned truth or is poetry misrepresentation? It depends on who you ask this question. But according to Bentham a game…

BLOODLETTING
by
Eric Syrdal

Once again
She
summoned to this place
against her will
never shy from battle
never austere in the face
of consequence
ever rising up against
that which would seek
to pin a name tag on her
significance
yet again she finds
she is brought back
to answer for deeds of which
she is guiltless
the crime lies
in the drawing of steel
ambition to claim
far beyond what the universe
decides is available
pursuit of oneness of mind
control over her vital organs of reproduction
more so
to decide
reliant upon her own free will
to cover her curves
behind plates of iron
hard armor protects supple skin
from the caustic glare of
an angry and jealous world
or might she
remove her breastplate
and cast it to the earth
her vorpal blade
slicing effortlessly through
the hide straps that
cling it to her
the metal…