Tag Archives: creative writing

Southward. A poem.

On the black tar veld,Surrounded by beastsAnd wavering heat.We travel the path: Forever southward,Across lost lands,‘Neath forgotten stars.Here, Hand-in-hand,Ear to the wind,Avoiding pitfallsAnd predatorsThat might bring us low,Wary yet unawares, Forever on, we go.Because we are lostIn each other’s talesAnd each other’s mindsAnd each other’s souls;And from here on in,We will always Share this road.Continue reading “Southward. A poem.”

Dark Minds & Bright Souls: A book of poetry – available now at DriveThruFiction

Containing newly edited versions of the poems from The All or the Nothing (2017) and Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered (2018), Dark Minds & Bright Souls is a 160-page hardcover collection for all the bright souls and dark minds out there. Available at https://www.drivethrufiction.com/product/389015/Dark-Minds–Bright-Souls

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.”