"time is of the essence"

We compete for every moment—

               ikkoku o arasō— 

as dawn spills gold across the plains,

each breath a bargain struck in morning’s hush.

We vie for each minute and each second—  

             ippun ichibyō o arasō— 

while shadows flee the sun’s fierce blaze,

hearts pounding in the space between ticks.

Today’s s...

Read and leave comments (1)

"her constellations" 

Her constellations are bite-sized galaxies of feeling,  

each cluster a starfield guiding fingertips  

across cool stone beneath the hush of night air.  

“Lantern in the fog” becomes Polaris—  

steady beacon anchoring a mind adrift  

amid the distant hum of restless streets.  

Swipe, scroll, tap—  

three morning prayers in digital chord,...

Read and leave comments (5)

Evening Benediction at the Tide

The tide returns in sculpted prayers

over broken shells,

etching covenant beneath gull-scarred skies.

I press my palm to driftwood—

a liturgy in grain, fibers carved by centuries

of salt and forgiveness.

Salt water heals old fractures in the stones,

and on their ancient skin I lay down my grief,

each wave a footnote of merc...

Read and leave comments (7)

There was a time
     when you used to confide in me
     shared the innermost stirring of your heart;
     when you used to feel safe in me,
     entrusted what others couldn't hear out loud.

There was a time
     when we were close enough,
     nourished a friendship pure and free;
     when nothing outside bothered,
     heard the fellowship of the soul.

There was a ti...

Read and leave comments (2)

letter from a quieter version of me  

for my love

love— some days i still hear it.

the beeping, the boots in the hallway,

the way someone said  

we almost lost him

without saying my name.

they tell me it was twenty-nine pints.

i think of that when i refill the kettle.

i know you watched every shadow

flicker behind my eyelids.

i saw it too. from ins...

Read and leave comments (2)

Morning mist drapes each blossom  
like a bride reluctant to wake.  
Petals fall in silent confession—  
memory’s hush in every drift.  

Roots hold secrets of laughter and tears,  
a debt of seasons owed to shadows.  
Soon, steel will bite bark and bloom  
and these ghosts will scatter on the wind.  




.

Read and leave comments (2)

Sunbeam Records

Some believe your soul leaves a mark—

not in big achievements or dramatic stories,

but in where you choose to slow down and rest.

The sunbeam doesn’t announce itself.

It just lands quietly on the exact spot of floor

that stays warm too long,

where the dust drifts like tiny galaxies.

Then the keepers come—quiet and furry.

She’s there fi...

Read and leave comments (2)

Academia Aetheris

(the celestial school of verse)

They came— not summoned, but stirred.

Poets born in the umbra of supernovae, 

dreaming in quatrains 

before they could form hands. 

Choristers of comet tails, 

scribes of auroras in decline.

Each carried a shimmer of that first interlude, 

the brief binding of Flame and Listening. 

Their lines bor...

Read and leave comments (6)

They say the yew grows where silence sleeps—

in churchyards, beneath watchful stone,

where no one dares confess what took root there.

Its branches don’t beg the sun, don’t bloom,

don’t rise in vivid praise— but bend,

as if listening to things not dared aloud.

At noon, the light is cruel. Too sharp for softness.

So we stand beneath the yew, where shade writes

...

Read and leave comments (0)

A raw and redemptive,
jagged lullaby wrapped
in grit and grace.

Confronting primal origins
of beauty, tracing how chaos,
trauma, and history's rough edges
are not just background noise,

but the very instruments
in life’s symphony.
Pain isn’t just a prelude to joy—
it’s part of the composition.

This poem, insistent:
what is beautiful isn’t
in spite of the brokenness,
but be...

Read and leave comments (3)

Thereupon a banquet spread 

delectable dishes arrayed— 

greens, meats, fruit, and wine: 

marine, fowl, farm, and vine.

Alongside me your visage bright, 

imbibing, ingesting, we sup; 

from selfsame platter dine— 

my heart yours, and yours mine.

The goblet glints in candle gleam, 

its rim still kissed with berry red; 

we toast not to the fleeting dream,...

Read and leave comments (1)

Something unseen lingers above, 

casting veils over the paths we tread. 

Each fleeting breath connects us —

to the floating skies beyond, 

to whispers weaving within.

Between beginnings and endings, 

the now unfolds, echoing softly. 

Each dawn opens like a wandering tide, 

carrying fragments of yesterdays, 

weaving stories anew, timeless yet transient.

