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A Poem a Day, Day 156: Something Changed.

#steppingstonescribblers #prompt #somethingchanged #vss365 #poetry #poem #poetrycommunity #blueskypoetry
A rainy day in Rio, from the back seat of a drenched cab. Something Changed In the air A heaviness that wasn’t there Before Clouds mushroomed up and spread Thunder rumbled in A bull in a china shop Then the rain In sheets and stair-rods Made the road a river And as quick as it started Something changed again and It was over.
June 6, 2025 at 8:56 PM
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A Poem a Day, day 38: lnterest. Bring the first prompt for tonight’s #steppingstonescribblers writing workshop.
#poem #poetry #tanka #blueskypoetry #kurleybobspoetrycorner
Two cocktails in a bar, bluelit. Interest He could tell the date Was going badly when she Turned to him and said: ‘You’re the difference between Interested and interesting.‘
February 7, 2025 at 8:34 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 115: Moody (1). Being the first poem inspired by the #steppingstonescribblers prompt ‘moody’.

#poem #poetry #haiku #senryu #poetrycommunity
#blueskypoetry
A photograph of a stormy sky over the Sheffield skyline in the late 2000s. Moody (1) When it’s looking black Over Bill’s mother’s And you’re Bill’s mother
April 25, 2025 at 8:33 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 150: Broken. Bit late, soz.

#poetry #poem #tanka #steppingstonescribblers #poetrycommunity #blueskypoetry
A close-up of a formerly broken candle holder, repaired in the Japanese style of kintsugi, highlighting the gold glue in the cracked part. Broken They were kintsugi Broken, but repaired with gold Shards stuck back in place Stories revealed in the cracks Celebrated, not hidden
June 1, 2025 at 7:07 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 102: Superwoman. Second prompt for #steppingstonescribblers

#poem #poetry #tanka #haiku #poetrycommunity
#blueskypoetry
A photo of the sky and the earth, from a passenger jet. Not sure which country we’re over at the time. Possibly Spain. Superwoman Look! Superwoman! Crashing through the glass ceiling! Bashing the bigots! Smashing sexists with one blow! (A bloke wrote this. Obvious.)
April 12, 2025 at 11:31 PM
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A Poem a Day, day 24: Monstrous Butterfly.

#poetry #poem #steppingstonescribblers
#kurleybobspoetrycorner
#rhyme #stormeowyn
Background pic of a beautiful monarch butterfly over which is superimposed tonight’s poem: Monstrous Butterfly What sort of monstrous butterfly Beat its wings in Baltimore To cause chaos in County Kildare? Thunder rattling window frames in Fermanagh Hail battering cars in Cork And shingles in Shannon rising in a Mexican wave Flinging trees like matches in Montrose Glasgow garage roofs spinning off like frisbees Garden trampolines bouncing from Yard to yard to Scotrail railway line Cars pirouette, windsocks tumesce And somewhere in East Kilbride The storm, like a vengeful spouse Takes half the house
January 24, 2025 at 8:47 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 164: Inspired by a Quote. Last night’s prompt for #steppingstonescribblers

#poetry #vss365 #tanka #haiku #senryu #poetryofbluesky #poetrycommunity
The sky over our village a couple of days ago. The quote was ‘Everything you want is on the other side of fear’, which is attributed to either George Addair or Jack Canfield. Inspired by a Quote He pole-vaults over An angry pit of serpents To rescue his love Everything he wanted is On the other side of fear
June 14, 2025 at 10:01 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 94: Tariff. Being one of the prompts I suggested for tonight’s Stepping Stone Scribblers workshop.

#poetry #steppingstonescribblers
#poetscommunity #charon
#blueskypoetry
A picture of the River Nabão, Tomar, fringed by trees and bushes on either bank. Tariff The situation: If the ferryman ain’t paid You are doomed to roam The shores of the River Styx A century before you cross
April 4, 2025 at 8:46 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 178: Behaviour. I’ve been attending the #steppingstonescribblers online writing workshop since April 2020. This was last night’s prompt. Thanks to Kate Hull Rodgers for reawakening my love of writing.

#poems #lovewriting #keepwriting #poetrycommunity #poemsofbluesky
A beautiful high clouded, light blue sky over Portugal. Behaviour Human behaviour Becoming more confusing The older I get
June 28, 2025 at 10:32 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 45: The Swamp. Being the first prompt for tonight’s Stepping Stone Scribblers workshop.

