This is the age of reason
Apparently
What reason then
Behind the starving child
Tortured by hunger pains
What reason
Behind the women
Sold as toys
What reason
The stockpiling and use
Of weapons of blood
One reason
One alone
That pounds every moment
Of our lives
In response to the daily prompt Age
#DailyPrompt #iamwriting, #postaday
Snippet
Clip it
Crimp it
Crumpets
Strumpets
Trumpets
The clear, pure note of a trumpet
Filling expectant silence
With celebration
In response to the daily prompt Snippet
#DailyPrompt #iamwriting
The sparrows scatter the pine cones
Down the valley and down
The salmon are jumping the ladders
The bears are shiny and brown
The river digs through the mountain
Too deep to hold any sin
The current rolls over and over
As ruins come tumbling in
Deep in the widening desert
Rumbles mistakes from the past
Mad birds scatter their debris
The light is shattered and cast
The stars shine high in the nighttime
Burning the rocks bare below
Melting resolve of the greatest
Like newly laid snow
Darkness pushes the light
Further and further apart
Stillness covers the chaos
Silence claims every heart
#iamwriting
Time is a one way street
There is no going back
A Saturday now is not a Saturday then
Monday morning comes again
Time drips
Dreams trip
Words will see us through
In response to the daily prompt One Way
#DailyPrompt #iamwriting
The scrabble for the dream
Prevents the dream
As we fill every moment
Chasing here and there
To get things done!
We never stop to ask
Why
The things we are chasing
We will never have time for
As we are too busy
Chasing
Mankind and I
Have become
Empty husks of purpose
#iamwriting
The percussive beat
Of a heart pounding with life
Stilled by quick, sharp teeth
In response to the daily prompt Percussive
#DailyPrompt #iamwriting
The underdogs are many
Trampled underfoot
While they fetch and roll
And play dead
Until the day
They remember
They are
Wolves
And the pack arises
In response to the daily prompt Underdog
#DailyPrompt #iamwriting
The smallest of crumbs
Of hope keep us all trying
Generating cash
In response to the daily prompt Crumb
#DailyPrompt #iamwriting
The gate swings
Welcoming those who have come
Waving to those who have gone
The wear on the paint
Remembrance
Painting it over
Will not erase the memory
In response to the daily prompt Gate
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting
I wandered lonely as a brick
That sinks and dives in stream and lake,
When all at once I was so sick,
And an awful mess I did make.
Beside the lake, beneath the trees.
Splattering my stomach in the breeze.
It must have been the bread I had
Or maybe that old Milky Way.
This puddle of sick smelt so bad
Along the margin of the bay.
Ten pints I had drunk, at a guess.
Tossing my head, I felt a mess.
The waves in my head danced, and they
Dashed my weak legs from under me.
A poet could not be so gay
As the one who stood over me.
He gazed and gazed and then in glee
Threw up and fell down next to me.
Next morn when on my couch I lay
In vacant and in pensive mood.
I swore I’d give up drink that day.
And swore some more, it was quite rude.
But soon, once more, the cider spills.
I’ll sleep again with daffodils.
In response to the daily prompt Dash
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting
Words slurred
Danger
Thoughts blurred
Danger
Moral smudged
Danger
Figures fudged
Danger
Modern life
In response to the daily prompt slur
#DailyPrompt
Let the rhythm of the future
Not be
The rhythm of the past
Let us change it
Though the task be hard
And let it be
Beautiful
Let it be vast
Lest it be elegant
And true
In response to the daily prompt Rhythmic
#DailyPrompt
The glitterati glitter
While the paparazzi pack
Lines full of lies and libel
To shore up the moral we lack
The world wide web weaves wonders
Hyperlinks hypnotise
The people they rage and thunder
Swallowing all of the lies
So watch the things that glisten
Watch the lustre and shine
And remember that nobody listens
Any of the time
In response to the daily prompt Glitter
#DailyPrompt
A lukewarm life
Mine could be considered
Is that a bad thing?