Read and leave comments (2)

Oh, to remember such
unspoiled kinship with the divine,
where even the wind was a companion
and silence spoke in full sentences.

Perhaps this poem isn’t just
a backward glance but a gentle invitation—
to return, not in time, but in spirit,
to that meadow of soulfulness
where love was once our native tongue.

Some part of us still listens
to the rustling leaves, hoping
the gods h...

Read and leave comments (0)

Her laughter in the kitchen sounded like

it had learnt the language of eucalyptus.

Then, Miss Kay asked why clouds don’t fall.

I said something about warmth and altitude,

but thought of grace instead.

This morning I read from Ecclesiastes,

then wrote half a stanza about shadows falling inward.

The kettle hissed, I answered.

Not the poem— but the Day.

Read and leave comments (0)

i unravel
not like a ribbon but like rope— 
wet, splitting at the seams

you turned, smirking like it was a game 
like breaking me was just physics
so clean, so unmarked

you the one always slipping off the hook 
"poor you"—the story you sold while i sank
bare feet on loose earth 
always moving, never mine

i learned to float, lip-bitten 
quiet through the avalanche 
your lie...

Read and leave comments (1)

The screen yawns wide,

empty as the Nullarbor plain—

"no comments posted yet," it whispers,

a sign more accusatory than absent.

You may look, it says, but don’t touch.

Permission belongs to ghosts,

long gone or never given at all.

Kindness cracks its knuckles,

flicks a cigarette to the curb—

museum-bound, archived, unreachable.

What thoughts could fil...

Read and leave comments (4)

Echolalia After the Fall

Language tripped on its own tail—  
flung too far from the mouth,  
it landed in the surf  
beside a crab with syntax in its pincers.  

Drôle, she said,  
but no one laughed.  
Not even the emoji blinking  
in low battery sincerity.  

The sandwich was mostly grit,  
seasoned with spell-check and doubt.  
The witch bit in anyway—  
mouth full of preposit...

Read and leave comments (1)

"Still Bleeding"

They found him hunched in the steaming bath,
ink staining the surface like blood’s rehearsal,
his voice still echoing down stone corridors—
a voice not for song, but flint.
Even his pulse wrote pamphlets.

He died not once, but
in verses draped across salon walls,
in paintings that turned martyr into marble,
into myth—but he lived as a nerve unshut.

And now? We are ...

Read and leave comments (0)

Apologia in Free Verse (After Too Much Metre)

I meant to speak plainly. To let the thought go unbuttoned, 

leaned against a kitchen chair, talking about traffic 

or the way light hits the linoleum.

But then—I rhymed. 

By accident or reflex or loneliness.

It was you that made me do it— 

not out of guilt, but because the sentence curled 

toward music, an...

Read and leave comments (4)

Molière’s Chair 

He wore the mask before he knew the play, 
a carpet-seller’s son with ink-stained hands, 
who traded silks for satire, night for day, 
and walked from law into the laughing stands.

They threw him apples—baked, not sweet— 
when tragedy betrayed his earnest tongue. 
Yet still he bowed, and found in comic beat 
a sharper blade than any hero swung.

He wrote in ...

Read and leave comments (2)

He drew the world not as it is—

but as it might be travelled.

Lines stretched taut like tendons

across the muscle of oceans;

longitudes obedient,

latitudes arranged in tempered rows.

The poles swelled with false importance,

the equator shrank to a whisper.

Yet in distortion, there was clarity—

a map not of truth, but of purpose.

And isn’t that th...

Read and leave comments (3)

The walls were thick with will—

                               not strength, not steel.

We laid them down like pronouns in a grammar of fear,

fluent only in repetition. Stone by stone we spelled out:

Never again. And meant it.

But silence tunnels too.

A whisper breached where no guns aimed—

not headlong, but sidelong,

like memory forgetting its own edge.

Read and leave comments (7)

...to a writing friend, ajr, who is gradually slipping away on the river of dementia

These bridges you have thus built
and those you keep on building
are the ones we can always cross
from which pebbles we can toss
and watch their ripples downstream
crossing over into our once upon dream 

Read and leave comments (5)

Words collect like morning dew on leaves—
offered, absorbed, refracted—
a quiet exchange in the rhythms of being.

Voices scatter across a vast terrain
gently meeting with fierce exclamations,
each one feeding, each one fed.

Community thrives beneath unseen threads
binding both fragile and the bold,
roots deepening in shared soil.

