Through His Eyes. A poem.

See the world. But not through your own eyes. Try his. Try seeing and yet not seeing, failing to understand what they truly perceive. Messed up signals, like a traffic jam waiting to happen. Open your mouth, like his mouth, and watch the words tumble out: unannounced, tactless and indiscreet; a crossword of errors onContinue reading “Through His Eyes. A poem.”

The Novel-writing Locomotive.

My novel is (once again) back on track. How many times have I said that? It seems every time I slip the rails I have some new excuse (for a list of the latest ones, click here). Coupled with my short attention span, my novel-writing train has jumped the tracks every few weeks, as ifContinue reading “The Novel-writing Locomotive.”

Invincible. A poem.

I’m alone against the storm, wearing custom-fitted armour, courtesy of the Lord. I’m a lone wanderer in form, but my way is assured, courtesy of the Lord. I’m a fighter on the boards, wearing gloves of solid steel, courtesy of the Lord. And I’m invincible, a man of principles. Courtesy of the Lord. . IContinue reading “Invincible. A poem.”

Heartbreak. A prose poem.

My heart was broken, and the pieces lay scattered across the floor like so much fractured crystal. It lay where it fell for days, weeks, months. I fixated on my shattered heart for a long time. Everywhere I looked, everywhere I walked, I was in danger of cutting myself on a fragment. Visitors and friendsContinue reading “Heartbreak. A prose poem.”

Haiku Friday. Three freaky haikus.

Message I got a message, anonymous, confusing. “Don’t wait up,” it said. Nerd Glasses, weird hair cut, quirky disregard for all. “Grab a seat, player!” Dog All dogs love me so. Must be my cool aftershave. Or meat in pocket. . Haikus, those wonderful little 5/7/5 syllable Japanese poems, are usually serious. I decided seriousContinue reading “Haiku Friday. Three freaky haikus.”

Guest Post: Mind Matters 

I’ve never had anyone do a guest post before, but I was chatting with my sister-in-blog Donna, of mind matters, and asked her if she’d like to write one. Donna and her family were traumatised while living with a religious cult, and she works through her issues in her blog, along with providing snippets ofContinue reading “Guest Post: Mind Matters “

Dead Men Deep. A poem.

Hulls of broken ships, scattered like white noise. The sea bed, as black as a charcoal cellar. It welcomes sailors to their ends, bloated corpses sleeping in hammocks of crusted ribs, drunk on briny, antique wine. Coral wreaths and sawdust mouths; barnacles, the new tattoo that marks the passage from man to martyr. Here amongContinue reading “Dead Men Deep. A poem.”


So, I’ve posted a few things about writing. Not that I’m an expert or anything, but readers seem to like me rambling on. I’ve made it a ‘thing’ (I like to do that–‘Haiku Friday’ anyone?). So, now you can find all the posts grouped under Writer Interrupted in the menu. It saves me from creatingContinue reading “Writing…stuff.”

City of the Lost. A poem.

I looked to the city. The lights were on, but nobody was home. I was alone. I expected dust devils to whirl as I walked through my world. Behind every door a Marie Celeste, of empty chairs and still full plates. Always alone. Wherever I looked reigned emptiness, yesterday’s news and mild distress. The dustContinue reading “City of the Lost. A poem.”

Mutant Year Zero – Gamma goings-on in the wasteland

I said ages ago (yes, literally eons, in a time when winter frost covered the land like icing sugar. Hmmm. That’s a stupid simile) that I would review some Tabletop Role Playing Games, as I am a complete nerd nut for these things. Today, I’m going to talk about a lovely little Swedish RPG calledContinue reading “Mutant Year Zero – Gamma goings-on in the wasteland”

The Art of Observation, Character, Dialogue and Navel Gazing. An occasional post on writing.

Do you suffer from depression? If so, you’ll know the Black Dog. If not, click here or here before reading on.  An Observation on Observation Every writer should be an observer. Every writer should watch the people around them, taking in the nuances, the poetry of conversation, the body language electric that at once disguisesContinue reading “The Art of Observation, Character, Dialogue and Navel Gazing. An occasional post on writing.”

Clockwork. A poem.

Causal expectations and experience will say that I will just gain nothing from this long and tedious day. My movement winding down, corroded, insecure, scattered springs, nuts and bolts and thoughts abound, unsure. Who’s to say my automation is better than before? Let cogs and gears grind on and on as I cogitate some more.Continue reading “Clockwork. A poem.”

Haiku Friday. Three Haikus pour vous!

Fence Sitter Here in your desert, every choice a mirage; each oasis lost. Silence Shy, foolish man child,  so terminally quiet. Silence will end you. Bloom I wish love would bloom. In the field of broken hearts, loneliness grows strong. . Well, it’s that time of the week again. Haiku Friday demands three line poemsContinue reading “Haiku Friday. Three Haikus pour vous!”

The Great Australian Novel. A pondering.

So, what exactly happened with the writing of my great Australian novel (and I use the term ‘great’ very loosely)? I don’t have writer’s block*. I know a lot of writers suffer from this, and I am always sympathetic (did I say sympathetic. Sorry, I meant uncaring and sociopathically lacking empathy), but not me. Actually,Continue reading “The Great Australian Novel. A pondering.”

Fall for you. A poem.

