The tree is man-made, the gifts are fake,

The carols make my stomach ache.

I hate the crowds, the forced-up cheer,

The noise that fills this time of year.

The sales are loud, the hype is worse,

Everyone's lost in some gift-giving curse.

The cookies? -Too sweet! The songs? -A "bore"!

I’d rather be locked behind my door.

So skip the cheer, and ditch the mess,

I’d...

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Based on the Gospel of Luke 2

A decree from Caesar* spread across the land,

That all should go to be enrolled and taxed.

To Bethlehem, where Joseph took his stand,

With Mary, great with child, as law exacts.

While there, the time was come for her to bear,

And she brought forth her firstborn son, divine.

In swaddling clothes, He lay without a care,

Upon the straw, God...

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A year unfolds where silence reigned supreme,

A hollow life devoid of hope’s faint gleam.

No voices called, no hands reached out in kind,

To soothe the scars etched deep within my mind.

So-called companions faded, turned to mist,

Their fleeting presence barely had me missed.

I dialed their numbers, waited by the phone,

But met a cold, unyielding dial tone.

Acquain...

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This poem challenges the myth of inherent greatness in those who rise to prominence and reminds us that success often comes from luck, influence, or fear—not brilliance or charm. It inspires readers to value their uniqueness, silence doubt, and pursue their own path with determination and pride.
 

Do you feel small, unseen, unheard?

Does the world seem tilted, its justice absurd?

Remembe...

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In 1897, the death of Elva Zona Heaster was deemed accidental, but her mother’s grief would not subside. When Zona’s ghost appeared, it revealed a shocking truth that no one could ignore. Based on a chilling true event, Elva Zona’s Last Act explores a haunting tale of love, betrayal, and justice from beyond the grave.

Born in 1876, Elva Zona Heaster,

Of her youth, only fragments reside.

I...

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This poem tries to capture the pain of watching a friend succumb to addiction, bound to a destructive habit that erodes both health and hope. As one friend struggles with the limits of friendship and "agape", the other slips further and further away, lost in a cycle that breaks promises and bodies alike. This poem hopefully serves as both plea and ultimatum—a haunting look at the cost of holding o...

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In this poem, the unchecked ambitions of figures like Elon Musk and Donald Trump are laid bare, portraying the madness and manipulation behind their rise to power. The poem particularly critiques Musk’s dangerous influence, highlighting his role in sowing discord and spreading misinformation. With a blend of corporate greed and political manoeuvring, Musk’s tactics are compared to the authoritaria...

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This  limerick wants to be a humorous reminder to brush off the negativity and unsolicited opinions that others throw your way. "There’s a way past the arse and down the back" is a metaphor for letting criticism slide right off you, without letting it stick! In a world full of judgments, it’s a reminder that the only opinion that truly matters is your own. Let it slide and keep moving forward!

...

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Beneath Mount Fuji’s Weeping Pines explores the haunting beauty and silent sorrow of Aokigahara, the infamous Suicide Forest. At the foot of Japan’s iconic mountain, this poem uncovers the tragic, quiet tales hidden among the dense trees. With reverence for both life and death, it tries to paint a picture of a place where the natural world and human despair converge, and where the forest itself ho...

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In these challenging times, this limerick tries to capture the destructive force of all the "isms"—racism, antisemitism, extremism and others—shaping a world where security and peace seem ever more distant. By highlighting the deep-rooted nature of these hatreds, it emphasises how they threaten our safety and undermine the unity we desperately need. A call to action against intolerance, this piece...

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This limerick plays with the idea that expertise isn’t always the key to success. After all, the ark was built by an amateur, and yet it survived, while the Titanic—crafted by professionals—met its doom. With a humorous twist, it reminds us not to despair at being an amateur, as even the experts can falter in the face of fate. The lesson? Sometimes it’s the passion and drive, not the credentials, ...

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In a world where you can't escape judgment, this limerick tries to dive deep into the absurdity of trying to please everyone. Even if you perform the impossible—like walking on water—someone will still find fault, questioning your intelligence and abilities. With a touch of irony, this piece wants to highlight  the endless nature of criticism and the futility of seeking universal approval. It’s th...

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If you want to know what God thinks of gold,
Just look at the wealthy, the brazen, the bold.
For riches, you’ll find,
Go to quite the odd kind,
And that’s all you need to be told!