Read and leave comments (0)

stars unravel
stitched upon
coronal leaves

silky riddles 
unspin cocoons
'mid thund'ry breeze

cradle of stardust
bottled moonbeams
riding solar flair

ink of paradox
unbind unspoken tales
coil springless clocks

Read and leave comments (0)

Unmoored, drifting— a face blurs 
against window reflections, is it mine? 
A stranger’s? No matter.

Streetlights flicker in shallow pools, 
mirror-puddles swallowing neon, while a palm tree bends— 
wind pressing, steel humming quiet.

Petals scatter, soft confetti 
caught between tram rails, dissolving— 
the last echoes of footsteps slipping away.

Stone rises, rigid symmetry— g...

Read and leave comments (4)

I stand at the edge of another Monday, 

boots crusted with dust from a paddock 

I never meant to cross. 

The sky doesn’t speak---it broods, 

like it’s waiting for me to say 

the thing I’ve swallowed for years.

There’s a fog settling across the plain. 

Not the cool kind that comforts the gullies,

 but the one that creeps in just before 

the sun decides whether i...

Read and leave comments (0)

They left the green land behind,

where the púca ran unseen

beneath hollowed branches,

where tricks stirred in the mist

and footsteps never quite found firm ground.

Across the restless waters they sailed,

heavy with exile, grasping

the promise of gold and breath,

chasing the mirage of quiet years,

somewhere the ghosts could not follow.

But the rivers w...

Read and leave comments (1)

Beneath the ash-grey skies of longing,

the earth breathes—not for you,

not for me, but for itself.

A pulse steady, undaunted by

the footsteps we leave behind.

You will see the shadows move,

and not ask why.

You will taste the salt of oceans past,

and still the waves will rise—

relentless, unforgiving, and free.

They bend, they whisper,

yes, they fa...

Read and leave comments (1)

Wander through the burrowed light, 
mud-packed walls breathing warmth, 
a kettle thrums—no rush, just the steady, 
unbroken rhythm of being.

Hands work the earth, kneading sun into soil, 
tucking seeds deep where roots raise memory.

Footsteps soften against moss, 
small strides, sure and deliberate, 
paths well-trodden yet never worn.

Bread breaks, laughter follows, 
cups ...

Read and leave comments (2)

The river speaks in hushed tones, its currents thick with secrets, folding into themselves— the weight of unspoken histories dredged along the silt.

I do not step in. The water remembers too much.

The city breathes metal and wire, a maze built on absence, corridors wound so tightly that voices lose their way, disappearing before they reach the ear that listens.

Read and leave comments (1)

They came for the feast of phrases, 

gathered ‘round the wordless flame. 

Empty cups clinked, unsated, 

as the poet shrugged—his muse unspoken. 

“There’s no story here,” he muttered, 

his mind a drought-struck desert. 

And so they sat, grasping shadows, 

a poem promised but never served.

Read and leave comments (5)

Shame wears a cloak of invisibility,
a shroud that hides the true self.
It speaks in hushed tones, a critic's voice,

reminding of flaws, of perceived failures.
It warps the mirror's reflection,
distorting the image to fit its narrative.

But as we peel back its layers,
revealing the truth beneath,
we see the scars, the wounds, the humanity,

and find the courage to step into the ...

Read and leave comments (0)

Ages passed, still reppin' strong, 

 life wrote our script, we played along.

 Throwback laughs? Still in the air, 

 like vids we’d binge- -everywhere.

We were wild, riskin’ all, 

 hoppin’ fences, takin’ calls. 

 Now we glow, still got the dream, 

 past stays fresh, know what I mean?

Years slid by, like feeds we scroll, 

 memories saved, heart on patrol. 

Read and leave comments (0)

The sheets loosen,
brittle with yesterday’s sweat,
my limbs heavy
with the unremembered struggle

of another dream slipping into daylight.

The tide surges again— not the sea,
but the pull of routine, a weight
pressing against the ribs.
The road throbs under hurried feet,
a chorus of engines swallowing dawn’s breath.
We rise, we move, we forget
what it was we were chasing.

Ben...

Read and leave comments (4)

The quill of a forgotten moment, 
a signature of time upon the sky, 
languid white clouds drifting by, 
spurs a sharp pain that wouldn't go, 
strikes paper filled with imprints, 
ink staining along a cracked soul.

The hand moves in quiet rebellion, 
scraping against the silence left behind, 
words spilling like embers from a fire 
long thought extinguished but still breathing, 
its w...

