The Fault in Our Stars. A book review.
It seems I can’t stop reading profoundly affecting books. A friend of mine loaned me John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars, the mega-selling young adult novel about two teenagers in cancer remission who fall in love. “You’ll need some … Continue reading The Fault in Our Stars. A book review.
Dust and Rust. A poem.
Take down the green, straddle the Earth with the carbon footprint of giants. Every tree felled, another wooden nail in our meagre wooden coffin. Let the next race be won by whomever loves this planet more than humans being, who in our rush to claim the prize have won nothing but dust, rust, and forgotten lies. Continue reading Dust and Rust. A poem.
Thor Ragnarok. A movie review.
By Odin’s shaggy beard, there shalt be no spoilers here! I’m one of those moviegoers who felt the Marvel formula was getting a bit stale. Well, Thor Ragnarok hasn’t varied it too much, but has added enough humour and lasting … Continue reading Thor Ragnarok. A movie review.
Phantom Limb. A poem.
I’m forever haunted by this phantom limb, writhing in my sleep, guilt stricken for my sins. I see you in every couple on the street, and at the coffee shop, where we drank each other in. It feels like you’re still across from me; the conversation, imagined and forlorn, accusing eyes that follow me no more. Your ghost absorbs my days and nights, a peripheral blur, just out of sight. Time heals all wounds; such perfect sense, but not in my experience. You’re the limb I lost, that still persists. A phantom limb, my will insists. Continue reading Phantom Limb. A poem.
Haiku Friday: ‘Mourning Flowers’, a Haiku trilogy.
Mourning Flowers 1. The flowers in bloom, painted like rainbows in June. Yet, you tear them down. 2. You cast them aside, like radioactive waste. And now: here you are. 3. They are reminders of all you’ve reaped and sown and lost. Mourn your life. Continue reading Haiku Friday: ‘Mourning Flowers’, a Haiku trilogy.
In The Winter Dark. A book review.
I read a lot of books, but don’t often get the chance to post a book review. Then along comes a book that stuns me into submission, like a two-by-four wielded by some grinning, dream-fisted maniac. “If only we hadn’t … Continue reading In The Winter Dark. A book review.
Let down. A poem.
I’m let down, again. Every letdown compiling like a coded compunction, in synapses despoiled by repetition and disfunction. Swarmed and overloaded, categorised and goaded. Too many times to make sense of it all. Letdown, like so many times before. Who has any tears left to cry? And why bother to even try. Continue reading Let down. A poem.
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 on a big broadsheet. Walk alone, not by yourself, but like him: truly alone, like the world has eaten you up and spat you out. Deserted, when you truly needed love instead of doubt. This is how he feels. So extend a hand. Feel with him. … Continue 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 … Continue 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 … Continue 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 friends stepped delicately around the shards like navigating a minefield. Every once in a while I would think about tidying up. But the strewn slivers were a reminder both comforting and saddening. One day, I awoke to find the pieces were gone, as if they had … Continue 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 serious is not for me, today. Cheers Steve 🙂 Continue 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 … Continue 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 among the starfish and crustacean shells, unworried by the weather, seabed tales in whale song punctuate their empty dreams. Continue reading Dead Men Deep. A poem.
Writing…stuff.
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 … Continue reading Writing…stuff.
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