Tag: Blog

Awards, Writing8 Comments

Versatile Blogger Award 2 – Thanks muchly!!

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Thank you Alma at Bookish Endeavours for nominating me for this award. As you know, I am a man of few words and fewer actions, so I will keep this short and sweet. The Rules: The rules say to thank the person who nominated you (also providing a link to their blog), nominate 7 blogs (okay, it should be 10, but I ran out of oomph) you feel should be awarded, and then share seven interesting facts about yourself. Seven blogs I’m nominating for the Versatile Blogger Award: My apologies if you’ve already received it or don’t feel like participating. https://chungwipff.com/ … Continue reading Versatile Blogger Award 2 – Thanks muchly!!

Dating, Love, Mental Health, Poetry, WritingLeave a comment

Turbulence. A poem.

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They're across a crowded roomAnd the narcissist withinIs screaming "look at me, look at me"But the introvert withoutIt whispers "look away, look away"Trying to smile is a struggleAs complex and as simple as a Gordian knotAnd while the cannibal butterfliesConsume your insidesAnd the flush creeping upMakes you look like a fire hydrantAnd you're thinking hardHow not to screw it upThey've started talking with anotherAnd all you have left is self reproachAnd one big "Doh!"Better luck next time Continue reading Turbulence. A poem.

haiku, Poetry, WritingLeave a comment

Haiku and You. Three poems (but not a trilogy).

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Return to Sender You give but don’t get Your love returns to sender A sea of mail lost Man’s Best Friend Ten years with my dog Plucky and redoubtable I still miss her so To Read Books, they fill my shelf Adventure seeds the dream clouds How I love the rain Haiku! 5/7/5 syllable love. Here’s a few I wrote the other day. 🙂 Continue reading Haiku and You. Three poems (but not a trilogy).

humour, The Sale, Writing1 Comment

The Sale. Part 11. A short series.

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Aisha froze and dropped her phone. The screen cracked on the concrete floor as it bounced at her feet. Across the large, concrete-walled room was Silas, the aged and insensitively tall butler. He was no longer dressed in his servant togs, having changed to a white lab coat and matching trousers, and accessorising with a .38 snub-nosed revolver. Pointing right at Aisha. Being only partly cowardly, I rushed in front to shield her. Having done so I realised perhaps it wasn’t the wisest course of action. My eyes widened. “What the…” “Indeed, John,” said Silas, smiling like a James Bond villain. … Continue reading The Sale. Part 11. A short series.

Fatherhood, Poetry, WritingLeave a comment

Family Lost. A poem.

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There are rabbits in my back yard Each day they rise to greet the light With eager noses, seek daily bread While the alpha, tall and bright Watches oh, so protectively Together, the family eats again I had a family once like them It now feels like so long ago I loved them so, my family lost The rabbits are reminders then With faith and hope I’ll survive the cost Continue reading Family Lost. A poem.

humour, Poetry, Writing5 Comments

No Sleep for the Wicked. A poem.

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Close my eyes Sleep the sleep of angels Until l can’t Rude awakening Brought back to life Defibrillated from dreams And held Status update: insomniac Mental tides Washing over tired eyes Why won’t You let Me sleep Damn brain 3:00am meeting with the board Micro managing My many personal investments My kingdom for a hammer To knock me out (In a placid way, of course) So I can ski those dream snow slopes again But no I guess not tonight So many sheep To keep me company 10,20,30,100,1000 Bah I hate sheep, anyway Don’t check Fb Blue light reinforcement Night … Continue reading No Sleep for the Wicked. A poem.

humour, The Sale, Writing1 Comment

The Sale. Part 10. A short series.

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Climbing down the ladder we came to the ground floor, with the passage leading to the pantry. “Should we stop here?” said Aisha, taking the iPhone out of her mouth and shining the torch light up the dingy corridor. “I really think we need to check out the basement.” I tapped my foot impatiently on the rung above her head. “We don’t know if Crazy Junifer is waiting in the kitchen.” Aisha looked up at me and frowned. “She could be anywhere.” “Can we just get going? The faster we get to the basement the faster we can get out … Continue reading The Sale. Part 10. A short series.