Excuse Me, Sir – 7th March 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

This was inspired by a writing exercise that went like this:
What’s going on in the picture?
What do you see that makes you say that?
What else do you see?
What do you see that makes you say that?

Repeat. And again. And again.
Consider keeping a journal and doing this exercise a few times a week. Practicing often will help you understand how much detail is part of your daily life. Background detail is what makes the world feel vivid and real — a quality that you want to imbue all of your creative work.

On Jalan Alor, the riders buzz through

avoiding the double-parked cars

Lazy feet scuffing pedestrians 

approach their favourite sambal stalls

waiting for the 4 o’clock rain to pass



The mountains meet the clouds

casting doubt and desires

From apartment windows

no one is looking out

because it’s just another day in K-Hell

and their stories go…


“Our religion dictates we can’t hold hands

or kiss in public

but I can’t wait to jump his bones

behind closed doors.”



“I shouldn’t have upset the boss like that,

it was just an off-the-cuff remark.

I wonder how much longer I have to stay here

facing the wall”

“I’m diving for gold!

Well, actually, I dropped my phone,
but the brochure said it’s waterproof

to a depth of six metres.
It should be ok – I’m standing on the bottom.”

“Did you call a taxi?

You know,
it’s better to avoid the holes in the road.

It’s been raining anyway.
Better hop on.”

Two Wrongs Etc… – 6th March 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 1 Comment
The image shows the girls of Shajareh Tayyebeh Elementary School in Minab on February 25th, who were all killed in an attack attributed to the United States and Israel.

Inspired by and paraphrased from this anonymous message from a young man in Iran published by Equator, commenting on how the fervour he feels from outside the country does not consider the fallout of the supposed heroic actions of their saviours.

The diaspora is manic.

Disconnection,
bordering on hallucination.

Speaking a second language
hearing only the first.

Opposite things can be true
as enemy flags flow
in harmonic waves.

Rhetoric raises ghosts
outside of reality’s window.
Feverish certainty
knows no consequence.

Outside is only more noise
in solidarity with itself.

But here,
real,
live,
breathing…
‘symbols’!

Fantasy politics, safely
in faraway fields,
grain-fed on grief
no one has to harvest.

Take these children,
lay them neatly on the altar
of an unnamed dawn.

Call it tomorrow.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Don’t Tell Yourself Stories

Are the tales we tell about ourselves really true?
Was everything so certain and so real?
Don’t create a fantasy around everything you do
When for others it holds no appeal.

Phrases Of The Moon – 5th March

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 15 Comments

Shared with dVerse Poetic Tuesdays – phrases

on hushed earth
a silent thread

a broken myth
rain’s soft secret


grief’s long tide
honeyed starlight

let the world spin
a different kind of wild


kiss the concrete
light-starved flowers


echoes in the throat
this fragile frame


the dusk demands
an atlas of the heart


where shadows drink

the last good hour


bone-deep cold

and time goes by




to wander off


this mortal coil

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Cutting Back On The Costly

The cost is not just in the buying of things
But all the keeping them in mind it brings
Do you really need it and what is it costing
When managing it all is so exhausting?

Negative Space – 4th March 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 3 Comments

This write is based on the idea that Gaza and the Palestinians are not victims of hate, but because evil loves destruction, they are, in fact, the victims of love. The art metaphor was inspired by the Red Hand Files #355

Another beautiful day dawns in Gaza
as he admires his sculptures

victims of his love

Polishing rough edges
after careful, endless siege

Sulphur and ash pigments
splatter the canvas

Crushed concrete and tear gas
the rubble catches the morning sun
in negative spaces

The screams add new textures
to the palette

His meticulous love
crafting masterpieces
signed with an airstrike

His initials salt the fields

The critics gather
viewing from watchtowers
the tenderness in the demolition
the love in every line

In exhibition
his greatest work

entitled ‘Peace’

There are murmurs of great restraint
“the composition is heartbreaking”

Evil enjoys destruction
looks upon its work as art
with a curator’s pride

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Awareness Is Freedom

No slavery is more disgraceful
Than one which is self-imposed
Is it vanity or ignorance
That is keeping your eyes closed?