The light is fading, you’re walking out; she’s reclining luxuriantly. The light in those magical eyes is enough to blind a man, before you question why. That smile, combined with sylvan form, is hot enough to melt a man (raised on a diet of ‘avoid’). Like a supernova sundae, take him out at the knees,Continue reading “Fall for you. A poem.”

Place and Setting. A writing perspective.

Yet another of my long-overdue university out-takes. Following is an answer to a question about establishing place and setting for stories, that I wrote several months ago for one of my writing subjects. I moved back to my parents’ house after being away for many (Read: MANY) years and I’m now living in the roomContinue reading “Place and Setting. A writing perspective.”

The Near-Empty Bottle. A poem.

I glanced drunkenly into the near-empty bottle. In the viscous alcohol I saw  my face, rippled and twisted  like a garish Mr. Hyde. I laughed at the carnival mirror, so accurately reflecting  every facet of my, oh, so petulant features. Every flaw and misconception brought to life in  errant ripples at the bottom of aContinue reading “The Near-Empty Bottle. A poem.”

The Wait. A short tale.

She waited as he wasted away. She watched and pined. He watched as well; sometimes TV, sometimes her. She fed him hand-to-mouth. Eventually he refused to eat. As he grew thinner, the drip in his arm pulsed like a marathon runner, sucking exhausted breaths as it neared the finish line. He smiled painfully. She did,Continue reading “The Wait. A short tale.”

Haiku Friday. Yep, it’s a thing, now.

  Ahead. A Haiku Trilogy.   Mouth The subversive grin Making mellifluous voice A love explosion Eyes Eyes of deep regret Wash away your highest hopes Rivers to the sea Ears What bitter sounds made Cannot be unheard again Forever doubting . It’s Haiku Friday. (Yeah, I made it a thing last week. I canContinue reading “Haiku Friday. Yep, it’s a thing, now.”

Nights. A poem.

Nights staring into gloom. A mirror to reason, reflecting all your fallibilities and failing sensibilities. All your new found confidence, blown away like mist, before winds of uncertainty. Your moon is waning tonight. You are a crescent shell, threatening to pitch headlong into the drifting, darkening tide. Best sleep, before you persuade yourself otherwise. AsContinue reading “Nights. A poem.”

Blade Runner 2049. A movie review.

Spoilers? Don’t think so. Okay, so you saw the trailers and it looked interesting. Maybe you were interested enough to stream the original 1982 Blade Runner (actually one of the four director’s cuts, because the original with the horrible Harrison Ford voiceover is long gone). Maybe you read the fauning reviews or glanced at theContinue reading “Blade Runner 2049. A movie review.”

Breath. A book review.

Tim Winton’s Breath is the kind of book that challenges your thinking about what it means to be a writer. Winton’s prose flows like poetry, with immaculate meter and dialectal mastery. Breath makes me ashamed to say I’m a writer, because Winton is so good: I am not worthy. I have never been so profoundlyContinue reading “Breath. A book review.”

Justice League: the newest trailer ROCKS!

The newest Justice League trailer has dropped. And it is AWESOME. Check it out: I am so looking forward to this movie, out in November. Cheers Steve 🙂

Every Word. A poem and a thank you.

Every laboured keystroke, every considered verb and noun. Every gritted mental blank, every meaning so profound. Every silken metaphor, every glorious turn of phrase. Every underlying message, every edit, every change. Every keystroke, every line, ever thankful every day. Every joy I write that lies within, that flowers on every page. Thank you. . ThisContinue reading “Every Word. A poem and a thank you.”

Haiku Friday. Three haikus in a row.

Congregation This congregation What secrets are kept in here Hidden agendas Tai Chi Slow and graceful moves All mindfulness and mystique Far too many forms Prayer Bend my knee to Thou Communicate by steeple Wait for an answer . If you’ve followed me for a while you will know I absolutely love Japanese Haiku, withContinue reading “Haiku Friday. Three haikus in a row.”

American Assassin. A Movie Review.

Minimal spoilers. But it won’t matter much, because you know what’s gonna happen before it happens anyway. I was dragged along to see American Assassin. My best mate paid for the ticket, and it got me out of the house, so I couldn’t complain. Mitch Rapp (Dylan O’Brien) watches his girlfriend and lots of peopleContinue reading “American Assassin. A Movie Review.”

Window. A poem.

She’s seated before a window, sun highlighting shiny diamonds in her hair.  Her fingers are flamingoes on her smart phone, a wily dance sped up to double speed, of muscle memory and familiar keys.  Lips as full as pillows that I long to cushion with my own, and the dress she wears hugs contours ofContinue reading “Window. A poem.”

Online Dating Sellout

Okay, okay. I admit it. I sold out. I downloaded Tinder. If you have read my previous online dating posts (here, here, here, here and here), you’ll know that I was vehemently opposed to Tinder because of the considerably biased rep the poor app, and its users, have (note how I am now sounding moreContinue reading “Online Dating Sellout”

Superhot. A poem.

My iPhone is an older model…by a lot. The outside’s looking dated and she’s slower than she was. I’m thinking of trading up, because the new model is superhot. Was a time when I couldn’t take my hands off her, when my fingers traced her delicate contours. She was at my beck and call. Some kindContinue reading “Superhot. A poem.”