What does a number do?
You’re invited—plus one
—that’s everyone!
The infinite conundrum.
Written for Poets and Storytellers United #243
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
What does a number do?
Our Hidden Power
Blessed Are The Stupid – 6th September 2026
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
Bog Standard – 5th September 2026
All the lines here have been taken from An Existential Guide to: Making Friends (with some minor editing). Shared with dVerse: descort
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Focus On What Is Yours Alone
Don’t turn optimism into false hope
The future is not yet yours
There are better ways to cope
Focus on what you have in your stores
Cosmic Betrayals – 4th September 2026
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
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
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
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
It’s A Good Life If You Don’t Weaken – 31st August 2026
I polish ghosts into a golden age,
the past appears the way I need.
Where I reside is carved on the page,
walls erected outline my screed.
So many names dissolve into the dust,
a lifetime’s work reduced to yellowed ink.
One path is quietly being discussed,
another burns alone beneath the drink.
Stitched a self from fragments within,
a life becomes the story that remains.
Bus rides through the snow become a hymn,
breathing softly in the smallest pains.
Is artistic dedication noble
or just self-imposed isolation?
The mystery is solved inside the story,
but the mystery itself is an illusion.
I’m not sure what prompted it but the title of Seth’s comic, It’s A Good Life If You Don’t Weaken, has been in my mind recently. Not having read it yet, I investigated the story and themes and came up with this write. Intrigued, I’ve also pushed this book higher up my to-be-read pile, which changes often.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Consider Your Feelings Too
It’s easy to take offence at another’s wrong
Yet you have similar failings too
Forget your anger and what compels them
For what else could they do?
Dumb Luck – 30th August 2026
What a fabulous contradiction I was
At times, disbelieving in wonder and awe
At others, feeling so far down because
I had no idea what I was living for
Gloomy skies could comfort or divide
Why did the good times fade away?
Without understanding what I was inside
Unable to avoid being a perfect cliche
So long ago, I can look back and laugh
Dumb luck has brought me to today
Even when I wasn’t on the right path
I stopped myself from being led astray
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
When You Feel Lazy
What’s fuelling your reluctance?
Spite? Fatigue? Or something more crazy?
Sometimes, we gotta do what’s gotta be done
Even when you’re feeling lazy
Enriching – 29th August 2026
The answers were scattered across the floor
like Scrabble letters, making perfectly formed words;
just waiting to be found by the keen observer.
All it took was for a good look around;
without that, they were just plastic spikes
waiting for stupid feet to learn truths through pain.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
1994ever 