Dark Poetry – How Many Dead Bodies?

How Many Dead Bodies? is my adventure into dark poetry/satire, a reflection on the continuing waste of life across the globe.

How Many Dead Bodies Does It Take to Change a Light Bulb? – Dark Poetry

This is a joke. How many dead bodies does it take to 
change a lightbulb?

a trillion slain guerillas in the mid-end?
a million extinct orangutans in the rain forest?
a billion bony corpses in the desert?
a gazillion cut-down kids on the moon?
a zillion plastic-poisoned piranhas in the sea?
a trillion dismembered family members flung across battlefields?
a nonillion sacrificed soldiers marching on Mars?

Don't know the answer? Wait 'till I'll tell you.

None, 'cause dead bodies can't change lightbulbs.

Healing Poem – The Solfeggios – Guido’s Children

The Solfeggios – Guido’s Children is a healing poem, a celebration of the powerful Solfeggio sound frequencies that can reach beyond pain and comprehension.

The Solfeggios – Guido’s Children

One thousand years ago, Guido fell into Paul’s hymn honouring John roaring in the desert. His breath stretched expanding lungs, arms rounding down deep to raise up six children for cover. Weaving wind and water, birds and thunder, fairies and heartbeats, Guido knotted a blanket to fan mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers from hot and cold, to mend bones, to dry blood, glue cuts, and to bind enemies. Now, Guido’s quilt carpets every fibre, his children scaling mountains high and rivers deep.

Healing Poem – The Solfeggios – Guido’s Children

Spring Equinox Poems – Balance

Balance is one of many spring equinox poems, a reflection on the scarcity of true balance in the world, people, and societies.

Balance – Spring Equinox Poems

She knows the scales
and weights and volumes
of lead and feathers
of blood and water
of bread and gravel.

Her sister taught her
how to blunt shadows
and taper the light.

Like the blue moon,
she owns a house
craving windows,
a door to the east,
a door to the west,

conjuring flight,
sparse between
the tick and the tock
of the clock.

Poverty Poems – Bread, Light or Heat

Bread, Light or Heat is one of my poverty poems, a description of some of the hard choices people have to make when cash is in short supply.

Bread, Light or Heat – Poverty Poems

The fridge stinks of emptiness,
the stench fills the room
every time his forever hopeful kids
open it to see
just in case he'd have bought
some bread.

Last week, he chose light
over bread, homework is
important after all,
he reasoned
and stretched the spaghetti
from Monday morning
straight through to Sunday night.

In March, they can sit
and watch TV without
wearing woolly hats
and itchy scarves
and knitted socks /
perched in front of the
fire, lit from
branches they heap up
in the woods on Sundays.

He loves Monday mornings,
though he detests work
as much as they abhor school
for all the reasons you do
stale bread,
glaring lights,
and stuffy heat.

Brexit Poetry – Out to Lunch

And now for a bit of Brexit poetry seeing as there’s no end in sight and the world looks on as British politicians try to sort out the Brexit mess.

Out to Lunch

Bunch of grand chaps pledged to
eturn Britannia to whilom glory and
ndow her people with bling and swagger. They sought to
tract her from the traitorous union, but
n-House rhubarb thwarted their grand plan.
oo bad she now looks like she’s out to lunch.

Brexit Poetry

Equality Poem – Robin Hood, Where Are You?

Robin Hood, Where Are You? is an equality poem highlighting the global inequality crisis affecting billions of people. The wealth gap continues to grow.

Robin Hood, Where Are You?

Dear Robin

I know you’re dead a few hundred years, some say, you didn’t even exist, are but a fantasy figure made up for pure entertainment, but anyhow, I know better.

I feel compelled to write to you and urge you to come here at once. You see, we need your help right now. Where? I hear you ask. 

Let me put your mind at rest first. No, the Sheriff of Nottingham hasn’t returned to throw his weight around once more. But the trouble is, he’s got many successors who’ve taken on his ways. They live off the poor, are cruel and greedy, just like he was when you took matters into your own hands. Why can’t we do the same? I hear you ask.

Well, we’re not as brave and clever as you. Some have tried, more have failed. And now, most people live off crumbs and a handful of folks live the life of Reilly. If only you could get yourself down here on your best horse and do what you did all those years ago. 


So, please hurry, this is an emergency! I can assure you, you’d be a hero once more.

Yours truly.

Friar Tuck

PS: Feel free to bring Lady Marian for support
PPS: We need you in Australia, Africa, Europe, New Zeeland, Asia. the Americas, and Antartica, so you’ll be busy for a while!

Equality Poem – Robin Hood, Where are You?

Modern Sonnets – Snow White’s Sonnet

Traditional poetry forms have given way to a wave of free verse, so it can take a while to find modern sonnets. This is my attempt a writing one.

Snow White’s Sonnet

I'm not inclined to do your work today
would rather sip some wine and plan how I
could go outside, trick dwarfs and steal away
not toil and wash and clean and sing on high

but walk through woods alone amazed by bloom
would dance to tunes so sweet and talk to birds
on how the world with all its doom and gloom
still shines so bright in shades beyond my words

Not eat the apple Eve once dared to take
not lay in wait for prince to kiss and wed
but run and jump for joy that I could make
my way in thunder, hail and snow, not dead

but fierce and strong, stomp forth in boots
without a thought or care for knight or chutes.

Poem About the News – Didn’t Make the News Again Today

This is a poem about the news discussing the choice of stories and headlines, alongside thoughts on what constitutes news and what doesn’t as well as the click bait nature and unfathomable news item selection.

Didn’t Make the News Again Today

 Home flattened,
kids slaughtered
...didn't make the news again today.

Slaved for years,
bills left unpaid
....didn't make the news again today.

Flesh dwindled,
water infested
.....didn't make the news again today.

Stood up,
raised my voice
....didn't make the news again today.

Funny that.
I bet a little improvised explosive device 

Hope Poem – Perpetuum Mobile

Perpetuum Mobile is a hope poem, a reflection on making the impossible possible, on powers beyond human imagination and thought.

Perpetuum Mobile

Crisp drawings of
the Perpetuum Mobile,
scoffed, snubbed,
adulated, apotheosized
have the earth
break mould

and draw
the wheel's jointed arms and weighted hands
in, then
drop the freights
to capture
more limbs and stones


into relentless

On the table,
the Perpetuum Mobile
as drawn by Leonardo da Vinci
welds its work
to the earth's revolution.
and capers nonterminous motion
Hope Poem – Perpetuum Mobile