some people have a phobia,
of confined places,
but these people are forever in fear,
from being boxed in,
what is a box I say,
a cube that is empty inside,
boxes are everywhere,
no matter where we reside,
in a world of a billion minds,
we have so little realistic ideas,
that bloody box appears everywhere,
no matter where we are,
why can’t they design a sphere,
born, we come out of the womb,
and placed in a box-shaped cot,
in a hospital another empty cube,
one box on top of another,
and so our life starts like so many,
at being boxed in cots and beds,
shuffle on to a boxed type school,
the lucky ones to a boxed shaped university,
and then they are the boxes,
that are invisible but are there,
we are divided by music and football,
by colour, creed and type of hair,
different boxes hold different futures,
smaller boxes, fewer choices for the poor,
richer people travel in high-speed boxes,
why can’ the designers draw a sphere?
on motorways we move in steel boxes,
ploughing into each other all day,
we are boxed in to drive on ancient roads,
can’t we design a freer easier way?
will all the space and time around us,
we are boxed in with our choices,
an invisible line tells you not to wander,
over borders and into other countries,
while designers and scientists are clueless,
and are boxed in with their ideas,
let us look now to the heavens,
with millions of spheres or moons,
man-made objects are generally square,
nature makes things shapeless,
human nature insists on brick shaped,
when the other world is endless,
Egyptians had another line of thought,
they were famous for their pyramids,
so why can’t we break from the norm,
and stop boxing ourselves in,
the city skyscrapers are so 3D,
no style or daring artistic views,
everything is designed around something fundamental,
a lift , an engine or gravity,
but can someone just for once,
step out of the box we have always known,
make a house that defies gravity,
and a new type of lifestyle will be born.

© D.Hobson April 2014