Or maybe
The heat
Is deep and concealed
Who can tell?
In response to the daily prompt Lukewarm
#DailyPrompt
Futility, the child of awareness
Perhaps ignorance is bliss
Not a choice I would make
Action begins in awareness
Except in rivers and clouds
In response to the daily prompt Aware
#DailyPrompt
Do not lightly discard them
with tales of the foolish bold.
They sat for weeks, for months, for years
in trenches freezing cold.
Sometimes feet simply mouldered
in the sucking mud.
And now and then they’d rise and run
and spill their loyal blood.
Do not belittle the suffering
of soldiers now long dead.
With nothing but talk and songs and bombs
bursting in their head.
Bound together with chains of love
shattered by leaden death.
They ended as they had begun
with cries upon their breath.
Do not lightly remember them
with only paper flowers.
they faced the fear, the pain, the cold,
for hours and hours and hours.
They ran together and fell alone
upon those foreign fields.
Protecting those they loved
those frightened human shields.
Do not read these words and think
that these things are passed.
Do not think you will not hear
that deep and dreadful blast.
Do not sit in decadence
and take for granted peace.
You owe a debt to those who died
and that debt will never cease.
It’s hard to be heard in the herd
The shared shards of pain shred
The glass glistens but no one listens
To the words of bards and the birds
Yes, it’s hard to be heard
In response to the daily prompt Heard
#DailyPrompt
Clean sweep
Clean start
Clean up
On a clean page
Clean sheet
Clean bill of health
Don’t they know?
Things grow in dirt.
In response to the daily prompt Clean
#DailyPrompt
Resistance is futile
So they say
Sometimes
It certainly feels that way
But from resistance
We get the heat
Without which
We would be
Incomplete
Heat is energy
That turns into action
Action and reaction
The turning of the engine of
Revolution
In response to the daily prompt Resist
#DailyPrompt
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Fight or Flight.”
Flight or fight
They say
But that first day
The looming shadow
The bully
I was pinned
Couldn’t run
Couldn’t fight
Jellified with fear
Neither response available
For many years
That shadow stalked me
Until one day
I fought
And it fled
My new poetry collection offers 365 moments of contemplation. Explore a variety of forms and emotions, and let each poem brighten your day. #PoetryCollection #DailyPoems
Dive into a vibrant world of poetry with 365 pieces crafted from dreams and emotions, each one a daily gift for an entire year. This collection features an array of forms including haiku, sonnets, katauta, lanturnes, and free verse, each poem reflecting the myriad moods of life. Experience the ebb and flow of sadness and grief, joy and love, captured in every verse.
Let these poems be a bright spot in your day, offering a serene moment of reflection amidst the chaos of life. Embrace the opportunity to pause, contemplate, and see the world through a different lens.
Taunting thunder
Bring on the storm
Rail against the rain
Scream at the sea’s form
But the storm rages on
The rain lashes skin
The sea eats the land
And sweeps on in
Still and steadfastly
Stands the ancient oak
Stretched beneath the sun
Or a frosty cloak
Weathers every storm
Watching briefer lives
Rushing by at work
Like bees in hives
Yet even this strong trunk
Well one day bend and break
As time drinks strength
A thirst it cannot slake
So rail on against the rain
Rage against the storm
Swim against the tide
While blood still runs warm
The robin in his nest
Perched in the naked branches
Of the blasted tree
Three winds blown
Over the black, sore plain
Wisps of smoke rise
And stings his eyes
Faint embers glow
All around
The hot storm has howled
Now the beast is grounded
Never to rise again
A hard winter will fall
The nest will freeze
No more tears
Will wet the plain
In response to the daily prompt Nest
#DailyPrompt #iamwriting
Find a moment of peace in your busy day with my collection of 365 poems. From joy to sorrow, each poem is a reflection of life’s many moods. #Poetry #DailyInspiration
Uncover the magic of poetry with our latest collection! This anthology features 365 poems, each crafted with dreams and deep emotions, published daily over a year. Experience a variety of forms—haikus, sonnets, katautas, lanturnes, and free form—that capture a wide range of moods and reflections.
