Under The Cover – 5th April 2026

Beyond the paragraphs and stanzas
Where stories start being told
Round campfires, on verandahs
Ideas – like origami – unfold

Within each sentence, there emerges
Lines flowing skywards from the soul
Where sunshine and saccharine diverges
To tally what the parts withhold

Under the phrase, where the weight lightens
Adjectives get detached from their nouns
Order is loosened; or disorder tightens
Dissected from their objects’ surrounds

Inside each word that’s to be announced
Where every breath becomes considered
Accents distort how it’s all pronounced
Not always intended as delivered

Beneath every syllable assessed
Meaning flickers in recognition
Beyond one thing that’s being expressed
The mastery of imprecision

Below the phoneme, perhaps that’s where to start
Where the true heart of the story lies
Put back together after being pulled apart
Ambivalence is where the author dies

Shared with W3 #205 – Beneath The Surface

On Patrol – 4th April 2026

Shared with GloPoWriMo Day 3:
write a poem in which a profession or vocation is described differently than it typically is considered to be.

My poem is my experience of being an administrator of a system that rarely needed any intervention on my behalf, allowing me to do whatever what I wanted during company time, utilising their fast internet access to persue my own hobbies.

Administrator!
I am the ghostly guardian,
the sentinel of processes,
  weaving the idle threads of will.

Interface!
A handshake with new friends
during office hours.
On the clock is off the hook.
  Sick! Sick! Sick!

User!
Addicted to a system
where hours pass into nothingness.
I’m on company time,
  playing pranks behind closed doors.

Firewall!
Access granted
to the garden of shadows,
sketching sunsets on the clock.
  Tick! Tick! Tick!

Escalation!
“Action required”,
yet a mere phantom in the labyrinth.
Gotta justify that position,
  crafting tales while duties lie.

Desk jockey!
With high-speed internet access.
Click! Click! Click!
Paid twice.  Once with money,
  another with time.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Don’t Let This Go To Your Head

Avoid the imperial stain!
Keep yourself simple and sure
Revere the gods and remain
Gracious, affectionate and pure

The Denouement – 3rd April 2026

From the bed,
all that’s seen is the grey spray of concrete wall
of next door
and a brief triangle of stars
in an oversaturated night sky.

Outside,
just below the bedroom window,
the plastic corrugated roof, rain-worn and sun-beaten,
rolls drips of night condensation
down into the yard.

On the bed,
a whimpering four-year-old shakes
with the news that we are all going to die.
Why you have no father;
why, one day, you too, will cease.

Along the alley,
beyond the open gate,
soldiers run in camouflage
through the garden and onwards.
A mystery that remains
over fifty years later.

On the bed again,
knowing the denouement is still making its way,
the world could still be grey.
Yet somehow, light shines from the horizon,
stitching gold into the four-year-old’s open hand.

A true story, my history, written for GloPoWriMo 2026 Day 2:
write your own poem in which you recount a childhood memory. Try to incorporate a sense of how that experience indicated to you, even then, something about the person you’d grow up to be.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Deceived And Divided

We’re far too easily deceived
When our attention and time are divided
We do the straddle and never succeed
At either of the options provided

We Wanted It All – 1st April 2026

We sit in shelters with our eyes averted,
searching for faces among those who remain.
The Occupied Zone, completely deserted
of something that may adequately explain.

We wanted it all and found that we were lost;
we lost it all and wanted that even more.
The missiles with eyes always carry a cost.
…we make our choices when we open the door.

The brothers Rat hold knives to each other’s backs
while talking about life, about what is right.
The brothers Wright sit merrily taking cracks
knocking back a few ’til the end of the night.

Shared for the GloPoWriMo early bird prompt:

write your own poem in which you refer to a specific writer or artist (or work of literature/art) and make a declarative statement about want or desire. Set the poem in a particular, people-filled place, like a restaurant, bus station, museum, school, etc.

The references here will be obscure for most people. The brothers Wright, in this case, are artists Rob and John, of the Canadian Hall of Famers, Nomeansno and the brothers Rat, being their alter-egos in the song Brother Rat. All this is tied together with lyrics mangled from Brother Rat and another of their songs, Lost, words of which discuss shelters and the occupied zone, referencing particular current news events.

This poem is purposefully dystopian, dark and ironic about how people respond to loss and occupation.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

The Colour Of Your Thoughts

What is the feedback on your internal reports?
Do you put yourself fairly in the frame?
Colour your mind with the wrong thoughts
And your life will be dyed the same.

Laugh A Little – 31st March 2026

Fighting your nature,
playfulness is crushed.
No longer laughing,
it’s all serious.

Always in control,
the child becomes dead.
Manipulated
and easily led.

Let the children sing.
Let them jump about.
Let them dance around.
Let them scream and shout.

The inner child has
no need to explain.
Let yourself become
a child once again.

Inspired by some Osho.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

You’re A Product Of Your Training

A mind that isn’t in control
Gets jerked around by impulse
To determine how tomorrow will go
What you practice is what results

All Is Not Lost – 30th March 2026

“Freedom
is autonomy!”
“Better to reign in Hell than serve
in Heaven!”
Bound by pride, envy and despair
benefits the greater good.
So serve.

My first attempt at a Cameo poem, written for W3 #204 and inspired after reading Lesley Scoble’s information on the creator of the Cameo form, Alice Spokes, here. Within that article, it is hinted that Spokes re-imagined the whole of Milton’s Paradise Lost using this form, which in turn led me to look more into the meaning behind Milton’s work, not having read it yet. I’m certainly interested to read it now.

I don’t think I’ve nailed the form with this poem, or even if it says anything meaningful.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Reason In All Things

Ruled by impulse, habit or whim
Reason soon gets sidelined
Forces often drag you along with them
Your own intellect undermined

Newly Shaped – 29th March 2026

You made it to the summit to see
the path taken was no mystery;
Wearing the journey, along you came,
the lesson’s now written in your name.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Why Do You Need To Impress Those People Again?

The people whose opinion we covet
Are, themselves, not all that great
Serenity is far away from the puppet
Who doesn’t enjoy what they create

The Moving Song – 28th March 2026

(body)

There’s a bomb in the carriage,
oblivious to all one’s cares.
Emptying out all the thunder,
with its white and waxy affairs.

(mind)

In the shadow of this fact
one’s thoughts must be defused;
Those tiny beams of light
search for something to be used.

(spirit)

By singing from the heart
all doubt will disappear.
Moving muscles to the beat
is sure to bring good cheer.

Inspired by a combination of this Substack post ‘Body Mind Spirit’ by Deidre Lewis and the Red Hand Files #344


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Cowardice As A Design Problem

Life without design is erratic
Chaos ensues without a plan
A cowardly retreat is automatic
If you’ve not readied all you can

Out The Yin Yang – 27th March 2026

When every day
makes you unhappy,
why ask
yourself
for a solution
to get better?

When every day
makes you feel so good,
ask why
it’s so
and keep doing that –
things will get worse.

Shared with Tanka Tuesday #57
About the title: I’m not sure if it is an Australian colloquialism or not, but a common phrase for an abundance of something was ‘having so much it’s coming out the wazoo’ and seemed to morph towards ‘coming out of the yin yang’ or any other variety of experimental and playful terms.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Pay What Things Are Worth

Do diamonds affect your decisions?
How do you value what you have got?
The market might be rational
But the people comprise it are not