Happy Little Bluebirds – 12th March 2026

taking the first step
hope is on the horizon
so, so far away

morning mists rising
following rainbow’s release
will reveal the way

Shared with Senhai Saturday #42 picture prompt and Reena’s Xploration Challenge #420 – hope


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Seeing Things As The Person At Fault Does

Nobody thinks they are wrong, even when they are
They think they’re right, they’re just mistaken
Compassion and tolerance can heal the scar
Our duty, as we understand it, remains unshaken

Quiet Joys – 24th January 2026

An ambulance was called to the library
and the children all ushered out
After Ms Lee collapsed while reading
The incident, recalled without doubt

“Did the monster get the lady, mum?”
questioned Eli, who had covered his eyes
Ms Lee’s voice was nice but even at age 4
Eli knew that there would be a surprise

Marie was the new library volunteer
And just passed her course on CPR
Jumping up and checking for a pulse
In her story, she became the star

Bobby, Ms Lee’s son, was called
And he felt guilty at his selfish thoughts
He struggled to drive to the hospital
Obviously feeling out of sorts

Old Mrs Gupta had been in the M to N’s
when she emerged to all the commotion
She saw the event as a rehearsal
as it unfolded in slow motion

Ms Lee herself looked to the frightened faces
the sounds and light began to fade
As everything softened and became pale
She recalled all the quiet joys she had made

Written for Reena’s Xploration prompt #414, expanding on this prompt idea:
 A novelist creates a story told by five narrators, each contradicting the others.


Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Push For Deep Understanding

The first page is not enough,
leaving understanding rough;
For the lesson to remain a keeper,
You gotta go deeper and deeper.

A Slender Cord – 30th September 2025

A slender cord holds

a grace, being in balance,

elusively perched.


Papal songs of vibrant pair;

sweet-sweet jewels of the swamp.

A tanka, shared with Reena’s Xploration #400 – inspired by the attached picture from The Marginalian’s An Almanac of Birds. These elusive birds are known as ‘jewels of the swamp’ and their song is a ‘sweet-sweet-sweet’ sound. Their name is derived from their colour, an almost fluorescent golden-yellow, like the robes of a papal prothonotary (a high-ranking cleric in the Catholic Church. I learned all this today, too.


The first issue of BIG FAT TOAD is now available, featuring a few lines from me.

Here is a one-time giveaway code to use at checkout: 1KVP8SH

If that has already been used, then this ongoing code will allow 20% discount: BFT-20%-GSK4VNH

My Tinnitus – 29th August 2025

A relentlessly falling forward
Disconnected sonic information
A fry-crackle resonance
High-frequency vibration

A constant companion
Though hardly a friend
Cohesion of the chaos
An agitating sonic blend

A synaesthetic rainbow
Ears become wild eyes
Neural cross-wire overlap
A dizzy starred surprise


Wild harmonic distortions
Oscillating ear-to-ear
Polyphonic buzzing bees
Swarming and severe

Low-frequency vibration
Meditates the brain
Connected sonic information
Fall backward again

Shared with dVerse Poetics – noise
7th Feb 2026 – Shared with Reena’s Xploration Challenge #416 – susurrus

The Underdogs – 15th June 2025

Captured above to maintain format.


It’s been several days now

since I sat staring at this empty page;

waiting for the bombs to drop

to erase this void space.



Thinking of those hot days and nights in Rhodes;

thinking how I wasn’t scared of the future then,

wondering why I can’t get back there again;

Thinking how I got to here

and how impossible it feels to leave;



Thinking about the word collectors,

those saviours,

thinking about nouns;


~ How to make good to be better ~


How I would bake bread

in my safe European home;

Thinking why those memories cling

more than the achievements and disappointments since;



I never flew Hurricanes in Greece;

The only huns I fought were toy soldiers

and I always sided with the underdogs and losers;



Coincidence is telling me that it’s time

to start reading Proust;

Hoping for a revelation that will put me straight

and clear the fog…

as the bombs keep dropping all around others,

the blood spills across this empty page;

The word collector erased

throwing his life into the fire.


It’s been several days now.

The poem above was written for the first part of the W3 prompt #163. I was also inspired by Reena’s Xploration Challenge #385 using the phrase ‘word collector’.

The line ‘How I would bake bread in my safe European home’ is a reference to a time when I was about 12 and, with the help of my mother, I started baking bread. As I was obsessed with the Clash at the time I baked some bread rolls that spelled out the letters C-L-A-S-H, ‘Safe European Home’ being a song from their second album.

The line ‘I never flew Hurricanes in Greece’ is a reference to Roald Dahl and his book ‘Going Solo’ about his time as a fighter pilot in WWII. I just finished reading his book today. The mention of Proust is because I will start reading ‘In Search of Lost Time’ soon.

This poem is about not knowing what to write, knowing what to write, knowing what is important and the futility in sharing a few words with a few people.

The second part involves running it through the N+7 machine, where I have taken the following extracts to recompose, revise and make this new poem:

Captured above to maintain format.