Each poem offers a moment of contemplation, a brief escape from the stress of everyday life. With themes of sadness, joy, love, and grief, these poems provide a touch of inspiration and a fresh perspective.
Invest in this collection to enrich your daily routine and find beauty in every day. Dive into the rhythm of poetry and let it transform your world. Don’t miss out—get your copy today!
Amber brown bristles
Fletched true
Sighted
On the smooth straight shaft
Knocked
Creak of wood
And leather
Tense flesh
Strength of arm
Years
Of hard work
Hard life
Peaked
In tense flesh
Aimed
Deep russet red
Undulating tight
Over perfect form
Moving with surety
Strength and grace
Slender neck
Proud eyes
High points
Antlers spectacular
Slow high-speed
Flight
True
Through high trunks
Ancient towers
Sturdy and rough
Flicking leaves
Pungent smell
Of spilt sap
Over lazy ferns
Struck
Sunk deep
In perfect flesh
Deep russet red
Covered in bright
Fresh crimson
Hunter
Has hunted
Dusk
Deep red sky
Flecked with sparks
Orange
Embers fly
On aroma
Of roasted flesh
Venison
Consumed
Hunter sated
For now
Started awake
Cold
Stone and straw
Shit and piss
And chains
A dream
Of a memory
Despite all
A happy dream
Amidst horror
And darkness
Weakness
Flesh wasted
In forgotten depths
Waiting
For nothing
Time drips
Away
Into nothing
Sodden straw
Stronger arms
Clad in chain
Dragged from darkness
Down cold
Stone corridors
Into light
Hammering eyes
Screams and shouts
Hammering ears
Then rope
And wood
Strong scent
Of wet rope
Rough against
Weak neck
And wood
Creaking underfoot
Screams and jeers
A clunk
Freedom from weight
From the wait
Exhilaration
Then……
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Cliche
A bird in the hand
Is not worth
Two in the bush
The two in the bush are free
The one in the hand will wither
The two in the bush will multiply
Bring forth bounty
The one in the hand will need feeding
Care and Tenderness
The hand that holds
Is neither tender nor caring
Each day holds a new dream, a new emotion, and a new perspective in “A Spring of Dreams.” Join Scott Andrew Bailey on a poetic journey that spans a year and encapsulates the essence of life’s varied experiences. #PoetryForLife
Three hundred and sixty-five poems in all shapes and sizes, sprung from dreams and emotion. Published day after day for a year. There are haiku, sonnets, katauta, lanturnes and many other forms – including free form. The moods are as varied as the forms and often reflect my mood on the day. There is sadness and grief, joy and love.
If nothing else – these can provide a small moment in everyone’s stressful lives to stop and contemplate the world in a different way.
Today’s prompt is. Odd couple
Does a messy home (or office) make you anxious and cranky, or is cleaning something you just do before company comes over?
Today’s prompt is. Five a day
You’ve being exiled to a private island, and your captors will only supply you with five foods. What do you pick?
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Trading spaces
To be another
Would it bring wisdom
Or confusion
Would it destroy
Our sense of selves
Or broaden it
Today’s prompt is. Trading spaces
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a member of the opposite sex for a day? What do you think life would be like?
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Happy Happy joy joy
Tears of joy
They warmed my cheeks
When you first smiled at me
My son
These days
Teardrops are frozen
With a thousand
Fears
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Judgement Day
Perhaps Today's leaders Don't fear Judgement They know There will be No one left to judge Them
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Deja Vu
History repeats
Only more intense
It’s not a cycle
It’s a spiral
Down to doom
Today’s prompt is. Happy happy joy joy
We cry for lots of reasons: sadness, pain, fear . . . and happiness. When was the last time you shed tears of joy?
Today’s prompt is. Judgment day
If you were to judge your favorite book by its cover, would you still read it?
