and counting…

Late nights, early mornings

Slamming doors and muted screams

Nothing fair and everything oh so unreasonable

Sharp words and hormones rage and sweet little boys seem long lost

And then pushed away frustrated and confused

Fathers fail to find common ground

Until tearful calm returns


Wi-Fi Outage

Got teenagers?

Raging, doors slam and knotted stomachs stir

Another day another night another fight

As hormones rage and darkness falls

And once tender caress no longer soothes

There in the dark wet cheeks and heaving chest

All seems so lost and nothing causes smiles to spring

Until selected, renewed and connected

Heart slows, head clears and once more peace returns




After party

Not really sure wtf this is but its something I suppose.

He waits, each day repeated forever hoping

All pressed cotton and fathers aftershave

Crimson wrists match carnation’s hue

And wet cheeks like blood red roses blush

At mere thought yet thought alone can wrench

And heart in chest does twist and writhe

then shrivel scorned and turn to dark

until madness claims him for her own

And with malady and melody sweeps away to cold dark soil

And love young dream fades slowly to black until daybreak once more








sometimes I just start typing words and hope something even half sensible emerges…

A heady mix of dark and light she dances

like gossamer on the breeze and sugar on the tongue

she delights, and in her freedom beckons you to follow

sweet whispers and soft words engage

and head and heart and form then with electric thrill

and without thought of consequence enslaved

to worship and new supplicant is wilful born

and freely takes his place in writhing mass of flesh







One more day

Let’s try a little serious shall we…

Okay so I piss about a bit with my blog I realise. If my poems had a ‘Eeeeuuuwww button’ then I am pretty sure it would get pressed more than my likes. I was challenged by Roda – I think that’s what happened – to try a happy ending or two so for this week I will have a crack at a few more pleasant subjects.

At Days close he waits content

to say goodbye and drift to night

and in those moments years rolled back

warm smiles and joy and eyes shine bright

Her warm embrace and tender kiss

and babies cries and laughter sweet

when blankets laid across his knees

worn eyes do close and visions greet

First words, first steps, first dates first kiss

long days dark nights but then

he sees her face and hears her voice

and love’s restored again

And as he slips to dark and rest

a life well lived he sees

of family, love and heart and hearth

life passing like the breeze

And in that moment vivid, clear

old lips whisper and say

each day a treasure I received

farewell, on this last day

End of days #writephoto challenge

Of life and death

Maleban the Elder stands alone, the last of his kind, remnant of all that was but that is no more.  His people are all gone now, returned to dust, and the final fiery moments of this world are his alone to witness.

A slow ascent into a hungry sun is his fate, and as proud custodian of the memories of a once glorious people he stands and calls upon his ancestors, the long forgotten ways of his people and the gods of old.

Eyes closed and arms wide he embraces the end of all days as lifetimes past, present and future disappear and are lost to the universe forever.

Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent

Want something different?  THIS is different and THIS is way different.  This is …well you probably shound’t read THIS

What has gone before

The slow passage of time

My crack at a 75 word piece on the picture of that rock up there for Friday Fictioneers

Before you I watched and I waited.  Before trees and ice and flame I was alone and the world was silent and time passed without record.

I watched you crawl into existence with so much promise, and I witnessed fleetingly your true light and the beauty within.

But having everything was never enough for you, and you were consumed by your desires and the darkness that lurks in your hearts.

I do not miss you.

75 words!  Boom!

Photo courtest of , c.e. ayr

Cold Stone – An FFfAW Chalenge

If the cold stone steps could speak they would tell a tale of generations past; of family; of love; of loss and of time that slips by in the blink of an eye.  Worn by so many feet, endless journeys up and down making their way through life one step at a time. 

Sometimes skipped, hastily ran and often laboured they endure season after season as the world grew, changed shape, died and was renewed.

Children become adults and pass into nothing and they remain as the sun comes and goes – even more slowly – marking the passing of time and warming their slowly worn surface as it passes across the sky until again the laughter of childhood returns.

Time is unkind and cruel, passing so quickly for man but for those things more permanent it brings a sadness of things long lost and the hope of joy still to come. 

Photo courtesy of J.S. Brand