Steps – a poem

So many steps singly taken to bring

Us to this very moment, no longer

Living in the dark, shroom-like,

Conscious decisions made to slippery



Innocuous suggestions realised in

Mirthful humour, giggling rapture

Catches us unaware, although knew

We what lay ahead, or imagined

We did.


A form of progression to these things

Lies like coloured sand, unspoken of

With much wonder to yet behold, promises

In minor noises much louder when

We try even harder.


Sulphurous Flashbacks – a poem

Sulphurous flashbacks brought round

From sleep’s lack in familiar places,

Where it was once so sordid, now

Not a thing to be abhorred, nor

Disdained for the memory only lives,

The inclination and drive to open

Pandora’s Box superceded by more

Than form or social pressures can measure.


Timid Morality – a poem

​Long have I thought myself past

That timid and lying morality,

Self deluding and possessive

Of all futures and possible past.


The now shows that though I may be

Past such things, the owners are not,

Strains of prejudice making rules

For themselves, new ones for others.


“We are all one.” they say, loudly,

“Oh, but not those, they belong not.”;

With one hand all is well, beneath

The other lies an enduring hell.


Running Out – a musing



Today I write of a strange vitality, the harsh wonder of experience. I am running out of painkillers, in a manner I had not anticipated, and while on a family holiday.

Having misjudged my situation I now have 7 Tramadol remaining. Aching from various mental stresses the day before yesterday (yes, mental stuff becomes physically manifest) I attempted buying Cocodamol here in Portugal…but left with strong Ibuprofen instead. Turns out you need a prescription for Coco.

Now I am down to rations.

I had thought I was doing well. No Cocodamol for months now, days off the herbal painkiller Kratom, as well as reduced doses. I brought none of it with me this holiday. I still do not think doing so was a mistake but I did badly miscalculate my needs.

To try and remedy it I had an extra Prozac yesterday. I know, I know, it has longer term effects, but based on how much of the holiday is left I thought the extra Serotonin would help my many pains.

Wish me luck.


WASP – a holiday musing


Today I break with the usual programming to bring you something different. Instead of the usual poetry (or cheeky vape ting), today’s post is on something else.

On holiday in Portugal for the 2nd time with family, I have taken the opportunity to photograph the graffiti when I can. This graffiti is salient because I have not been able to figure or find out what it means.

No further explanation

(but feel free to tell me!!).

Enjoy the pictures.



Mint Condition – a poem

Hide, hide it all away, for expression

Is no more than the death of truth

And the nature of man; or so we have

Been told, moulded at ages younger

Than we care to think back to.


Be yourself at dire risk of being

Understood, your anger, wonder, hate,

All are subsumed by that horror hateful

Which seeks to make us into toy dolls

Fit for no more than being show

Items in appalling condition, wasted.