Let’s Get Gone – 3rd March 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

Go, go, let’s go, let’s get gone


I know, I know, it will get done


Each dawn ignites the blaze, the spark


Set fire to the fires in the dark


Take me, make me, burn, burn, burn


Now! Now! Now! – There’s much to learn

Written (well after the fact) for the GloPoWriMo 2025 prompt Day 15:
…informed by repetition, simple language, and expressing enthusiasm. They have a sermon/prayer-like quality, and then end with a bang. Your challenge is to write a six-line poem that has these same qualities.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

(Dis)Integration

Stand with the philosopher, or with the mob
We’ve all got a little Jekyll and Hyde
Don’t let contradictions turn into an inside job
Reason with complications must be applied

No Encores – 1st March 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 2 Comments

Not a new metaphor by any means but this is my take on the theatre of life. Another poem, belatedly, written for Punam’s dVerse prompt of using opening lines to books as closing lines to poems. This one is “Here is a small fact: You are going to die” from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.

Act 1, Scene 1:

Scriptless and shoved onstage mid-scene,
hot lights glaring;
applause and judgment circling
for lines never rehearsed.

And yes,
every actor exits,
no matter how fierce their monologue.
A trapdoor beneath every spotlight.

The curtain falls without exception.

Act 1, Scene 2:

Between the acts of this cabaret
there is that strange, unchoreographed stretch;
where the stage lights hum
and the lines grow thin in our hands.

And those unscripted pauses,
those missed cues and improvised lines…?
They are only the bright, temporary glare,
the hush before applause or silence,

Act 2, Scene 1:

and the quiet truth
that for a moment,
against your choosing…

you were here
in the light.

Act 2, Scene 2:

You owe the audience nothing.
You are simply here, for a brief while,
and your time is yours to fill
or to simply endure, as you must.

No obligation,
only the raw,
temporary fact of existence itself.

Act 2, Scene 3:

Birth – a brutal act that makes me wonder, ‘why?’

Finale:

Here is a small fact:
you are going to die.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Where Philosophy Begins

Exercise reason, question your beliefs
Consider everything taken for granted
Take the first steps towards inner peace
With the seeds, just yesterday, planted

Hushes – 28th February 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 20 Comments

Shared with W3 #200 – alphabet poetry

ash beneath cradle;

drifting
echoes,
fade;

glowing hushes
in jewelled knots

linger,

murmur;

night observations
pale quietly;

ribbons, silvery tin;
under veils,

wispy x-rays
yearning zero.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

When You Lose Control

Reason may have abandoned you
But it was you who had abandoned it
After messing up, what did you do?
Stop! Compose! And just let it sit

Cold Dawn – 27th February 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 20 Comments

you were my shoulder
i lay my head upon you
where i learned to sleep

daily arrivals
would calm the tremors of my
shaken psychosis

you always wanted
more of me, I would prostrate
blind, oblivious

you were in control
but i woke to the cold dawn
sick of your deceit

the truths that you told
between the lies were only
my own self-abuse

Shared with Tanka Tuesday #53 – rensaku. This poem follows on neatly from yesterday’s, the effects of alcohol still on my mind and foregoing the request of seasonal poetry in the prompt, perhaps. This set of senryu tells an autobiographical story and maybe, just maybe, highlights an emotional spring, an awakening.
The seed of the idea for this poem came from reading Matthew Maitland’s ‘You Want Mythology?’

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Cultivating Indifference Where Others Grow Passion

There are virtues and there are vices
All the indifferents lie in between
Cake is cake, no matter how it slices
Always coverting more is obscene

The Song Sparrow – 26th February 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 20 Comments

Shared with dVerse Poetics Tuesday – use a classic opening line as an ending line. I chose Charles Bukowski’s Ham On Rye, ‘The first thing I remember is being under something.’ I’m not familiar with the story but I ended up with the idea of Hank waking from his dreams and memories of the night before.

I was terrified, my sweaty hands shaking
a brittle-boned cold heat fever
a pillow headache, suffocating
on a bilious, swollen tongue

thick with last night

smoky lungs, coughing iron filing lumps
of congealed blood
bitter, soggy pills in a pail.


She had shimmered in the weak light
through the foggy frame
whispered strawberries through rotten teeth
my ears are catching golden secrets
often repeated on other nights
in other city lights


As the working men clocked out
boots echoing toward small kitchens
a small brown bird tapped rhythmically
at the window
to bring my relief to an end
and the first thing I remember
is being under something.

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

To Each His Own

When you give a piece of your mind, it’s refused
Just as you would do when verbally abused
No one feels better, nothing is achieved
No point to giving, if nothing is received