Up, hear the odd calls It may be a burble, or the scatter of animal chatter Press your fingers into tools or bricks forming words While grey, then black, then still skies spool ahead.   By J.W.H. Hobbs.

I found this week how interesting it was seeing another person’s approach to an academic paper. There’s guideline suggestions, a CASP paper at the ready, and the normal read is surveying the terrain. Reconnaissance.   Personally, I return to books to re-adsorb, especially in the case of a history book with many realities to teach, or a philosophy book with its own applicable lines of thought, or suggestions on approaching the experience of life. And of course, I’ve seen many

Mucal membranes block the throat We lose our air and start to choke With regularity, in dark times Full function is hard to find   It will pass, or it will not Each wound, bound and unsleeved thought Runs its course where it will It all has merit, until you lie cold and still.   By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Oh I’ve seen the papers, made by hands Of the typists dawdling idly And the words and whims of many mouths Who wait to miss life’s timing.   Yet there’s nought a bird to miss their mate No fish begrudge their swimming   I could join the crowd and miss my fate And hunch my spine to bending.   But better off to see new lands again With the girl who walks beside me.   By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Vader sighed. He would have to try harder. He could not afford any weaknesses, given his enemies – and more especially, given his friends.   It’s just a lot of fun reading this book. Fun I think is something with a lot of appeal, that you can see but struggle to identify the elements of. I know it’s present in gaming, less and less in every medium over the past few years, like comedy, fun is something that’s enjoyable but part of an instinctive or innate talent.   For a few d

There is nothing as inviting Daunting, perhaps exciting Refreshing or depressing Than a clean page.   Affected by the light The mood, though Thoughts and any kind of Feeling wraps and still With a will or right Beside in every time the urge to Write   But today Within a planner page A market stage, or higher aims Yes, this is what I And so many more right now In times gone by until end of time   Will think at just a dab of nothing Written in the gap between filled and the lig

What is creating something?   I’ve asked that to myself, struggling to finish reading a book on the day I set, while someone beside me quite languidly carried on pencil sketching as the sun went down. I’ve heard accounts of the pain of childbirth, decades it took someone to make a business that stood on its own. I’m a little disappointed that many projects in my life are not the solid blocks of material matter they ought to be.   To make something is to see it concluded. See

No one can ever truly mar Beautiful things Place words and Attempt peer pressures They can go out of style Be judged out of their merit Kept enclosed or In dark days fade from mind But like sands and stones Massaged by persistent waters It is a Form, a Truth, a statement That there is beauty And what is a marvel can endure. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

For all the work I’ve done, sometimes you have to come back immediately. It could be an email, or something annoying me in bed before sleep. I’ve needed to make necessary edits to letters, my website, perhaps I missed adding in music and could have touched up the image quality.   Every single time there’s a little groan deep inside. Every single time it was necessary, whether I appreciated that at the time or not. When I finished my first self-published work, it was a case of

All about the rains Raw slate of a cloudless sky Alike have the rawness of nature Motion beyond motions So large a scape Detailed and fast Beyond counting, or true comprehension Is the body striving to be aware of itself   The gestalt of memory Of true lives buried and writhing beneath The true action Thumos seated within a man Or the anima of a muse’s radiance   To be radiance One within an ununderstood design Retreat into the waves Lower the vibration of sound Sometimes we

When it comes to the richness of the gaming experience, the interface, character and pace will all be highly valued; but the first element often advertised, and the initial hook is the surroundings.   Atmosphere is a large word pivotal to the experience; but honestly in games and film the heart of this is the visual space. A virtual space, literally when we consider both mediums. You are perceiving an elegant projection from a device   From the Halo  so definitive it’s the ti

No matter The long Long Arduousness And futility To think To name To say No Is To Live And how entropy Apathy, and evil despise that.   To live is to plant time’s flowers.   By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Now, in many ways this array of legendary warriors devoted to guarding a king is the exception that proves the rule. It makes a very fine point about knights in shining armour, that for all the finery some of these men can stand by and tell their younger brother to keep quiet while the queen screams:   “That was the White Bull, loyal to the end and a better man than me, all agree.”   It speaks to the truth of Arthurian legend, where in truth sexual abuse, the drugging and ass

Just so How the polite edge Of conversation peeks Amusement, besides a smile Comes common as coins nowadays   But can we shake our interests? In meeting a new topic Share air with a new friend Perhaps one in one hundred conversations Titillate with speech having paired partners.   By J.W.H. Hobbs.

In every laboured breath And deed planned for no tomorrow In the cold of lightless suns With no promise of our laboured love   The cold and abandoned heart Beats its resolve And warms outer grass Bending with future breath   No warrior, pilgrim of knight Thinks of has the belief In the mortal world that virtue sleeps   It springs at the last With the promise of perhaps When you give that bought pain Perhaps take last laboured breath   By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Strike one matchstick, and you may fail.   Try to uplift yourself in the pouring rain, and a sense of absurd humiliation may weigh you down.   That does not make it do forever.   I see people each day speak adamantly of having no hope, and I hear in my work people who feel they have no choice, no recourse. My calling is to lift whatever little drive I can. Because we are all struggling. We are all threatened by a black sky promising no hope, no shelter in this life. But a few

You do not find it by being nice Certainly not in what people say When buying, working, selling Or in bite down chunks of corporate expression   In the cold night air Or the sweat filled sun When they might run you down Might share a word Strangers you never see again Lovers, breaking that ice with saltwater conversation In the pages of wise men and women Who know what you felt And the suggestions of those looking up and not down to the ground Maybe once in a very long while

A smart woman told me once that: “You don’t plough fields with diamonds”.   I thought of it visually as diamonds in the dusty field, like the ones I walked through as I looked for work. I learned later, in the process of selling jewellery and items for engaged couples and married people that there were carbonised artefacts in diamond rings.   “Nature’s birthmarks”, the soft corporate voice of one distasteful person I worked with told me, encouraging how I was to sell it.   I