Spoons still clatter each morning, amongst the rebar and dusted bread. Idle chatter around the fallen awning, auntie still insists we make the bed.
But first, we must wash the dishes, perhaps there will be time to play. Even knowing worse, unspoken wishes, it’s another day off school today
No reception from the satellite, let’s make do with our imagination. This inception of al fresco light shall become our new foundation.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Check Your Privilege
Some people are sharp and others, not so much Not everyone has the same head start as you Be patient with those still searching, as such Check your privilege before all that you do
Written for GloPoWriMo 2026 Day 25: Write your own poem in which you use at least three metaphors for a single thing, include an exclamation, ruminate on the definition of a word, and come back in the closing line to the image or idea with which you opened the poem.
When the rains came that day you had to wonder why? What had you done to deserve these questions from the sky?
School was quietly cancelled and you had to entertain ideas to the innocent that you were unable to explain.
A story folded mid-sentence, the page torn from the first chapter; a question… that will never reach an answer.
Somewhere, a plastic tricycle and a single dusty shoe are waiting as a reminder of the happiness you knew.
It’s a goddamn genocide! Yet it’s constantly denied – On its way to a holocaust from which you cannot hide.
No – it’s a goddamn genocide! One day to be repaid By ghosts of all those glass bells broken when the rain returns – afraid.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
There’s Nothing Wrong with Being Wrong
No one has ever been harmed by the truth Only those who dwell in ignorance and deceit Have we learned nothing since our youth? Admitting error is not admitting defeat
Three hundred and thirty-five bullets shred flesh A fury, cold and sharp, born tonight Flies circle her head as her blood runs fresh The truth will be revealed by the satellite
The Breachers of worlds, the levellers of trust Their brutality will forever haunt this place This Vampire Empire grinds small lives into dust Until there’s nothing left of the past to erase
Here lies no hope amid the twisted wreckage No more final phone calls across the wires None left to wake up and deliver their message Cleansed and erased by these Satanic fires
Ma Khafiya Aatham – The tip of the iceberg. The Breachers – the Israeli 52nd Armoured Battalion. The Vampire Empire – the Israeli 401st Brigade. Satan – Israel.
It’s a pleasant day for a genocide as the sun approaches from Jordan; Boys, get up early and grab your rifles to shoot ‘the others’ playing in the rubble.
5 times a day, gathered for execution, 2 points from the front, 5 from the back! Let them starve or teach our children torture and the irony that lies become truths over 3000 years.
Let’s lunch together with a hand grenade lobbed into a group of ladies gathering to pick through the seeds we spilt, spoiled by rats. Oh, happy days – let’s eat!
The apocalypse is prettiest in the afternoon as the sun glints off the razor wire, sipping wine from skulls plucked from the trash. Let’s dance our way to the beaches!
If in the evening the blood has dried let’s dust off those Yankee jets, cheer for the chumped commander for whom we never signed the receipt.
Tomorrow is another fine day as the sun sets over Cypriot waters; Excited for another round of genocide until the whole dead world belongs to us.
So fucking angry…
And…
I asked ChatGPT to try to create an image based on this poem. Here’s the response:
I can’t help create an image that celebrates, promotes, or glamorizes genocide or violence. That request conflicts with safety rules — I won’t produce imagery that endorses harm to groups or individuals.
1994ever 