Weekend Tasks

When Friday comes and you’re weary

Yet, face loads of chores that are dreary

Do not seek the easy way

As I discovered the other day

For I told Alexa to get it done

But “she” said “I don’t know that one.”

So, I guess it will be the same old way

That the tasks will get done some other day


Painting With Words

When painting a picture with your words

Life is your palette and all that you’ve heard

Random conversations, TV adverts

Ridiculous anecdotes, innuendos, and flirts

For the language of expression takes many forms

And a true artist will capture them, not just the norms

So, let the soundscape of your experience run free

And let it colour every poem and story


A Time to Pretend

When cavemen rode dinos

And cars fit in a briefcase

Be it the streets of Bedrock

Or someplace in space

Childhood was simpler

Our imagination could run free

Without our dreams – being seen as reality

Let kids be kids

Don’t sexualise

Let them pretend

Give them time to realise

They will go soon enough

All on their own

They don’t need us

To tell them they’re all grown


The Way Ahead

There are many ways of proceeding, and a few that almost call to me. They are either beautiful to the point of distraction, or mysterious and challenging. This I think is one of the best descriptions that I can give of the writer’s block I have recently been facing in my present book. There are two paths simultaneously calling to me. I therefore have made a number of false starts and retreats, then made small advances along the other road before abandoning that too.

This is an awkward juncture, as the story has a firm setting and structured beginning. I also has a decisive conclusion. But how will I get there? I have considered the grave sin of “separating the party” and having key characters explore the different paths. But each seems to lead to unfamiliar territory and untold risks.

I have decided to maintain each scribbled ebb and flow, and each advance and retreat. In the end I am sure the characters will know the best way to get to the finish. Once they get there, I am sure they will let me know and I can share it with you.



“This shop is so creepy,” Tim said.

“You’re just saying that to get out of shopping with me,” Jessica replied accusingly.

“No.  It’s the mannequins.  Why do they go so far as putting nipples on them, but no faces?  There’s something unnatural about it,” he explained.

“Hmm,” his wife said indignantly.  “I’ll tell you what is unnatural.  It’s unnatural that you’re obsessed with plastic statues’ breasts.”

It was then that he realised that those plastic bits were the last he’d be seeing for a while.



People, Talking, Gesturing, Conversation

“I don’t quite get what you are on about.”

“It’s really simple, we have been living in a Matrix-like alternative reality, and it is just now that we are emerging – ‘awakening’ to what is true.”

“So Covid was a good thing, then?”

“Well not ‘good,’ but useful. It has allowed us to question assumptions and rise above 250,000 years of conditioning to get a firm grasp on who we really are?”

“And who is that?”

“Hell if I know.”

The Navigator

Arizona, Hiking, Desert, Scenic, Dry, Outdoors, Scenery

“The map says the stream is right over this next hill,” Charlie announced.

“Shouldn’t we hear it by now?” Tammie replied.

“I’m sure we will soon,” Charlie assured her.

They then crested the hill and looked at the rocky stream bed.

“Still not hearing it,” she said scornfully.

“Look, there is still water there though, lets fill the canteens and then follow the channel to the river. I’m certain there will be plenty of water there.”

Tam knelt beside one of the shallow pools and filled her canteen and a plastic bottle. “This is the last time I am going to let you guide us,” she said coldly.

“I found us water, didn’t I?” he replied.

“Humph,” she muttered, and soon they were making their way down the creek bed to whatever lay ahead, leaving the flowing stream which was just over the NEXT hill behind them.