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Wrote a very serious poem about racism. Tore it up. Wrote another serious poem about racism. Tore it up. Wrote another and another. Tore them all up and made a bonfire of my piety in my wastebasket. ( Note to self: Never forget that there's a smoke alarm in my man cave). Once I'd cleared the smoke and explained to the rest of the household there was no real fire, I wrote some doggerel and threw in a few spanners for good measure. There, I thought, I feel so much better.

Yes, I've been lost in the flue for ten days, or so. Or as we call it these days, influenza. But there's been just as much Sooty and Sweep as ever,...

It’s a Rant……………… Could be a Rhyme……. Definitely <NOT> trying to be a Poem with the Poet Masters here….. That would be a poetic crime… Written...

The silent nomad, gently moved through life content to not speak even once. He did not utter a sound, and had grown to forget how his very own voice...

Episode 4 of 4. "The Resolution Brief".

10 years later..

Some call him lazy and his wife calls him a jerk. His wife is very angry because he will not work. He won't get a job even though he's an able-bodied...

Could this be the end?

It had been bitterly cold these last few days, but Eliot was warm inside the church. He was doing his practise for his spot at the morning mass...