The Underclass

It’s been several daylights now
since I sat staring at this empty pain;
waiting for the butchers of duty
to erase this void spoken.

Thought of those hot daylights and nightmares in Rhodes;
I thought how I wasn’t scared of the game then,
wondering why I can’t get basis there again;
Time – how I got to here
and how important it feels to leave;

Thunder about the word collectors
those saviours
threaten about nouns

~ How to make goodbye to be better ~

How I would bake breath
in my safe European honesty;
Thought why those menaces cling
more than the acquaintance of discipline since;

I never flew hysterical in grief;
The only huns I fought were trial sorrows
and I always sided with the underclass and loyal

Combination is telling me that it’s tone
to state reality, Proust!;
Hoping for a riot, that witch put me straight
and cleared the form…
as the books keep dropping all around outlines,
the body spills across this empty pain;

The word collector erased
throwing his lifetime into the fireplace
(throwing his lip into the flesh).

It’s been several delights now.

Faith, Hope and Courage – 24th May 2025

Constant communiqués of despair
The end of times always kept in mind
The hollow rings of Happy New Year
Distracting us from our daily grind
We become living embodiments
Of the catastrophes we’ve foretold
Trapped within these dark environments
Hopes are fading for the dreams we’re sold

Embolden the heart! Be courageous!
Inspire action to defend the world
Sell, not be sold to, is contagious
Flags of faith, hope and courage unfurled
Hope becomes the energy of change
A radical audacious duty
With optimism, we can arrange
Our thoughts towards a life of beauty

Inspired and paraphrased (one more time) by Nick Cave at The Red Hand Files #308. The title is also a play on words of Nick Cave’s album Faith, Hope and Carnage.
9th Mar 2026 – Shared with Reena’s Xploration Challenge #420

Statute Of Limitations – 11th May 2025

Shared with Reena’s Xploration Challenge #380 for the prompt ‘Who will read my diary?” I read through other people’s writing for the prompt and considered all the further questions raised from this initial one. It led to a more stream-of-consciousness write this time, perhaps because my own thoughts are not so clear yet. Who will even read this explanation?

Who will read my diary? I don’t know.

If you were deeply inquisitive…
I could be in trouble!
Because I told it all…

(mostly, one or two things remain too shameful,
even for me)

My words likely to upset
as I recall random thoughts from
thirty years ago.

How could a reader put it all into context
without reading from the beginning?

I’ve been good

(again, mostly)

for the last decade or two.

Thanks for the statute of limitations
in the few different countries I’ve lived!

(I only stole from corporations anyway;
and I haven’t written that story yet, but I will)

If you chose to take the time to read through it all
you would only see yourself
and hopefully you already know
what you are all about…

If I wished anyone to read my diary
it would be the children,
to inspire them to keep going
and never give up.

One More Time – 10th November 2024

Amongst the beauty of everyday
Familiarity may breed contempt
Waking with enthusiasm to play
Becomes more difficult to attempt

Maybe it’s a concrete jungle
Or a paradise you are facing
Each day a success or bungle
The happy rats keep on racing

So here it is and here we are
Another mountain for us to climb
Our attitude got us this far
‘cross crystal waters, one more time

Written for Sadje’s What Do You See picture prompt (above) and Reena’s Xploration Challenge – everydayness.
3rd Sep 2025 – Submitted to dVerse Poetics Tuesday – life and lemons

See Me Dead – 3rd August 2024

I want to see the grief expressed
Hear the kind words manifest
Let me celebrate the life I led
To become immortal now I’m dead

You don’t need to shed those tears
I got to enjoy so many years
But being gone is a long, long time
Don’t forget me and what was mine

What wishes made, to have been said
Or ones wished retracted instead
Look on my legacy for what it’s worth
You’ll too join me soon, returned to earth

You and me, will all be forgot
Ladies and gentlemen, that’s your lot!

Inspired by reading others’ poems about grief at dVerse this week and the idea of wanting to know how others feel about you once you are gone, much like my teenage student, who, after attempting suicide, said that she wanted to see her mother’s reaction once she was gone!
12th Feb 2026 – Shared with Reena’s Xploration #417


Today I’m feeling:

Tired and a little sick with a sore throat. I slept for almost twelve hours and crawled back in again at around 11 am, after a couple of coffees.

Today I’m grateful for:

Amy told me that she was talking to a village auntie (the cowman’s wife) over the fence this morning and asked if I was teaching at CRPAO. Amy said yes and the auntie said that her son is in grade 8 and that even though I don’t teach him, she has heard that I’m a good and kind teacher.

That was nice to hear.

The best thing about today was:

Eating some nice food at Bruno and Nut’s place this evening. Even though I was feeling a little tired and sick, I enjoyed eating, talking and listening with them.

Something I learned today?

I watched an interesting video about a new DAW in development called Blockhead. Even though I don’t even use the DAWs that I have, I would still be interested in the idea of playing with them one day.