The relentless honesty of



“In its ever-extending observance of the idea that knowledge, not wisdom, is our goal, that what matters is information rather than insight, and that we best address the problems that beset us, not with changes in our heart and spirit but with more data and better theories, our culture is pretty much exactly as Wittgenstein feared it would become. He sought to uncover the deep undercurrents of thought that had produced this attitude. He feared it would lead not to a better world but the demise of our civilization. That perhaps explains his deep unpopularity today. It is for the same reason that Ludwig Wittgenstein is the most important philosopher of modern times.”

From The relentless honesty of Ludwig Wittgenstein by Ian Ground



Magic Circle of Infinity

Yesterday evening by total chance Bobby Mitchell and I, each of us in different countries, were at the same time working on the New European Ensemble program for Dust Blown Side of the Journey.  The planned Den Haag and Amsterdam evenings will include the  “Magic Circle of Infinity” by George Crumb and the poem When the crumbs fall (among others).


Apple Tree

Schonmaier apple tree.jpgEarlier this week I was sitting in the apple tree memorising poems. Years ago after a hurricane this tree was horizontal on the ground with roots still attached.  With the help of a neighbour we used a winch and stood the tree upright and it continued its healthy growth. Birds and squirrels love the tree branch highways.

Atlantic Coast

Schonmaier Atlantic Coast.jpg

While hiking along Atlantic coastal trails, I’m memorising poems which I’ll recite at the launches for Dust Blown Side of the Journey this week.  Also on these walks images for new poems enter my mind.  I usually write poems in my head before they find their way to page or screen.

When the crumbs fall

Schonmaier Nova Scotia lake.jpg

into my cage, I taste

Lorca on my lips.  why

had I forgotten


the stars? during

all those summers

the water stroked


my skin as I swam

in the night’s mirror

note after note


the stars inked

on the score

sheets of the sky


and when I play

their songs



call me from

the dark opposite



From Dust Blown Side of the Journey (McGill-Queen’s University Press)