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In "A Reckoning for a Nation's Madness",  the terrifying consequences of the 2024 U.S. election are laid bare, where a nation’s democratic pillars crumble under the weight of unchecked power. With the alignment of the executive, legislature, and judiciary, the poem tries to starkly capture a political landscape where the essential checks and balances have vanished. Trump’s return to power, paired ...

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For me, there should be roses raining,
A sky of wonders, never waning.
The world should twist, turn on its head,
And all its worries left unsaid.

At sixteen, I dreamt with quiet fire,
To reach the heights, to never tire.
To claim my place, to stand my ground,
With every voice, I’d make a sound.

And later, I longed for something grand,
To see the world, to understand.
Not lo...

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In a nation bound by tyranny, the promise of greatness has given way to an era of oppression and regret. The President‘s iron grip on every facet of American power—its courts, its government, its press—has silenced all opposition. Critics live isolated behind walls, stripped of their rights and betrayed by their own leader. The world looks on, watching a broken empire built on ashes. The people wh...

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The Mask of Power explores the psychological forces and hidden vulnerabilities that draw people to tyrants and dictators. The poem examines how fear, desire for stability, misplaced admiration, and the lure of authority can eclipse personal freedoms and reason. It lays bare the cost of forsaking liberty for security and comfort, revealing the frail peace that lies beneath a tyrant's reign.

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In a world where success seems reserved for the cunning and the ruthless, I am the world’s biggest loser—the one who rises each morning, goes to work, and takes pride in self-reliance, while many take the easy route, relying on welfare or cutting corners. I shoulder my responsibilities, pay my bills, meet every expectation, and treat others with respect, only to watch those who ignore these values...

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How come or better what makes people knowingly choose a leader who thrives on destruction and cruelty? This searing poem tries to explore the mindset of disillusioned voters who, feeling powerless and betrayed by traditional appeals to reason, find a strange allure in chaos and brute strength. It examines how cynicism, resentment, and frustration with an unjust world drive people to vote for a “st...

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America’s dream died today, in shame,

A tyrant’s pride ignites this fateful flame.

By numbers marked, and fools enthralled by might,

A nation blinds itself to the loss of light.

Women, gripped by fear, forsake their claim,

Bowing to their husbands’ will more than their shame.

The unborn’s cry, once called a holy fight,

Falls mute beneath this gilded thief's delight.

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The seat is set, the court aligned, a bench of loyal hands,

Built years ago to serve his will and bind the nation’s strands.

The promise of a "trifecta" rings through every twisted plan—

The Senate, House, and White House seized, all bending to one man.

A tyrant clothed in freedom’s name, he laughs at checks and laws,

Determined now to strip each branch of power and righteous c...

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A man once pondered, dream in hand,

How he might cross that spectral band,

To vault beyond his outline’s trace,

And claim a feat none could erase.

He tried at dawn and chased at noon,

Yet found his mark had slipped too soon;

For every leap left only doubt—

His outline lingered all about.

Until one night, a figure stood,

In quiet dusk, beneath a hood.

A pract...

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Sweet incense rises, candles glow,

For those whose paths we long to know.

With pan de muerto, lovingly baked,

We welcome souls to join our wake.

In marigold’s vibrant, golden hue,

Petals line paths with grace anew,

To lead our kin from distant years,

Back to our hearts, through joy and tears.

An altar stands in homage bold,

Each gift and photo, stories told.

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They think they own the ballots, own the game,

With fortunes vast, they bend the rules—no shame.

There stands Musk, the madman with his cash,

To buy his way through any law he’ll crash.

They push for laws to block the common voice,

Through Voter ID, stripping people's choice.

For every road they say will “guard” the polls,

They build another wall to close the rolls.

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When the sky’s ink-black and the moon’s gone mad,
It’s a Halloween night like you’ve never had!
Down cobblestone streets, shrieks fill the air,
As witches stomp by with green tangled hair.

A zombie brigade starts to drag their dead feet,
Groaning, “Brains!” as they lurch towards every street.
Kids shriek, “Trick or treat!” with devilish glee,
While vampires hiss, "Save a drop for me!"

...

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The day arrived when his schemes grew too wide,

No rug left to sweep his sins inside;

From court to cottage, the rumours flew,

And whispers sharpened as people knew.

