A Writer’s Prayer. A poem.

I slowly turn each page And every emblazoned word That lights the air In a breathtaking display Could not be any more Resplendent than it is These are my words And whether kind or cruel Winsome or fulsome They are mine and mine alone And my world shines far brighter Because they live and breatheContinue reading “A Writer’s Prayer. A poem.”

I Suck at Social Media.

I have a confession. One that’s obvious to some, especially those who know me. I suck at social media. Social media as a forum is both a treasure and a bane. It’s an information and networking portal and a source of disinformation and anxiety. Not to mention underhanded data collection, stalking, cyber bullying and echoContinue reading “I Suck at Social Media.”

The Book. A poem.

There’s a lot of typing here, Exposition to be done. A hard fought war on grammar And literacy that’s often won. Occasionally a photo finish (A second or a third), Or an error left in print That’s obviously absurd. Another book is done And another now begun: Eighty thousand words or so, The constant toContinue reading “The Book. A poem.”

Shores. A poem.

They stand on distant shores With the distance between (Insurmountable? Never) The ocean, just a puddle Some are unwilling to cross #BlackLivesMatter For more Poetry, click here. For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print. Click here to findContinue reading “Shores. A poem.”

Play. A poem.

Each day my play begins Screen play and type play Mouse play and horse play Print play and scan play Role play and life play Each day behind the keyboard My play begins For more Poetry, click here. For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and TheContinue reading “Play. A poem.”

Three Years!

Wow. It’s been three years of blogging, poetry, D&D, films, comics, stories and stuff. I trimmed down recently to just poetry and role playing game blogs, but the site is still going strong! 58000+ views, 1000+ posts, 1600+ followers, 3000+ comments (according to my WordPress stats). That’s not bad for a site I originally startedContinue reading “Three Years!”

Footsteps Away. A poem.

I walk through the dark, The sound of my feet echoing Through the empty streets. The dog stops and sniffs, A victim of instinct, circumstantial scents and sense. In the distance, The thump of a kick drum— Faster than my heart beat, But just as reassuringly present. Occasional passers by Nod their heads or not,Continue reading “Footsteps Away. A poem.”

Upstart Photographer – Rosella

I like to think I’m a bit of a photographer (that’s just the upstart in me). I also like to think I’m a bit of a poet (also the upstart). Let’s put them both together, shall we? Cheers Steve 🙂 Rosella. A poem. At rest, before play, Amongst a forest of chair trees And tableContinue reading “Upstart Photographer – Rosella”

Writer Interrupted: Young Classics

An excerpt from a response I did for a Uni YA writing course some time ago: Do you have your own private classics? Name one. Why do you call it a classic? What do you think makes a children’s or adolescents’ classic? Witches, Ghosts and Goblins, by Ruthanna Long, is an absolutely awesome picture book aboutContinue reading “Writer Interrupted: Young Classics”

Divides. A flash fiction.

This is a short fiction I wrote for a Uni subject I completed a while back. Enjoy! Cheers Steve 🙂  Divides. By Stephen Thompson. My mother is dusting. The feather duster she uses swishes lightly over the mementoes and photo frames on the shelf, cautiously tracing a path through our family history like a shipContinue reading “Divides. A flash fiction.”

Writer Interrupted: my new Poetry book!

The print proofs are back and the new poetry book is ready! Today, my second poetry book – Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered – is available in print. Inside, you’ll find 76 poems for various states of mind: happy, infuriated, inebriated, dogmatic, dramatic, smiley, wily, cranky, spunky, overwrought, overworked, sad, lonely andContinue reading “Writer Interrupted: my new Poetry book!”

Writer Interrupted: The next poetry book

It has been about a year since ‘The All or the Nothing’, my first book of poetry, was published as an e-book. It’s now available in print, as well. I guess it’s time for the follow up. I’ve been working hard, compiling and editing, designing and laying out the book in Adobe Indesign and Photoshop,Continue reading “Writer Interrupted: The next poetry book”

Save the Poet!

via Save the Poet! Like my poetry? For poems you haven’t seen before, try The All or the Nothing, my first book. It’s available now, in print and e-book formats. Click on the link above to find out how to get your copy, and help save this poor poet from extinction. Cheers Steve 🙂

Anvil. Part 20.