Read and leave comments (4)

as botanical tendrils stretch skyward
toward slivered rays of speckled sunlight
a longing for the simplicity of an all but
forgotten yesterday, tucked within
a breastplate that advances forward
today is all that is left, salve of former
melodies, always incongruous against
dissipating tomorrows, here and now
a flight of cranes in blinding light

Read and leave comments (2)

Many, many decades later,

time had etched its tales upon our skin.

The echoes of laughter from childhood

days still stirred like whispers in the wind.

Once, we were reckless, dreaming bold,

jumping fences we weren’t meant to cross.

Now, wiser yet no less hopeful,

we trace our past with tender gloss.

The distance stretched, a quiet river,

years rolled by like dr...

Read and leave comments (0)

Many, many decades later, 

 Subtrahend— —the thief of 

time—had stolen years, 

whittling away youth 

with quiet precision, 

leaving only memories as souvenirs.

Minuend, proud and steadfast, 

 stood firm against life’s relent-

less subtractions, holding onto 

         laughter, 

unyielding, even as the seasons 

adjusted the equation.

Difference, a ...

Read and leave comments (4)

I will not let the weight

of old winds bend

your wings any longer.

You will soar, not for escape,

but for discovery.

We will carve the sky

into new stories,

where no shadow lingers,

and no voice drags you back.

Your flight is not borrowed—

it belongs to you. So,

take-off in fresh winds’ lift.

Read and leave comments (1)

Kessingland
sits fog-cloaked
across the channel
from Holland.

At Zandvoort dunes
wind bites bone
ruddies cheeks raw.
Lager tins and crisps,
downed waiting—
for the flat to fill again
with stories, laughter.

Night nears.
A pudgy figure
emerges
from distant reeds.
We bow in greeting.

Before the muse returns,
conversation starts.
Always this way:
Propositioned.
Gaslighted in...

Read and leave comments (3)

Am I not your cup of tea?
I may not be
your cup of tea
but I am your
bottle of rum --
most definitely...
so ease up that grip:
Stop strangling my neck.

Let My liquid conflagration
scorch your lying condescension
again and again and again.... without fail.

If you but remember to be true
to what lurks deep within you
I will assail your doubts
And numb their fight,
Send insa...

Read and leave comments (7)

A soul refrains from distant quests,

Throne, temple, summit—all forsaken.

The answer dwells, soft-spoken, near,

Its whispers carried on dawn’s breath.

Kindness becomes as oil of lamps,

A quiet deed ignites warm glow.

Within the dark, love forms a hymn,

Illuminating hearts, unseen.

Do not journey far,

The warmth you seek

is folded close,

Residing de...

Read and leave comments (5)

Velveteen Rabbit:
left forgotten on the floor,
overlooked, shy, sawdust-made,
snubbed by the grand and mechanical,
a world of prideful toys,
and absent understanding.

Timothy, the wooden lion,
boasts of his noble ties,
the painted boat speaks
in the language of rigging.
Yet Rabbit finds no place,
nor kinship in hollow superiority.

Only Skin Horse, aged,
fur rubbed bare and stori...

Read and leave comments (2)

In quiet moments, whispers softly flow, 
As shadows dance beneath the silver moon.  
The world awakens, cradled in its glow.  

With every heartbeat, time begins to slow, 
Memories linger like a haunting tune.  
In quiet moments, whispers softly flow.  

The breeze carries secrets, sweet and low, 
A symphony of night, a soft cocoon.  
The world awakens, cradled in its glow.  

Each s...

Read and leave comments (0)

In the warmth of a sunlit day, 
We walk through the whispers of time, 
With hearts that beat in sync, 
And eyes that hold a universe of dreams.  

Each moment, a fragile breath, 
Filling the air with hopes and fears, 
We find beauty in the shadows, 
And comfort in silence’s soft embrace.  

Life is a dance of love and loss, 
Where every tear tells a story, 
And laughter mingles with ...

Read and leave comments (0)

History does not pause for breath,

it moves like morning,

inevitable yet unnoticed.

We carve decisions into it,

rough edges and second guesses,

but no moment stands untouched by the past.

Some call for restoration—

others dismantle, brick by brick,

rebuilding from what remains.

The voices collide,

wary of each retort.

Read and leave comments (2)

They tell us to hold steady,
keep the ground firm,
but the ground itself shifts—
silent adjustments beneath
the weight of old decisions.

