Skittering – 10th April 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 1 Comment

I am the king!
I’m a veteran!
For 400 million years
In the order of Blattodea.

Shedding nymph skins
Over a year of omnivorous nights.
Breaking down your decay
Into nutrients for our homes.

When you are ash and memory,
Footnotes in the soil,
I’ll still be here, one antenna raised,
Skittering from the sun.

Written for GloPoWriMo 2026 – Day 9:
try writing your own poem in the voice of an animal
“I am the king” is borrowed from The Birthday Party’s ‘Junk Yard’
‘I’m a veteran’ paraphrased from the Volcano Suns ‘Veteran’

Interpolation – 9th April 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 19 Comments

The word cracks once,
 “Ceasefire!”
A fish bone lodges in a gasping throat
 but below, the fuses sputter: more wire, more fire,
 the relentless drums of war’s dark choir.

“Ceasefire!”
 – a child’s chalk-drawn heart,
 fading on a smoke-choked boulevard.
The sniper reloads to the lullaby’s lie,
 innocence fades, and children die.

“Ceasefire!”
 says the treaty ink,
 still wet, and bleeding into the desert sand.
The general’s watch ticks, a relentless drone,
 overrun, smashed upon the bloodied stone.

“Ceasefire!”
 a mother’s whisper,
 stitched into a flak-vest’s hollow glow.
The drone’s low hum, a discordant hymn,
 targeted through the night’s darkened brim.

“Ceasefire!”
 carves the chaplain’s tongue,
 while the armoury turns its key.
Counting shells like rosaries, again,
 the earth remembers its red, relentless stain.

On the evening news once more,
 “Ceasefire!”
 a graphic, three seconds, soon buried in mirth.
The bomb dreams of a birthday’s cheer,
while peace remains distant and fragile here.

But let the untouched voices rise,
 through the static and blustering press.
Not for victory,
 but the peace we desire,
– “Ceasefire.”

Shared with dVerse Poetics – imperative and GloPoWriMo 2026 Day 8:
use a simple phrase repeatedly, and then make statements that invert or contradict that phrase.
Current events made this too easy!

Skipping Bones – 8th April 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 24 Comments

Rag and bone,
A skipping stone
My, my, my,
How you’ve grown,
Bone and rag,
A punching bag,
Now, now, now,
Nag, nag, nag,
White flag flown,
Starts to sag,
Jump up and down,
Get off your phone,
Give the dog a bone,

Rag….

Shared with dVerse Quadrille #245 – bone and GloPoWriMo 2026 – Day 7:
write your own poem that emulates skipping/clapping songs – something to snap, clap, and jump around to.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

The Costs Of Accepting Counterfeits

We always test that money is real
Yet fail to test our own assumptions
If your friend believes, it will appeal
But only act on tested constructions

April 6th And Other Illusions – 7th April 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 8 Comments

We’re all weird,
      and it’s a weird world,
held together
      by shoestrings and bubblegum.

What did I dream last night
      when I was awake?
I know that I was there
      and those things happened,
but try explaining that
      to my psychiatrist.

The farmer burns his fields
      and the wind blows my way.
I want to get high on helium
      and bloody his face.

What did I dream last night
      when I was awake?
A dog in a mask
      chasing a cat with leukaemia…
Wait!
      That actually did happen.

There was another April 6th 2026
       but it wasn’t a Groundhog Day.
No parallel universe,
       just another April 6th 2026.

What did I dream last night
      when I was awake?
I wanted to sleep badly,
      but I was facing resistance
from the soggy pillow
      and my crooked neck.

69 kph through a red light,
      getting frisky on a motorbike.
I told her don’t grow up too quickly,
      but she was busy taking selfies.

What did I dream last night
      when I was awake?
There’s a fine line between
      what is real and what is acceptable.
All this happened,
      more or less.

Shared with GloPoWriMo 2026 – Day 6:
try writing with a breezy, conversational tone, while including at least one thing that could only happen in a dream.

Also written for Punam’s dVerse prompt from a couple of months ago, utilising the first line of a book as the last line of a poem: “All this happened, more or less.” Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

All of this happened and all of it was dreamt.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Expect To Change Your Opinions

Honour what you don’t know
You are not so smart and wise
Everyone has the room to grow
Arrogance is where opinion cries

Mr Narcissist – 6th April 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 1 Comment

He’s always wearing a smile
An open door into his world
As if a white flag is unfurled
He hopes that you’ll stay a while

His words come in perfect measure
Offers you the last biscuit of the pack
Yet he’ll whisper behind your back
That you only bring him displeasure

He’s a dark empath; it is clear
With two faces, only one is for show
A narcissist from head to toe
Every word uttered is insincere

Once uncovered, he mounts an attack
To satisfy his ego and to explain
To the few of his friends who remain
That he will never ever turn back

Once his last friend disappears
He’ll claim it’s everyone’s fault
Now there’s none left to hear the result
The mirror’s been cracked all these years

Shared with GloPoWriMo 2026 – Day 5:
write a poem in which you talk about disliking something

While the dislike of a narcissist is not surprising, it often is to others who haven’t yet seen through the facade.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Prepare Yourself For Negativity

Busybodies, liars, ingrates and cranks
Are you ready for the negative jerk?
Be patient, forgive, even give thanks
Put your philosophy forward, to work

Under The Cover – 5th April 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 22 Comments

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

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Trust, But Verify

Let me see who you are, where you are from
Let me put you to the test
Despite our experience, we may still be wrong
Verification is for the best

On Patrol – 4th April 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 2 Comments

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

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 12 Comments

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

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

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.