We're sharing a series of short poems written by bioniciconic founder John. Not known as poet, he was inspired by his travel companion Sara, herself an avid writer on their recent trip to Copenhagen.
Before you read the poems, John explains his thinking about his writing, "I've always been passionate about our visual world and I sense that I view and capture far too many images on a daily basis. So there I was sat on a street corner in Copenhagen enjoying a wonderful coffee, and I started to think about where I was, what I was seeing and how I was feeling. At that point I was compelled to take out my notebook and start writing. That's how I started writing my Copenhagen Story."
"I don't for one second pretend to be an expert poet! But I've enjoyed writing them and I hope you enjoy reading them."
Once you've read the poems feel free to add your comments.
In the shade, a blue sky day. Going nowhere, being somewhere. Time still, people move. The looking lookers looked back at, on a Copenhagen street corner.
Under Grey Sky
Under grey sky, spirits high. New sights await, no room for fate. The day planned, the experience unknown. Guided by phone - you're never alone. Time to be brave, abandon the plan. Take a wrong turn, see what you learn, under a grey sky.
Slice of Life
Build a world for man or machine. Live for the dream beyond the reality. The choices you make empower their plan. Now its time to take your slice of a predetermined life.
Bathroom. Tap flow, face washed. Kitchen. Coffee flow, mind awake. Street. Walk flow, body moving. Destination. Sights flow, into memories. Brain, Thoughts flow, questions asked. Cafe. Conversations flow, time passes. Cyclists. Wheels flow, going somewhere. River. Always flow, destination known. Sleep. Dreams flow, destination unknown.
Out of time
No more time to look and see. No more time to be set free. No more time to be carefree. No more time to drift away. No more time to delay return. Now more time to reflect and smile.
No Longer There
Back here, not there. There was where there wasn't a care. There were dreams took hold of life beautiful and bold. Here is where routine fades dreams. Yet passion persists, too strong to resist. The Valhalla of there embedded in heart, set to infect here with the sprit of there.
If you want to share or reproduce any of the poems please just ask - we'd be happy to say yes.