Today’s prompt is. Déjà vu
Have you ever truly felt déjà vu, the sensation that you’ve already had the experience you’re currently having?
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Idyllic
A well-kept garden
A hidden nook at the edge
By a stream
Overlooking a valley
I sit and write
It is a dream I have
He would never see his son again.
Unless…
Unless he went made it through today. Found the strength from somewhere. Put aside his pain.
The trauma his son had suffered had not been at his hands. Logically there was no responsibility for it on his shoulders.
Logic was a weak fence against raw emotion. Emotion that told him that he had failed as a father, that the protection he was supposed to give had been lacking, just that once.
Nobody agreed with him.
That made no difference.
So, he would not compound failure with failure. This was his last chance. He would take it.
He had tried all other avenues. Therapy, prayer, medication. Nothing worked, Yet what it had done was show him the way. It had made clear the path he needed to tread.
So he took a deep breath and rose from his seat. He nodded to the doctor signalling his readiness. The doctor frowned but kept his piece. He opened the door and let him enter his son’s room.
The room was sparse, clinical. His son lay curled on top of the bedsheets, motionless. Awake but unresponsive. He did not look up or acknowledge his father’s entrance.
There was a small bedside table to the left of the bed on which sat a plastic beaker of water. The bed was positioned by the window. Sunlight tried to make an impression on the coldness of the room but failed. The only other furniture was a white chest of drawers and some empty white bookshelves.
Then there were the books.
The books, many many books, that should have rested on the shelves or strewn on the floor. An impressive collection for one so young.
They hung impossibly in the air.
He sighed. He knew what came next. It had all become familiar to him. This time though he did not avoid it. He did not flinch or try to defend himself. This time he smiled at his son.
The books flew at him. As if thrown by immense strength and anger. The hard spines whacked into his flesh like dull nails. Again and again and again. Raining pain upon his body. The books that hit him fell to the ground limply, twitched like dying flies, then were suddenly whisked up and flung again.
There was no let-up.
He could feel his body being pummelled into a bloody bruised mess. But he took it. Stood calmly, raised his arms towards his son and kept smiling. Gave all he had left to him – gave him his unconditional love. Took the punishment not meant for him.
The books whirled faster as the rage grew. Like a tornado of leather and card, they descended on him, pounded him. The pain passed over what was bearable to no longer being processable – so he no longer felt it. He knew he would not last much longer – if this continued his body would fail him. Darkness crept inwards along the edges of his eyes. He kept smiling, locked his legs and stood, arms out.
The whirl became a darkness that was trying to beat his flesh from his bones. He felt like the bones themselves were splintering beneath.
Then it stopped.
Suddenly all the books fell to the floor. Sunlight sprang into the room as if a lock had burst.
His son looked up and held out his arms for his father.
Today’s prompt is. Idyllic
What does your ideal community look like? How is it organized, and how is community life structured? What values does the community share?
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Competition
Stats
And myself
These are my competitors
When did the stats
Creep in?
Today’s prompt is. Competition
What activity, task, or game most brings out your competitive streak?
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Local flavour
Here my roots are deep
I am nourished
I can reach out to the world
I don’t need to go there
Today’s prompt is. Local flavor
Write a piece about a typically “local” experience from where you come from as though it’s an entry in a travel guide.
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Stranded
All alone Stranger in a strange land But alive Next step Taken in fear? Or as a chance To start again
Today’s prompt is. Stranded
You’re stranded in a foreign city for a day with no money and no friends. Where do you go; what do you do?
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Bedtime Stories
Swords and bows
Chivalry and Justice
Robbing to rich
To pay the poor
King’s who were not above the law
And magic
Ancient lore
These were the stories
That filled my head before bed
What happened to those times?
Today’s prompt is. Bedtime stories
What was your favorite book as a child? Did it influence the person you are now?
In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, INTJ
I like to walk Late at night In peaceful darkness Treading by starlight Comforted by silence Secured by solitude and peace The parties are overrated
Scott Andrew Bailey - Author 