Poetry – The Odd Chair

Poetry – The Odd Chair

On moving on some things were lost

And found of course in a dusty box

In losing things I once could not spare

I’ve never lost the small odd chair

It seems to tag along with me

No matter how I feel or who I see

The chair will be as it always is

Small and useless till someone sits

Hi all, sorry for the hiatus! I’ve moved. And I’ve had some strange things going on that led me to prioritise my spare time. But, just like the chair this blog just keeps coming back.

Hope all is well!

Dim But Bright Poetry

Poetry – They Care Not For My Past

Poetry – They Care Not For My Past

Riddled senseless

Awaiting cause’s explanation

For effect’s rude insistence

How did this begin, now we see the end

What path did I step foot on

That I wear this fated grin?

On whose whim was this the plate

I would don to meet my fate

What mind decided bladed staff

Would fit my fingers grasp?

But mine is not to question

Time for doubt has past

Legion stands five ranks deep

Uncaring for events now past.

Poetry – Current in Time

Poetry – Current in Time

I floated still, aware

Of salted current flowing in


No ticking hand in sight, through

Murky depths sands tumble

No longer confined by glass

That too once tumbled, before

Heated blast locked moments in place.



For them, imprisoning sisters and brothers to repeat

That moment of realisation

That moment of conclusion

That moment cannot be moved on from

Now glass walls highlight doom.

Poetry – Charity In Place Of State

Poetry – Charity In Place Of State

Sisters, brothers

Hear their cry

That life will worsen if we don’t stand

Polite and smiling, walking by


We watch ourselves be eaten

Stripped of flesh by the strand

Coldly putting faith

In charity’s bleeding hand


Now we’ve been warned of worse

If we dare to stumble, crawl

Commit to burning bridges

On the easiest path of all


Charity in place of state

Treats wounds caused in spite

That careless bite will strike again

Till human shields ignite


Poetry – Scrap Dragon


Burning bright when shade would suffice

Imbecilic vision disturbs peaceful night

Bolting light with hefty might

Hitting the ceiling and sticking tight


Blissful hunting whilst gears go clunking

Stealth is moot with rockets jumping

Screaming through green tinged sky

Dyed with the gaze of passers by


Explodes with laughter, going faster

Terrorising towns in fits of wonder

Scrap Dragon can’t be caged

Burning down till end of days.