Scribbles Superficial

We live in times when graffiti’s rife

When even inking one’s own skin does not suffice

No surface blank can be left uncovered

When so-called artists even paint over each other

What is this obsession with leaving a visible mark?

Rather than for your great lasting achievements

Of which future generations will remark


Sheep Before The Shearer

No public outcry was heard.   It was not that the new policy was not without its flaws.  In fact, it was quite unfair.  It was just that the policies and official statements had been so demoralising and so regular, that the people had just learned to shrug them off and resign themselves to the fact that the government was going to do whatever it wanted.




It had long been my deeply held conviction

That certain things required restriction

But laissez-faire seems the thing today

Everyone doing stuff in their own way

Social mores and law and order too

Are things required of but a few

Politicians flaunt their heightened privilege

While modern armies burn and pillage

I hope that we might end these afflictions

And stop the excesses with some criminal convictions



The council had been convened in Rivendell. The incursions into Middle Earth started as a trickle, but now it was becoming of torrent. Beardless Dwarves, and unknown characters had begun to overrun even the peaceful Shire.

Elrond brought the meeting to order and explained the graveness of the situation. “We must send a fellowship out to explore how this has come about.”

“Yes, yes,” interrupted Gimli. “We must find where all this shite has come from!”

It was agreed the Gandalf would lead the party of enquirers into a darkness even greater that Mordor to seek the truth.

Months later and much battered by their trials, the fellowship returned and presented their findings. It was entitled: On the Origin of the Faeces or The Realm of the Dark Lord Bezos.



Drinks, Alcohol, Cocktails, Alcoholic

It really is peculiar

A very unnerving thing

To hear a lie so often

That it takes on a truthful ring

Whether from the lips of rulers

Or the “homework” tales of babes

Half-truths and exaggerations

Or downright fibbing claims

It really is unnerving

To be considered so very thick

That when lied to directly

They think the lie will stick


Prize Winner


Evie was called forward in the assembly and the principal announced that she was the winner of the essay contest. Many of her peers looked on jealously as she was handed the certificate and the £30 voucher.

“Evie,” Mrs. Baxter said. “Your essay was unique, and was a breath of fresh air for all of us judges. Many of your competitors seemed to follow the same line of argument, and there was a surprising similarity even in much of their wording. How did you manage to write something so original?”

“Well, I um, I made it a point to not use Wikipedia at all, and in fact, once I started following that rule, I decided to avoid using the internet at all.”

“But, how could you possibly have managed gathering all of that clever information without the web?” the principal asked in astonishment.

“Well, after school one day, I missed the bus. So I had to wait for my mum. She said to meet her by the side exit, so I went down a hall that doesn’t get used much and I found a really weird room that no one seemed to know about. It was all full of books and stuff, so I had a peek. Before I knew it my mum was ringing me, asking why I hadn’t come out yet. I told here I was reading an actual book. Soon the “Library” became my favourite place in the school, and no one ever bothered me there. I used the books to research my essay.”

“How novel,” Mrs. Baxter said. She then turned to the deputy head and whispered, “Did you know we still had a library?” Mr Turner just shrugged.


When ME is the Collective

Apocalypse, City, Ruins, Buildings

We say we’ve moved on

Beyond fairy tale and superstition.

Led by the empirical, our own minds,

And accompanied by selfish ambition

We have abandoned the divine,

Leading to society’s demolition.

When “I” become more than the rest of the whole

If followed by all – this has a terrible toll.

Society and culture are meant to be a collective

If we live just for ourselves – that must surely be defective.


State of Things

Social Distancing, Line, People

Price gouging

Raking it in

Vendors getting fat

While times are thin

Panic buying

Of things in supply

No one really knows

The reason why

We just have to have it

Must go with the flow

All those in the queues

Surely must be in the know