#poetry #poem #freeverse #steppingstonescribblers
#blueskypoetry #kurleybobspoetrycorner
The muddy, swampy shore of a lake at Colemere, Shropshire, England. The Swamp They say the swamp is impassable Full of treacherous sucking pits And paths that peter away to nothing And inviting stepping stones That sink into slime and ooze Once you’re in, you’ll never get out They say the swamp is full of monsters There are creatures that make weird noises There are things with teeth and things with claws And ha’ants that follow, and watch, and wait And disappear, leaving nothing but bubbles And once you sink, you’ll never get out In the town, they talk about draining the swamp Paving it over and building an estate With a shopping arcade and a supermarket But if they do, where will the monsters go? Maybe they’ll move into the houses and shops And wait for fresh meat to arrive. I’m
February 14, 2025 at 10:55 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 122: Not There. I gave #steppingstonescribblers a picture prompt tonight - it was the picture backing tonight’s poem.

#poem #poetry #tanka #haiku #senryu #pictureprompt #poetrycommunity #blueskypoetry
A picture of a rural road on a foggy night. Not There ‘The house should be here,’ She said, the map upside down. ‘It was yesterday.’ ‘Are you sure this is the road?’ He asked, and she suggested: ‘Let’s knock on a door. We could ask for directions.’ ‘There’s no door for miles,’ He said. ‘Face it - we’re lost.’ ‘We’re not lost - we’re just misplaced.’ The fog closed round them The car engine coughed and died Then all was silence.
May 2, 2025 at 7:48 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 101: Murder of the Tango Man. Being one of the prompts for tonight’s #steppingstonescribblers

#poetry #poem #youknowwhenyouvebeentangoed #poetrycommunity
#blueskypoetry
A close-up picture of a glass of some sort of orange fizzy drink, somewhat out of focus. Murder of the Tango Man She was worried about her hair Wished she’d showered and used her Wash ‘n’ Go Too late to be concerned about such niceties Now it was all about how the plan goes She felt the spotlight was on her at the bar As the band played fandango She fancied a Bacardi Breezer And opted for the mango She approached him with a bottle in one hand And the other round the handle of her stiletto She was ready to exact bloody revenge On her duplicitous dance instructor Who clearly thought it took more than Two to tango.
April 11, 2025 at 8:42 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 129: The Master. Being one of the prompts for tonight’s #steppingstonescribblers workshop.

#poetry #poem #freeverse
#poetrycommunity #blueskypoetry
Close-up of the bark of a tree in the Madeira Botanical Gardens, Funchal. The Master He’s the unmaker, the disorganiser It all falls apart around him Like Buster Keaton’s collapsing house When he’s confronted, he couldn’t be nicer He’s the malinfluencer, the alienator If it all went awry You can guarantee he’s At the bottom of it, grinning If everyone else is losing You can guarantee he’s winning But he’ll be facepalming at the back Bemoaning his luck And he won’t give a hand To those drowning who followed him Into the deep water Someone will find him out sooner or later He’s the original unreliable narrator When it comes to intentionally screwing up He’s the master
May 9, 2025 at 8:59 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 135: The Farm.

#steppingstonescribblers #poem #poetry #thefarm #poetrycommunity #blueskypoetry
Unknown farm in the UK somewhere. The Farm Down on Forty Acre Farm There’s something growing In the back field Where they dumped all that stuff From the old chemical works And I don’t want to cause alarm Ordinarily I’d say If it looks like a turnip Grows roots like a turnip Smells like a turnip then - Well you know how this ends But whatever it is I saw growing in the back field At Forty Acre Farm I tell you this It might look like a turnip But it’s definitely not a turnip If you look away And do a double-take I swear It… moves The cows won’t go In the back field Behind Forty Acre Farm Neither will the goats Not since the rooster disappeared And that turnip That’s not a turnip Just gets bigger and bigger Surrounded by Red rooster feathers
May 16, 2025 at 9:05 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 185: Independence. Which was one of the prompts I suggested for last night's #steppingstonescribblers
writing workshop.