The Anvil stares down at Johnston, who unflinchingly returns the look. “You have a problem?” says Johnston. “Why am I not with Violet?” says the Anvil. “You’re too close to her. Might impede your judgement in combat.” Johnston raises his flechette carbine. “Now you better back off, friend. I like my personal space.” Olsin stepsContinue reading “Anvil. Part 20.”

Anvil. Part 19.

Shi-Cho smiles grimly as Flotsam station appears in the transteel cockpit window. At this distance it is little more than a tiny spinning tin can, a shining diamond against the charcoal disk of the planet below. Captain Hansen, seated in the pilot’s chair in front of Shi-Cho, gestures to a nearby monitor. “We’re being hailedContinue reading “Anvil. Part 19.”

Poetry. A poem.

When I read good poetry I want to write good poetry But my feeble affectations And wanton masturbations Pale to insignificance When compared to Browning, Whitman, Yeats I yearn to write good poetry The way I yearn to read good poetry But such poetic vastness Just becomes loquaciousness Flowing perspicaciously Away into a vast, uncaringContinue reading “Poetry. A poem.”

Anvil. Part 18.

Alfred Bester is a tall man, well over six foot and waif thin. He has a full head of brown hair with a prominent widow’s peak, greying somewhat but less than one would expect for someone in such a powerful position. Bester is supremely confident—a man doesn’t get to his level without being so. WhenContinue reading “Anvil. Part 18.”

Finding My Voice

“In truth, I never consider the audience for whom I’m writing. I just write what I want to write.” J.K Rowling. “You have to follow your own voice. You have to be yourself when you write. In effect, you have to announce, ‘This is me, this is what I stand for, this is what youContinue reading “Finding My Voice”

Anvil. Part 17.

Kanji sprawls in her hovering portachair, its suspensors struggling under her weight. Her spiked durasteel right arm dwarfs the other, whose musculature is networked with ridged veins. “So, boss”, she says. “How long until Chao gets here?” Johnston stands at the transteel viewport, arms folded, staring out into space. The dark planet below passes inContinue reading “Anvil. Part 17.”

Anvil. Part 16.

Like the new logo? I put a fair bit of work into it – Steve 🙂 Hansen’s airborne troop carrier hovers at the entrance to the ruined hangar. Shi-Cho taps his foot impatiently on some rubble as the side hatch slides open and he and his troops clamber inside. He makes his way to theContinue reading “Anvil. Part 16.”

The Poetry Writing Process

Okay, a few people asked me this. I thought I’d oblige with a post. I write the majority of my drafts on my iPhone, while I’m walking, watching TV, or sitting on the toilet (my compositional repository of choice). My writing very much depends on my mood and what has impacted me that day. IContinue reading “The Poetry Writing Process”

On Writing and Editing Poetry

Explain your editing process. What works best for you? Do you take risks? Are you objective? How have you taken the poems through its steps to completion? The Song Poetic. A poem about writing and editing poems. The toilet provides solitude, composure in a setting sometimes peaceful, sometimes filled with the keen echoes of urgentContinue reading “On Writing and Editing Poetry”

Anvil. Part 15.

The distant sound of automatic gunfire and plasma rounds echo from within the skeletal remains of the Chao Triad building. In the interceptor, Olsin’s finger pauses over the tether recall button. She notes two murky shapes in the dirty haze behind Granny Chun. “I think you had better rethink your options,” says Lady Chao asContinue reading “Anvil. Part 15.”

Anvil. Part 14.

“Get to the interceptor,” says the Anvil, gritting her teeth. As Chun, Jimmy and Olsin exit stage left, she flexes her fingers and tenses. Autonomic sensors and variable defence pattern assessments are whirling around her brain. Her HUD is flashing multiple warnings, red, red, red. She’s outclassed by the hulking armature before her. Shi-Cho isContinue reading “Anvil. Part 14.”

The Not-So-Burning Bush. A short tale.

I haven’t written a flash fiction for a while. Here’s my poor attempt at romantic fiction. Cheers Steve 😊 I was ensconced in the bush, its leaves and branches irritating and scratching my face. Completely hidden, I craned my neck to hear what was said, while trying to maintain some sort of focus on Jenny.Continue reading “The Not-So-Burning Bush. A short tale.”

