Morning Read
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There is no truth in words.

True communication is ancient.
Movement, tone of voice, intonation.
Words can be easily manipulated,
misinterpreted, unappreciated.

Through words we are trapped
in a world of self recognition.
In our own realities,
segregated, isolated, separated.

Over time we find ourselves
entwined with words inflicted
and hide behind the lies we live with,
designed, confined; mankind restricted.

I want to seek the universal truth
without explaining it, describing it,
containing it, defining it.

I mistrust, I rebuke, I deny, I respect,
I regret, I neglect, I apply,
I accept… words.

Words are the scourge of the earth.


Photograph by Thong Vo

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Lucas Howard

When I was seven I started copying poems out of a book and telling people they were mine. When I ran out of good ones to copy, I had to start writing my own. I have been performing and organising nights on the UK spoken word scene now for over seven years and am most of the way through writing the first draft of my first novel 'Zedlist', which is serialised on here. As the story is in fetal form, any critiques or suggestions are most welcome.

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