The Amateur – 10th September 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 2 Comments

In a perpetual state of curiosity,
I am the lover—the amator,
consumed by the pursuit,
never arriving as the station’s master.

Reshaped by the objects of affection—
endlessly revealing itself
with fresh eyes.

To be possessed by a god.

I am the midwife of ideas,
so come sit with me
and be courted every day.

Shared with dVerse: Poetics Tuesday – teachers

Information from DeepSeek that helped form this poem:
1. Amateur: From the Latin amator (lover). Originally, an amateur wasn’t a beginner; it was someone who did something for the love of it, rather than for mastery. A teacher who is still learning while teaching is an amateur in the truest sense, driven by a love of the subject and of the students.
2. A master has already arrived at their destination; they know the material, they deliver it, they clock out.
3.  In Roman love poetry, the amator is constantly changed, humbled, and reshaped by the object of their affection. The subject endlessly reveals itself, and the student’s fresh eyes make the teacher see the subject anew.
4. Enthusiasm comes from the Greek enthousiasmos, which means”to be possessed by a god”.
5. ‘I am the midwife of ideas’ is from Socrates.

Xenolith – 9th September 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 18 Comments

Welcoming a stranger as a guest
We integrated at once, impressed
These fragments of a lucky break
The genesis of a world we’ll make

Pigs’ hearts will keep us beating
Fear will not have us retreating
We are the locked doors
inside the house.

Written for dVerse Quadrille #255 – xenolith
1. The prefix xeno- comes from the ancient Greek word xénos (ξένος), which simply meant “stranger,” “foreigner,” or “guest.”
2. The xenolith integrates when impressed into the larger rock.
3. The xenolith, as a fragment and lucky break, is just the randomness of nature. ‘Fragments of a Lucky Break’ is also the title of an album by Trumans Water.
4. Xeno-genesis: The process of an organism producing offspring that are completely different from itself. A nod to the dinosaurs and oil.
5. Xeno-transplantation: The transplantation of living cells, tissues, or organs from one species to another.
6. Xeno-phobia.
7 & 8: The xenolith is locked inside the rock. The “stranger” we fear most is the one we hide from within ourselves.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Nothing To Fear But Fear Itself

Living in fear is not living
Mistakes are made for forgiving
To convert retreat into advance
Fear must not be given a chance

Blessed Are The Stupid – 6th September 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment 
From scratching a living, 
    mighty civilisations rose.
The first idiot 
    to get on the back of a horse knows
more than all 
    the philosophers pontificating.

The stupid step forward 
    while everyone else is waiting.
Thankfully, 
    the smartest could never persuade
the foolish from all 
    the bad decisions they made.

Inspired by Existential Comics #634

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

They Can Throw You In Chains But…

Freedom is misunderstood
Its power is in your mind
The chains may not feel good
But freedom is there to find

Cosmic Betrayals – 4th September 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

My faith tells me I will see you again
Though every step forward leaves you behind
You are finally free of heartbreak and pain
But I measure mine in everything I find

I must abandon you, to keep the comfort of my grief
On the road ahead, I will greet my ghosts
Keep watching over me, such is our belief
Although you are far away, please keep me close

Inspired, again, by the Red Hand Files #354, where Nick Cave responds to someone who lost their wife to cancer, aged 30.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

How Can You Know Whether You’ve Never Been Tested?

A life that never met misfortune
One that has never been put to the test
How can one judge their real value
Having never struggled to do their best?

A Pile Of Tuesdays – 3rd September 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 19 Comments 
This stone is a memory
    and memories are not truth.
I carry these stones in a box,
    dripping nostalgia all over my shoes.*

The box fills faster than I can make room,
    old rocks settle down below.
Some get stuck between my toes,
    as I limp toward another show.

It's already Tuesday again.
    I've got a pile of Tuesdays stashed away,
wearing themselves down to sand,
    rattling the box with every shake.

Running my finger along the edges
    for the last time—I'll know,
I'll divine them across the floor
    and see what remains.

Written for dVerse Poetics – stone
* – appropriated from Makenna Karas

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

First, A Hard Winter Training

Downtime is for preparation
Life is not made for part-timers
Half hearted makes a soft foundation
Easily destroyed by bad designers

After Sex – 2nd September 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment 

surrounded by space
 
       in a soundtrackless cinéma vérité;

long stares out of the window,

             cigarettes after sex;


       finally, she whispers, 'do you love only me?'


             the question remains unanswered

                     while seasons fade.




the walls start closing in,

       echoing the decade of quietude;

the busy streets outside remain,

              stiff gins after sex;


       finally, she sighs, 'do you still love me?'

 
               and while seasons fade,

                      the question remains.

I haven’t watched many movies for a long time, let alone something quiet and contemplative. Even I have succumbed to short attention span syndrome, though I still manage to sit through a three-hour game of football. I have a million movies on hand; I should watch more.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

The Philosopher’s School Is A Hospital

Applied pressure exerts
Therapy from experts
Our healing hurts
Our stresses reversed

Just Opinion – 1st September 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment 
The price is the price.
Anything in addition
     is just opinion.

Why does the dog look
at me with suspicion today
as I grab the leash?

The tunnel got darker
the further suffered;
     it's just opinion.

Deep inside the warmth
of the surrounding earth,
death is a price too high to pay.

When the suffering ends,
when the light welcomes,
     is just opinion.

Somewhat a response to this poem ‘Suicide Note 1’ at Distant Dreams Poetry

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

A Strong Soul Is Better Than Good Luck

There goes the rich man in rags
Eating only the most simple fare
Carries a home in plastic bags
A strong soul can live anywhere