#poem #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetsofbluesky #shortnarrative #writers #poets
Independence It’s a matter of pride Of positive self-image It cannot be denied That once you get to a certain age To be able to stand on your own two feet The idea is pretty neat But the reality is not so pretty And doing your own laundry Is such a bind, you soon find And unless the row that led to your departure Is smarting even now, they’ll probably Let you back in - as far as the utility room At least. And the feeling of dependent Doom that sent you reeling out the door Dissipates like petrol in the rain Suddenly, you catch the scent (Above the clean fart Of Ariel and Comfort) The overpowering aroma Of your mum’s Sunday dinner There is chicken Winner! Winner! Thick gravy and roasties And parsnips and peas from the garden And Dad’s Yorkshire Pudding And You collect your hot clothes In a big static ball From the laundromat dryer And get a bus back To your sad little bedsit And watch some Sunday shit On your black and white portable But hey, at least you’ve Got your independence
July 5, 2025 at 10:03 PM
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A Poem a Day for yesterday, day 114: Spam. Being one of the prompts for tonight’s #steppingstonescribblers workshop. I didn’t post anything yesterday, because a) I got home v. late from a concert and b) Bluesky was down. To make up for it, this is the first of three tonight!
A picture, close-up of a random shop front in Lisbon. Spam Pinky and porky Oozing between my emails It repeats, repeats Nobody can get in touch My spam filter’s all clogged up
April 25, 2025 at 8:27 PM
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Poem 198: Chase. Being one of the prompts for Friday’s #steppingstonescribblers writing workshop.

#poem #poetry #cats #catpoetry #poetrycommunity #poetsofbluesky
A photo of my cat Risca, sitting on our patio. In the middle distance, there’s a dry stone wall, and beyond that are brambles, ivy, dry ferns and various bushes and trees. Chase He’s sitting, pert and furry At the fringe of the patio When a thingy catches his eye Immediately his demeanour changes Every millimetre of his body gets serious Down onto his belly his haunches quiver Shake from side to side As he switches from look to Watch to surveillance There’s a definite thingy in The undergrowth, could be furry Could be scaly, but it’s a thingy Alright He pours himself down The edge of the patio Reconstitutes himself On the grass below, flat As a shadow, approaching The vicinity of the thingy In total, sepulchral Silence But The thingy spots him and he’s Off, like the whooshy fluff In Vision On, the chase is Most definitely On With a cat-shaped space In the brambles like a Hanna-Barbera cartoon Only this is no cartoon And there is rustling and thrashing And nosediving into leafy piles And Nothing And then Like close magic Like a glitch in the matrix He’s sitting, pert and furry At the fringe of the patio As if he had never even thought Of a thingy.
August 17, 2025 at 8:58 PM
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A Poem a Day, Day 136: The Empty Shelf.

#steppingstonescribblers #poem #poetry #prompt #theemptyshelf #poetrycommunity #blueskypoetry
Same photo as yesterday, cos this is a sequel to yesterday’s poem. The crop of the photo of the farm somewhere in the UK is different (you can see the reflection of the farm in the pond) - plus I’ve added a light leak. The Empty Shelf In the forest adjacent To Forty Acre Farm There’s a root cellar Where the farmer’s daughter, Florence A self-taught nuclear physicist Used to conduct her research (Until the authorities seized her And her equipment, without Consent - and we haven’t seen her since) At the back of the root cellar There are shelves and shelves Of root vegetables (which may or May not be turnips) All except one shelf which remains Utterly empty Like a politician’s promise Except Unlike a politician’s promise It’s not empty at all It seems that Florence Created a nexus between Parallel universes on this shelf Ostensibly to help her parents If the harvest was poor This photo of the farm is reversed and then I’ve applied a light leak to it The Empty Shelf (continued) They could reach into the ‘empty’ shelf And pull out crops from the other Forty Acre Farm. Not too much Because that would be selfish Except Florence’s father Got over-excited and Dragged himself up onto The empty shelf And met his other farmer self (They didn’t get on) and then Found the other empty shelf In the other root cellar In the other forest adjacent to The other Forty Acre Farm Created by the other farmer’s son Florian So he climbed up and found himself In the other other Forty Acre Farm Taking provisions from there Got into a terrible fracas With the other other farmer Who called up the military police robots They chased him into The other other other Forty Acre Farm Which was run by a sentient turnip Which might be where We came in originally
May 17, 2025 at 9:06 PM