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After the terrible journey, the ship landed The king awaits answers for ancient disputes,and swift return with riches untold. You climb the steam-shrouded islandRodents scuttle in the darknessGulls circle high above youAs sun suspends the morning mist But neither he nor you expectedthe sacred geometryof the timeless mirrorHe may not be merciful,though the truth has now awoken.

Dreams of the faithfulOf the strange crooked alter;Cursed cycles align Stealthily the dragon crawlsIgniting his airy flame

The good messengerFast and silent, like a stagCompelled by the wind To ask the noble giantThe hour of dissolution

Do you know the obscure but merciful king who resisted fate?Noble dreams were his,buried as the sun scorched gates of morning aligned —and the stagnant holy world stirredthrough the eyes of a thousand vigilant rats.

(On Wyrd, Word and The Will To See) In earth-fast halls where the old names cling,The bound mind bows to the weight they bring.Word-poison wrought in the kin’s decree—“What is is named, and must ever be.” In water’s deep where the dark threads run,Wyrd is woven, not yet undone.No chain is cast, yet all are confinedBy the silent shape of the seeking mind. Then thorn-thrust comes—Thurisaz…

Daily writing promptAre you superstitious?View all responses Yes. Or at least I think I am. The problem is that I think there should be a dividing line between subconscious ritual and superstition. I know I put my right sock on before I put my left one on as I’m left handed. Same with my shoes and boots. I always check to see if I have my phone, glasses and door keys before I leave the house.…

Ignis fugit; terra meminit. A gate stood trembling underneath divided stars,While the keeper listened for the song in hidden scars.A hunter of flame broke rank with reckless sight,And chased a shard of truth through cinders of the night.A lord of vision unfurled banners in the fractured air,Yet sparks of purpose thinned and vanished everywhere.A warrior tempered past despair turned his blade…

Below the night-sentinel’s timeless gazeThe shadow voyager weavesschemes like stellar strands The faith healer becomes the order breakerThe heart-thrall protects his beloved And although the hunched conflict-creatorincubates his plansHis self-strife will ruin them

On Thursday:Make an offering of purity to MercuryThat threatens the wicked wisdomAnd the predatory lust that’sFound on the looming island Be diligent with the ashes;There will be time to seeThe strange navigator vanishingFrom the shifting mirror

A bit of fun for you. I didn’t mean to write a parody of William Blake, but that’s how this ended up 😉

At the root of the tidea voice gathers saltand cannot cross the mouth. Night keeps its mirrors,turning them slightlyso memory loosens its grip. A spark presses against the dark,finding only closed doors,heat without a name. Yet beneath the grounda thin gold seam opens —not to the world, but inward. And something small returns:a hand meeting itselfin the dim afterglow.

The harvest became a burdenFor the reaper dressed in redThe mystery of endless spaceCurling inward, whispered dreadCareless architect, distractedTurned foundations on its headThe father steeped in slow decaySlept while fest’ring on his bed Yet somewhere beyond the ruinsIllumination can you findThe irradiated sovereignCreates triumphs of the mindHe can do the same for youIf you’re so inclined

Daily writing promptWrite about your first computer.View all responses As usual, there are multiple levels here. The first computer I ever used was at Art College in 1983. We had to write a simple program rotating a triangle around the Z axis; it was a particular breakthrough for me as I’d not really understood that concept correctly. As soon as it was visualised, I got it; that was the first…

Daily writing promptWhat would you do if you won the lottery?View all responses Been a while since I did one of these – and this is a good one! I’d retire immediately. Then I think I need a wish list. I’d relocate to one of my favourite places in the south of France – that actually may be on the cards without a lottery win, but I’m not going to indulge in wishful thinking about that. However,…

I lay the blade of troubled thought to sleep,Where silent oaths of muffled quiet will keep.Old ground collapsing while at rest,Breath now returning to my chestA pact with gentleness.At end, mercilessnessThe horse turns slow,The sun says: go.Move now;Show how. Through human hands once more I find my name,A steadier heart burns with a cleaner flame.What closed once now becomes a door,Unstable base…

Turbulent Tuesday,Queen of confusionAmbition stays the challengerDrowning healer,monarch of occlusionUnstable judgement shall endure King of Air exists therePassionBoilingCan’t see him anywhereTurmoilSpoiling Stagnate?Abate.

The choice: between the Knight of Fire orA Damp afternoon in the sodden shireRebel against the leaden skiesDon the cloak of the heart’s surpriseMay birch twigs be your hearthFoundations be your pathMove through the stormIn agile formDefendAscend (Technical note: this is a variant on the Clogyrnach form – ten lines starting with a ten syllable count ending with two lines ending in two syllables.…