Change rolls in like the tide,
deliberate, insistent;
some brace against the swell, while
others dive into its forward pull.

Neither stillness nor
movement alone can hold us—
we are in the in-between,
where each choice sends
ripples across...

Read and leave comments (0)

The street moves beneath us,

shifting without command,

we say we walk freely,

but the road has already been carved.

Someone chose its shape

long before our steps left their weight.

A voice rises, measured, cautious,

another shouts before listening—

the argument swells, ripples outward,

each side gripping their claim

like dry earth clinging to rain.

W...

Read and leave comments (2)

Secrets remain shrouded, unspoken,

yet I see them seep

into the spaces between breaths.

Truth, as it stands,

refuses the grasp of words—

it thrives in the moments

we dare not recount.

The echo of vanity

envelops everything I once chased,

leaving me at odds

with the reflection staring back.

Comfort is fleeting, or perhaps,

it never truly existed for m...

Read and leave comments (3)

Secrets are secret
Truth cannot expound
Everything is vanity
No comfort to be found

Truth is relative
or so it is, they say
Life for us is short
no time to dry the hay

What Truth will illumine
Lies would then conceal
with ebony tusks uncover
wounds that would not heal
 

Read and leave comments (3)

O Dionysus, breaker of chains,  
I sing not for the meek, the tamed, the gelded—  
But for the wolves who howl against the night,  
Who tear the velvet lies from rotting thrones!  

The poets now are eunuchs, lisping hymns  
To hollow gods of equity and dust—  
But we, the few, drink deep the blood-red wine,  
And laugh as cowards beg for kinder chains! 

Read and leave comments (2)

they lie there-

brave, frail,

the same.

hands, cold,

pretend to hold.

no saviour.

only the knife.

the gasp.

(you think you feel?

you think you live?

steal.

join.

prize.)

priest waits,

blade bright,

arms wide.

rest now.

Read and leave comments (0)

They call us mad, they call us cursed,  
For we will not bow to their painted gods—  
Their temples reek of incense and decay,  
Their priests chant empty words to dying fires.  

But we—we keep the old flame alive,  
The wild song, the untamed heart!  
Let them rot in their gilded cages,  
While we ride the storm, unchained!

Read and leave comments (2)

The lake breathes in and out— 
an ancient rhythm, unseen, 
hidden beneath mirrored stillness.

Wind whispers across its glassy skin, 
pressing, coaxing, shaping the waves. 
The basin awakens; 
water slides forward, recoils, 
a pulse against the boundaries of earth.

No storm, no flood— 
just the restless motion, 
the silent pull of tides within 
the heart of this enclosed world.

...

Read and leave comments (2)

Slabs of stone

Greet the morning sun

Or is it the Sun

That warms their cold

Thawing the shiver

Of their last moments

Bringing light to that tunnel

only to dim again at dusk-

So let’s keep the torch lit

Lest We Forget 

Read and leave comments (0)

Once—words spilled like rivers,

ink coursing through valleys of paper,

their pencil etching trails in the grain,

each mark a rippling of thought.

Night stretched long,

lamp-light flickered like kindling.

But the mind burned— a wildfire of ideas,

embers pressed into pages,

smoke rising in the form of verse.

Then came the hum of glass screens,

words tra...

Read and leave comments (0)

🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻
Could vaulted vase

contain collected tears,

echoing- -with sighs,

now solidly trapped

within its chamber

where this bloom

⚱️tears away ⚱️

defying gravity

and yesterday?
➖➖➖➖➖➖

Read and leave comments (0)

When a poet takes up arms
their quill is orphaned quick
though the pen is mightier
the sword some bards will pick

however just the cause may be
forsake their weapon true
to lose what makes them free
sad the day when all is through

Read and leave comments (4)

As a projectile 
on its trajectory
the very kernel 
of this heart’s history

unfurls and beckons 
to those who’d care
allows for both sides, 
their minds declare

each line, each verse, 
each accentuated pause
all bring together- - joint longing:
their inimitable cause

Read and leave comments (2)

A Miscreant Yearns

A soul’s cry, released in words— chosen, picked, woven in quiet longing.

And there, in articulation, beauty finds its form...

The soul, unbound, bridges a gap, touching both heart and mind.

