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:
Tag: Poets and Storytellers United
What does a number do?
Our Hidden Power
Joining In – 23rd August 2026
A rainbow requires a rain that stings
against the broken beams of sunlight,
then slowly lifts its colour from the sky
or shatters into mist on the earth.
I watched each shimmering light
from across the valley,
and the highest peaks where
scraggly goats adjust their footing.
Meltwater races down
to the river rushing by,
where some fish brace the current's weight
and others choose to carelessly let go.
As another crossroads comes into view,
I hear the gravel crunching the tune
of both right and wrong.
I join them—flat-footed,
unsure, waiting.
Written for Poets and Storytellers United #241 – change
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
It’s In Your Self-Interest
Pleasure beyond its measure
Becomes a punishing test
Persuasion on occasion
Must appeal to self-interest
Seed Fall – 31st May 2026
She cracked the dry seed pod open,
tipped the tiny black seeds into my hand,
closing my fingers around them—
a secret we both knew would not grow here.
Did she close my fingers to keep them safe,
or to make sure that I would feel them slip away?
I let go of the seeds—
but I kept the shape of her fingers closed around mine.
Shared with Poets and Storytellers United #229 – Letting go
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
We Have But One Obligation
In your life, there’s just one thing
That must be done to make it sing
Be a good person, make no excuses
Do your job so that no one loses
Two Wrongs Etc… – 6th March 2026
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.
Shared with Poets and Storytellers United #217
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.
Lovely List – 17th November 2025
- The first coffee of the day
- Watching our kittens play
- Whiskey on a winter’s night
- Holding someone special tight
- Memories triggered by song
- Feeling right where you belong
- Watching all the children grow
- Teaching all of what you know
- A great poem that you wrote
- Inspiration from a quote
- Causing a new friend to smile
- Contemplating for a while
- Watching the river flow by
- Migrations across the sky
- A forest walk in the rain
- Waking up again, again
Shared with Poets and Storytellers United #203 – love/hate
15th May 2026 – Shared with dVerse – List poem
The Neon Consensus – 9th November 2025
Let the water run to make its song
echo within these four enclosed walls;
Dreams confound the comforts of the dark.
The cull begins as the winter calls.
Bowed to god made of trivial light,
now singing for a dollar and change.
In the cold and damp, the neon’s glare
reflects this consensus, fake and strange.
Submitted to unknown intentions,
stood together in isolation.
The dark is always waiting nearby
when confusion led to temptation.
Misunderstandings silently grow,
written on the walls of silver and gold.
In the darkness deep under the ground
are where the prophets’ stories are told.
Teardrops fall like rain just out of reach,
to sprout the seeds with the words to teach.
For the Poets and Storytellers United prompt #202 this week, the subject was ‘what I love about the dark’, which led me to investigate the Simon and Garfunkel song ‘The Sound of Silence’, as the first line ‘Hello, darkness, my old friend’ came to mind. My poem references the song, but also the annotations found at genius.com that analyse the meaning of the song. Overall, the poem highlights both the positive and negative aspects of the dark.
Here’s how my poem came together (which I feel like explaining today):
Stanza 1:
- Lines 1 and 2 reference this quote from Paul Simon:
I used to go off in the bathroom because the bathroom had tiles, so it was a slight echo chamber. I’d turn on the faucet so that water would run — I like that sound, it’s very soothing to me — and I’d play. In the dark.
Change carries a double meaning here. - Line 3 references this annotation of the second part of the first verse of the song:
These lines lead us to believe that Simon had an inspiring dream, the vision of which can be easily recalled when he seeks out the comfort within the darkness. - Line 4 references the Kennedy assassination, which is thought to be part of the inspiration for the song.
Stanza 2:
- Lines 1-4 reference the lyrics and annotations for the second verse
…the author has a dream about ten thousand people bowing to a god they made of neon light. The god represents the fake and shallow culture they are building on pop stars and the dollar bill. The author feels as if he is the only one who is not content with living in the fake, trivial culture that was stated.
Stanza 3:
- Line 1 references this annotation
Silence refers to submission. He reveals how people so foolishly follow rulers without actually knowing a ruler’s true intentions and background. - Line 2 references this annotation
…the song’s theme about people’s isolation and failure to communicate with or understand each other. - Lines 3 and 4 continue this idea but try to show that the darkness is there for either ill or good, and it’s up to the individual how they choose to deal with it. Using it as a place to grow and learn, or to remain in ignorance.
Stanza 4
- Lines 1 -4 reference this annotation
“Writing on the wall” is a biblical reference that refers to a prophecy of doom. Daniel 5:5 tells the story of an arrogant king of the Babylonians who worshipped gods of gold and silver. - Silver also references the subway cars from the lyric in verse 5
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls…”
The couplet
- These two lines are a rewrite of three lines in verse 4 of the song, and attempt to find a better way of managing the darkness
“Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you
but my words, like silent raindrops, fell…”
October’s Monologue – 12th October 2025
Shared with Poets and Storytellers United – October. Looks like I kinda wrote another autumn/seasonal poem!
A woodsmoky voice and an air of damp earth,
I am the fight between fire and frost.
A necessary surrender to long days of mirth;
it’s dizzying green confidence slowly lost.
I am taught by the balance of the equinox,
a perfect tipping point towards the dark.
Opposites are revealed in the winding of clocks
to set the woods ablaze with a beautiful spark.
A misunderstood beauty is admired in release;
your confessions lay your architecture bare.
A thousand papery secrets fall with caprice,
then forgotten like a quietly whispered prayer.
At the door, I tell, ‘Rest now, your work is done.’
To love something means you must also let it go.
Do not mourn when the truth cannot be outrun;
just look me in the eye and enjoy my show.
40 Years – 12th June 2025
every day, no meat
it’s been this way 40 years
so much more to eat
every day we meet
for breakfast, lunch and dinner
every day no meat
a challenge to others’ fears
young and old alike
it’s been this way 40 years
a life still complete
without the death and killing
so much more to eat
A cascade poem using the haiku form (stanza 3 made inside out) as prompted at the Chimeric Poetry Scavenger Hunt: and shared with Poets and Storytellers United #180: Stubborn About the Small Things
Time Masters Call – 4th April 2025
Shared with Momoetry April Poet Month challenge – free verse and inspired/paraphrased from this post at Spinning Visions
23rd Jan 2026 – Shared with Poets and Storytellers United #211 – Night and Day
With you, I find myself wishing;
everywhere I look
…all I see are clocks…
…tick, tick, ticking…
Both feet rarely grounded,
but six-thirty,
twice a day, at time masters call.
Fill my hourglass with molasses
because I cannot make it stick;
make the drips slow and sweet…
tick, tick, ticking…
Later;
The world entirely changed;
a rose garden under concrete
pillars that hide the sky.
Redded hands,
strawberry smears or bloodied
stings of sweat and toil?
With you, I find myself wishing;
twice a day, at time masters call;
at these intersections,
…all I see are clocks…
…tick, tick, ticking…
Pretty March Buds On Young – 11th February 2025
Shared with Poets and Storytellers United Friday Writings #163: Backwards, Upside Down, Inside Out taking an existing poem and writing it backwards to see where it takes you. My original poem ‘Young Buds March On Pretty’. I like this idea and will probably try it again.
1994ever 