Fateful Feeling – 11th February 2026

parenthesis

spring approves wholly
lady, my flowers, blood kisses
will to wisdom, a life a fool pays

swear by syntax
this fate of paragraph


for my world pays
better never feeling the things

first is
blood kisses, my lady, flowers
death approves wholly

parenthesis

Shared with dVerse Quadrille #241 – flowers. A poem formed only using words from e.e. cummings ‘since feeling is first’.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Hero Or Nero?

The king attends to honour and health
While the tyrant overindulges their wealth
Can you counter the many temptations
That gather to trouble your foundations?

Not My Beach – 29th January 2026

Pixels, faith, dust

Beaches I will never swim,
blue and bright;
Mock me with your gourmet food
under the moonlight.

You thrust a quiet knife in
with each sunset post;
As I eat my thinning stew
with old dry toast.

Share if you must

Shared with dVerse Quadrille #240 – trip. I didn’t use the word ‘trip’ in this, but ‘sunset’ could be easily replaced with ‘trip’s’. I prefer it this way, though. This poem is a reference to complaints about people posting their holiday photos online without regard for how that might affect others. I personally don’t know how I feel about this either way but that could be because I have been in a position to be able to experience beautiful beaches and gourmet food.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Keep It Simple

Everything can be as simple as said
This problem may be your last
The complexities are all in your head
How soon it has all passed

You Can’t See Me When I Close My Eyes – 17th December 2025

Shared with dVerse Quadrille #238 – hibernate.
The initial line is taken from Jae Rose’s poem ‘Coax’.

It is hard to
live fully above ground.

The nail that sticks
up gets hammered down.

Protected in silent procrastination
like a seasonal hibernation,
sleeping through until cessation.


When things settle down
I’ll return once more,
But until then, I’m
waiting for the thaw.

A Little Too Much – 10th September 2025

When does so much become so little?

Believing it’s always your turn


Your debt to yourself is catching up

Your life is empty (as such)

Left with no thing:


Just sand slipping through your fingers

Tell me
When does too little become too much?

This quadrille is a reworking of my poem Taking Stock, a cascading poem itself based on the lyrics (italicised) from the Nomeansno song Stocktaking. Shared with dVerse Quadrille #231 – much