Read and leave comments (7)

🪴 
hapless indulgences
animated silences
            quiver
🪴 
hankered imagination
ambiguous synapses
quibble            
🪴 
each way you turn
each thought you churn
new lessons learn
🪴 
potted flower plants
line your driveway
mind you don't crush them
🪴 




 

© Frederick Kesner      

Read and leave comments (2)

We are wise not to meddle
with the words of yon Muse,
allowing them to touch us--

avowed by torchlit trysts;

each thought cradled in nettles'
elegiac vine rows muse
such fearsome elegance behold!

Read and leave comments (1)

Tendril wafted dunes
of barren sands waffle,
swirl across mile
upon mile in every direction-
your face appears a horizon away,
there is little comfort found
in accompanying echoes.

Drifting sticks
wail in the pitched wind,
stretched on distant recollection-
stylus of the scribe named Regret;
each flurrying breeze
turns a new page,
taking with it freshly shed tears.

Foetid dropp...

Read and leave comments (2)

Coal-bright heat
pulsates a primal beat,
this light burns white
in the squalid night.

The windswept fury
in a drunken flurry,
toppled kerosene lamp
leaves the table damp.

Morning slips in sly,
waking the bleary eye;
pollen grain breezes
peddles raucous sneezes.

Read and leave comments (0)

Drenched in heavy morning rain, 
like a glacier exhaling into the sea, 
I sit—still, marrow-shaken— 
weighed down by endless tests.

I seek the scoffer’s sympathy. 
My litanies ripple, not through a broken bell, 
but in a warped chime—its notes splinter, 
scattering my pleas into hollow air.

No restaurant on High Street offers solace. 
Then, suddenly—sanity finds me: 
a hand, warm a...

Read and leave comments (0)

Hair in the wind
Brown in the sun
Midday-born light—
Silken strands of crested corn.

Jack was nimble
he was quick
but he's not taking that candlestick.
All the queen's horses
and all the queen's men
run their own courses,
then run them again.

Sparks light the sky
a brilliant welder's flash
a jewel in disguise
a jouster's winning prize;
and yet, a clockwork dandelion
sings sof...

Read and leave comments (2)

long, top-down drives
even shirtless-tans
sweet strawberry-kisses and
glorious watermelon stains

laughter lifting through the trees
glimpses of sun-blest promises
sugar-coated whispers
catching in the breeze

fruit bowls, waterholes
and refreshing icy poles
interlacing fingers share
starry nights and lazy days

Read and leave comments (0)

I love the wee and trippy hours of an
after-midnight when that glass slipper
lays glistering aloof, in soft moonlight
while weary dreamers poise inked quills

to carve their thoughts onto pale parchment
from a woozy head -- too early in the day
to be about one's inescapable routines
too late of a night to do all else but swoon.

This is the cherished witching-hour in a life
whe...

Read and leave comments (2)

if we stretch-out rumpled sheets

sunlit opalescent shades shape

there on an open square, each step

without a care, through a wan smile

thundrin' pain unrolls, with each flash

a stumblin' stain recedes

                 then moonlight polishes

    over each bump and every scrape

as if struck-out in utter defeat

Read and leave comments (0)

In the culture of poetry,

we idolize the poet,

not the poem.

Rimbaud's rebellion,

Ginsberg's wildness,

Li Po's intoxicated moon.

Literary cliques’ murmuring,

gossip of livewires,

pockets and politics,

words lie dormant.

Barthes challenges the norm,

text, free of context,

interpretations, fluid, and boundless.

Critique ensnared in cl...

Read and leave comments (6)

heartbeat



Poetry: my heart's beat,
A canvas of thoughts, experience’s feet,
In lines and stanzas, now laid bare,
Our emotion’s theatre,  sojourner’s fare.

From this vast expanse thoughts gleam,
The human condition its recurring theme,
Observe, discern, and then portray,
In scribbles, the essence of each day.

Tread lightly here, among my art,
For each piece, a b...

Read and leave comments (2)

Each tick of the clock
propels me forward


Memories play catch
dappling light from shadows
calling me away again


with every breath, I grasp


gasping at brilliant flashes
The years may be slipping
but I've forged past


that icy stream, its ripples
drive me onward still

 

©  Now, Frederick Kesner      

Read and leave comments (0)

Pip stands at the world's edge,
dreams vast as the sea.
A journey wrapped in every pledge,
discovering who he’s yet to be.

The past guides, not binds,
a compass in his hand.
Each step unveils new paths,
an uncharted land.

In every twist, a story speaks,
a future bright with possibilities.
Pip's journey continues,
each moment a squeak of hope.