Anvil. Part 13.

Olsin leads the motley crew of escapees through gleaming corridors towards one of the many tower hangars. As they approach a corner she places a hand on the Anvil’s groin and whispers “Wait, sugar.” Her hand lingers for an uncomfortably long time, then waves them onwards. Olsin’s carbine is at her shoulder, eye to sight,Continue reading “Anvil. Part 13.”

Anvil. Part 12.

Granny Chun is led sedately to a cell opposite the Anvil’s. She catches a glimpse of the big male skull behind the tiny transteel window as she is pushed gently into her cell by two armoured guards. Prison guard Olsin smiles at the Anvil as she palms the door closed and waves the escort away.Continue reading “Anvil. Part 12.”

Anvil. Part 11.

The Anvil struggles groggily to her feet. The room is silent. “What did I miss?” she says. Lady Chao and Granny Chun are still kissing. “Somebody want to fill me in on this development?” says the Anvil. Violet runs over to her and grabs her leg protectively. Sarain’s EMPG is at the Anvil’s head again.Continue reading “Anvil. Part 11.”

Anvil. Part 10.

Lady Chao’s headquarters is just as ruinous as the other buildings surrounding it. Rusted metal supports play peek-a-boo through holey concrete walls. The lower levels are salt-sutured steel and raggedy plate glass. Only the top four levels are decently attired: various rooftop antennas, dishes and hangars; multiple gun emplacement bubbles poking through garish red panelling;Continue reading “Anvil. Part 10.”

The Luminous Details of Poetic Description

Exercise: Poet Ezra Pound described the “luminous details” that reveal and transmit an image swiftly and deeply. Find an image that resonates with you. Write a poem about this object in no more than 10 lines, keeping in mind the art of description, and the luminous details that move the reader. When you have writtenContinue reading “The Luminous Details of Poetic Description”

Anvil. Part 9.

A sonic boom cracks the sky beneath the floating city. Tossing to and fro in the wild surf below, the little inflatable raft seems little more than a speck on the ocean’s roiling back. The aging interceptor slows and pulls up twenty metres above it, hovering unsteadily in the wind and rain. Big Jimmy eyesContinue reading “Anvil. Part 9.”

Anvil. Part 8.

The tall old woman is angry. She throws her cup of shoujiu across the room where it shatters against the wall. “They took my interceptor?” Her eyes are narrow slits, her crow’s feet now a delta fanning both sides of her face. The armoured men kneel before her, heads bowed to the floor. One watchesContinue reading “Anvil. Part 8.”

Anvil. Part 7.

It’s six hours out and Granny Chun vomits into the bucket for the seventh time. She groans and spits bile into the foul, bitter broth meandering at the bottom of the pail. Violet is out of her capsule, sleeping restfully, strapped into a seat next to the Anvil. The boat heaves and sways in theContinue reading “Anvil. Part 7.”

Anvil. Part 6.

They tramp down five flights in faulty glowglobe dimness, skirting sleeping derelicts and the occasional Verso dealer. They are given wide berth by the occupants; Granny Chun’s pumpgun speaks volumes without ever needing to bark. Eventually they reach a level just above the thrashing surf—dockside. Parts of the floor are gone (collapsed or removed, whoContinue reading “Anvil. Part 6.”

The Sale. Every Episode!

The Sale was an unplanned, episodic story I wrote for my blog over a six-month period. Following is a complete list of every episode, so you can read in order from the beginning. Enjoy! Steve 😊 Part 1 – The Door Part 2 – The Butler Part 3 – The Host Part 4 – TheContinue reading “The Sale. Every Episode!”

Anvil. Part 5.

The Anvil stares blankly at Granny Chun—not much different from most of her male body’s expressions. “I think you better fill me in. From the beginning.” Chun grins. “Of course. But we need to get out of here.” She points to the far side of the floor, about a hundred metres across the other sideContinue reading “Anvil. Part 5.”

Anvil. Part 4.

Shi-Cho has worked spec ops for many years. His body has been wounded, trashed and rebuilt so many times he almost forgets which parts are human and which are cybernetic. His left eye is biosynthetic, but his right is original. He prefers the artificial one. After this job he will have the human eye replaced—aContinue reading “Anvil. Part 4.”