In hurried disguises, he fled each town,

His silk robe traded for tattered brown;

Yet sharp-eyed hunters, swift and keen,

Followed his trail through valleys unseen.

Once hailed as a genius, an icon of...

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His rise continued with daring displays,

In stolen finery, he trod gilded ways;

Kings’ guards and bankers, all duped by his craft,

Not one yet aware of the lies he’d raft.

In cities that whispered his name aloud,

He dressed in fine silks, his head high, unbowed;

By night he’d wager and flatter and charm,

Leaving empty purses as dawn met farm.

Across his path, the ...

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Part I

Ogilvy Icarus, clever and bold,

Stepped from the crowd with a smirk that told,

Not of his name or humble descent,

But of the games his quick wits had spent.

Through parlours of gentry, grand halls and din,

He courted the trust of each next-of-kin;

With glances and nods, a master at play,

He’d empty their coffers and slink away.

To him, the world was a fi...

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The tide is rising with corrosive lies,

Where ignorance and rage entwine in dark disguise.

Unmoored from truth, they shout and blind the mind,

And reason, silenced, falters, left behind.

Young hearts, unshielded, gripped by twisted creed,

Through platforms pulsing with a poisoned feed,

Fall prey to rhetoric of scorn and spite,

As venom fills the streams and taints the nig...

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Peewee, who fancies himself kind,

Calls friendship the sharpest snare you'll find.

A philanthropist, he claims the cost

Of open trust is often lost.

“Loving’s a risk,” Peewee begins,

“No one wounds deeper than one you let in.

To give your heart is danger stark;

Few repay your light for their dark.”

For in the end, he’d come to learn,

That kindness, unreturned, ...

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The wolves are circling, teeth laid bare,

And still we stand, too numb to care.

They rise again, those we once knew,

Their flags wave high in red, white, blue.

Did we not learn from wounds and graves,

From screams of those they could not save?

The streets were paved with lies and fear,

Till fire consumed all we held dear.

This is no game, no idle fight—

Their p...

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Dear Parent,
In your quest to shield your child from every scrape and stumble, remember: life’s greatest lessons often come from facing challenges head-on. Helicopter and lawnmower parenting may seem loving, but overprotection can rob children of vital experiences that foster resilience, independence, and confidence. By removing obstacles and fears, you might inadvertently create a world where yo...

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They sit behind their screens, unseen, unknown,

In silence, festering where hate is grown.

With wicked glee they weave their wicked schemes,

And spread the poison flowing from their deviant memes.

Each word they wield a blade to twist and turn,

Rejoicing as their victims shrink and burn.

They hide, protected by their cruel device,

Their mouths all lies, their hearts a col...

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A world where every word's a boast,

A self-made legend, he believes he's the most.

God's gift, strutting in a glittering show,

Bigheaded and cocky, the center of his glow.

In love with himself, a mirror of pride,

Egotistical nature, nowhere to hide.

With every tweet, he grandstands, so proud,

Fortune-hunting dreams, he draws in a crowd.

Obsessed with his image, a ...

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The shutters rattle in the yellow gloom,
A house once filled with paint and desperate fire.
Now haunted by the ghosts that line the room,
Where Vincent's fevered mind could not retire.

The quarrel with Gauguin still burns his chest,
A friend now lost, the bond of artists torn.
He slashed his ear, the madness took the rest,
A mind too wild, unraveling, forlorn.

The swirling st...

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In a world where words are measured, thoughts confined,

Where humour dares not tread on toes aligned,

We walk on eggshells, fearful, self-contained,

As though our speech itself was preordained.

Gone are the days when satire cut like steel,

When jest could probe and challenge what we feel.

Now cancel culture prowls with sharpened teeth,

Condemning those who wander far bene...

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To have food stocked, and clothes to keep you warm,

A roof above to shield from cold and rain,

A place to rest and weather any storm,

Is wealth beyond what many can obtain.

With money in your purse, the world is wide,

You join the ranks of those who freely roam,

The richest few with every need supplied,

Their lives secure and anchored in their home.

If health sust...

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A contribution to the National Poetry Day

The ancient scrolls still hum beneath our hands,

Where Dante penned his vision of the damned,

And Shakespeare wove the web of love’s despair,

Their words like fire, fierce upon the tongue.

Yet what of now, in cities loud with steel?

Do poets falter when the heart’s revealed?

Do sonnets crumble under neon glare,

Or still they pu...

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