 

Read and leave comments (0)

Let’s resign from Evolution
fully aware we’re barely aware;

Time’s a-wasting. With Humanity
barely brained to conjure a world
in which people are whole and equal;
mirth bound, and shackled, unrespected,

rarely eloquent beyond objections
amongst billions of biorbital visages,
seeking, queuing and devouring,
riding-cropped delivering oppressors 
recharging each new generation, each

Read and leave comments (0)

In the city, the cat walks its first life,

a dupe wandering through alleyways,

seeking warmth and food from strangers.

One night, it follows the scent of fish,

only to find itself locked in a cold cellar,

a victim of its own curiosity.

In its second life, it becomes the scapegoat,

taking the blame for spilled milk and broken vases,

while others watch from the sha...

Read and leave comments (4)

At Antwerp's port, where ships dissolve

into the horizon's mist, cultures blend

like brushstrokes on a canvas. I stand 
at the water's edge, feeling the heartbeat

of a city alive with ceaseless motion.

The cathedral's spire pierces the sky,

a beacon of faith, tenacity, and aspiration.

Its shadow reaches into my thoughts,

reminding me that dreams endure

like sto...

Read and leave comments (6)

In the quiet of the early morning,

I find myself staring at the empty space beside me.

The absence whispers, but I turn away,

my mind constructing walls of disbelief.

The world continues in a haze, each face

-a blur, every word a distant echo.

I tell myself this isn’t real, just a nightmare,

that you'll walk through the door any moment now.

Memori...

Read and leave comments (4)

In the shadows of our broken selves, 

Pieces of you linger, unable to absolve. 

A mosaic of memories etched in time, 

Yet surely will fade when we depart.

Each shard holds a story of pain, 

Locked in the crevices of our hearts. 

These remnants cannot forgive, 

And they too will vanish into the void.

When we are no longer here, 

The ripples of our past di...

Read and leave comments (0)

Behind this digital oracle,  
human hands guide the pulse of code.  
Not abstract threads, but paths—  
deliberate, weighted, alive with consequence.  

Zara, a young coder, sits alone—  
the quiet hum of her monitor fills the air.  
Numbers flicker across her screen;  
metrics and models form the foundation  
of an algorithm to decide loan approvals.  

Her coffee cools on the d...

Read and leave comments (2)

In the sprawling digital landscape,  
content creators carve their paths—  
voices ripple through screens,  
thoughts reshaped with every post.  

I remember one aspiring creator,  
a novice on the online stage,  
her work vibrant, tender, raw.  

She shared life as she lived it,  
authentic, unfiltered, free.  
Day by day, post by post,  
she forged a bond built on trust.  

Th...

Read and leave comments (2)

sunrise unveiled: a promise of treasure

demure as petals enjoining midday

grey clouds thin in billowy summer breeze

freezes a moment before this day consumes 

sunset reveals firefly melodies

meandering starlit rivers flow;

flowered evening fragrances wafting

welcomes a momentous nocturne 

Read and leave comments (0)

naught save the peddlers of art

where entertainment’s a la carte

and the menu card’s kind a faulty

yet here we’re reasonably comfy

so show us the justice of poetry

lost in the valley of minutes and years

it’s audience so glad to have been found

consumers shall ever-consume and

restlessness gaze at sighs of those at ease

the hand that wipes away all fears

nev...

Read and leave comments (4)

We seek to find in verses plain
an essence clear for us to gain
for words can twist and likewise blind
but Truth remains in verse refined.

In a wooded forest of ornate lines
a tree of truth whose roots entwine
in simple verse its meaning shines
clear and bright like sparkling wine..

With each word chosen and crafted right
a poet’s quest to bring truth to light
not through th...

Read and leave comments (4)

Tis but me spiked-up hair, y’seen, 
Doused with a lot o’spray on green! 
“Where did you get that hat!?” they say, 
Folks grind on me each passing day.

“Keep it off, tis not funny!” they cry— 
Sorry, but it’s staying on, oh my! 
Tis the hat my father never wore, 
On St. Paddy’s day, you'd swore.

I haven’t me a hat, let alone respect; 
So I’ll bug off with me head erect. 
And just...

Read and leave comments (1)

Whale breaches still waters

spraying mist into the twilight. 

Oil seeps through grill’s crevices 

onto bright glowing briquettes, as 

Beef sizzles to unfolding drama, 

surrounded by awe and wonder;

Hooked by the vast expanse 

of the Outback and the Sea.

Read and leave comments (2)

In the heart of the forest, life thrives in abundance,
trees stretch towards the sky, their canopies a verdant tapestry.
The air is thick with the scent of earth and foliage,
each breath a communion with nature's essence.

Animals move through the undergrowth, unseen yet present,
a symphony of life in constant motion.
Birds call from the branches, their songs a chorus of joy,
a celebrati...

Read and leave comments (6)

I am your boarding pass, 

A gateway to endless horizons. 

In my codes and numbers, 

Your journey awaits—charted and clear.

I am the key, 

Sliding you past barriers to boundless discovery. 

Through me, knowledge becomes motion, 

And the infinite unravels before you.

Grip me tight, for I lead the way. 

I am your personalised ticket to ride: 

A tool, a g...

Read and leave comments (0)

a queen of not so long ago
said to a queen of yesterday 
move aside, you're in my way
to which she swished her train
the other stood as frozen rain
and neither did a foothold gain

Read and leave comments (0)

     The essence of what was shared          

emitting from its aromatic brew…

    in spaces we once knew, together

no lunar phase could eclipse 

this regnant cue

is déjà vu.

Read and leave comments (4)

From the rugged shores of Penzance, 

a figure emerges, cloaked in the salt-spray. 

A privateer, pockets jingling with spoils, 

his presence a mix of legend and enigma.

Boots press onto cobblestone streets, 

each step a promise of untold stories. 

From his coat, treasures spill forth, 

gifts from distant shores, tokens of daring.

A compass, once guiding acro...

Read and leave comments (2)

sat down to fingernail drum rolls
staring blandly at desk's habitat
paperclips give chase at loosened
leaves blown by climate control
sporadic demi-flight, staggering
across a well-appointed bedroom

Read and leave comments (0)

Scattered like stars

thoughts glimmer:

constellations of ideas

mosaics of the mind’s workings. 

Words twist and turn

a labyrinth of meaning

each line reflects

each stanza holds a riddle

Neon lights and ancient shadows

merge in a collision of epochs

their spirit breathes through the chaos, 

a tapestry woven from tradition and innovation. 

A ...

Read and leave comments (0)

By the cool, clear waters of the billabong,

where the willows dip their branches low,

we sit in quiet reflection,

listening to the symphony of nature.

The cicadas hum a relentless tune,

a chorus of life in the heat of day,

while dragonflies dance on the surface,

their wings catching the light.

In the shade of a eucalypt,

we find respite from the sun,

a mome...

Read and leave comments (3)

Body betrays while caught in a tempest

The mundane morphs in peculiar ways

A silent storm stirring within you brews

With each surge, it claims a piece of you.

The office now a swaying deck

Unsteady ground, a wretched mess

Fingers clutch with fierce might

Against this inner sea’s harsh battle.

Eyes search for anchors in the gloom

Against the tides, t...

Read and leave comments (0)

And then there is ‘bear pottery’ 
farming salmon adjacent to a bear sanctuary:

while waiting for spawning season 
as the ice begins to melt, 
those that have unhibernated 
are whiling the time away 
at the potter’s wheel….

Read and leave comments (3)

The streets pulse with the rhythm of change, 
voices rising in a chorus of hope. 
Each shout, a call for justice, each step, 
a march toward a better world.

We stand together, united in purpose, 
our hearts beating as one. 
In the glow of unity, we find our power, 
a collective force that cannot be silenced.

The world watches, and we persist, 
demanding a future where all are seen, 
...

Read and leave comments (2)

naught save the peddlers of art

where entertainment’s a la carte

and the menu card’s kind a faulty

yet here we’re reasonably comfy

so show us the justice of poetry

lost in the valley of minutes and years

it’s audience so glad to have been found

consumers shall ever-consume and

restlessness gaze at sighs of those at ease

the hand that wipes away all ...

Read and leave comments (0)

non-existent metaphors glide past

this momentarily lucid blindspot

where Snuffalopagus intimates

a sauntering, “Hiyah, Bird!”

Read and leave comments (2)

Three dots dancing, blinking bright, 
Like marquee lights in the dark of night. 
A rhythm timed in silence creeps, 
Promises held, secrets to keep.

Each pulse a breath, a hope replete, 
In moments paused, our souls meet. 
Thread of words, fragile yet strong, 
Keeps us close, like we belong.

In those dots, life's spark revived, 
Without their glow, we feel deprived. 
So wait, heartb...

Read and leave comments (0)