By Scott Bailey © 2017
Lobster shuffles out
Coming out of his safe shell
Fabulously pink

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #158 Pink&Shell
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Lobster shuffles out
Coming out of his safe shell
Fabulously pink

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #158 Pink&Shell
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Goodnight. Sleep tight. Love you with all my heart.
One snuggled cosy in bed.
One in the earth.
Mother and Father
Forever hurt.
In response to the daily prompt Bury
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting

Kookaburra laughs
Amused at the irate ants
Eyeing them for lunch
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #157 Amused&Irate
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Splosh
And a little erosion
Helped on
By little hands
Joy is free
Available as
or hardback
from Amazon
or CreateSpace
I am drawn
By slightly parted lips
Swaying hips
Twinkling eyes
A smile
I am drawn

In response to the daily prompt Magnet
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting
According to Amazon’s own Author Central – the ranking for all three of my books has shot up considerably – despite the fact that I haven’t sold any extra copies lately.
Wonder what’s going on?

Change is the only constant
One of my favourite quotes from one of my favourite books – Dune by Frank Herbert.
In times of stress and trouble, it helps to remember that all things pass, even the things that darken our days. So savour the moments that count, enjoy them.
My biggest problem is that while intellectually I accept that, try to live that, in my heart, I crave conformity and security. Safety and predictability.
A dangerous and seductive train of thought that I am finding harder and harder to resist. Getting old maybe?
Well, it’s time to shake things up. I will be starting a new job in a few weeks. Life is forcing changes on me whether I want it or not. Time to wake up, embrace the change and revel in the storms.
In response to the daily prompt Temporary
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting
Over in the US
The new boss has his eye on you
You are all apprentices now
All in the firing line

In response to the daily prompt Apprentice
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting
Minimal contact
Minimal support
Minimal communication
Maximum propaganda
In response to the daily prompt Minimal
#DailyPrompt

So it’s official – my author interview will be appearing on Thanet Writers this Saturday – 04/03/2017.
Rest assured I’ll be blogging about it when it happens 🙂
I have at various points in my life had to bare my soul top strangers.
When we lost our second child and attended group therapy – we bared our feelings. (There’s still plenty there though that needs to come out).
When we working through the adoption process we had to really lay bare our lives and feelings.
I find it both difficult but worthwhile. To get know yourself better is a good thing – you can only learn and improve.
What got me thinking back on this is the fact that I have just completed an author Interview for my good comrades over at Thanet Writers. Watch this space I will post links when it’s published.
While not as personal it as quite difficult to do. I think it was because I don’t really see myself as any kind of proper writer – just a dabbler. It will be interesting to see the reaction, though.
For those of you who like the feel of real paper….
Thirteen Tales of Ghosts is now available in paperback! Check it out here.
Or go here for a sample.

A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Other are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.
Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.
Check it out at Amazon and Smashwords and other online e-book retailers.
A paperback version is here for those who prefer the feel of the paper while huddling by the fire – on your own – in the dark – with that noise behind you……
Hippos do not deign
To sweat in the summer heat
Wallow in cool mud
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #137 Sweat&Heat

#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Incredibly pleased and appreciative of the latest (and first for this book) review of Thirteen Tales – many thanks, Janet Gogerty.

See the review below or click here for the original on Amazon.

“This book should be a movie. Somewhere in Hollywood right now there are actors waiting for their agents to deliver this story in script format to them. The makings of all action-packed adventure films is here. I can see the film in my mind’s eye.
But this one is different.
It’s not fast-paced for the thrill of it alone. It needs to be to get the message across. Mankind could be on the threshold of just such a future. Time is racing.
This one could be us.
Maybe a few years down the line yet, maybe already almost there in some similar format. Change a few details. Replace one group for another. Look behind the motives in politics and corporations. Stretch the reality just a little. Ask ourselves questions looking through the light of a different lens.
It feels like us, it acts like us, it may very well come…”
“Great concept to write a poem a day for a year and provides an insight into coping with difficult family circumstances – a recommended read for anyone who has struggled in such situations. Some poems were obviously more personal than others (my favourites were those when the writer cherishes the ‘small moments’ in life such as going to a fireworks display with his wife and son) but he also branches out into more political territory. Look out for the funny poems scattered throughout the book too, one in particular made me laugh out loud! A good read and Scott Bailey shows talent as a poet. Recommended.”

If only we could translate
Emotions as we could words
Maybe wars would be less
Maybe they would be worse
In response to the daily prompt Translate

#DailyPrompt
Unlike an orange
The juicy details of life
Are deep down inside

In response to the daily prompt Juicy
#DailyPrompt
No expectation
No disappointment
One philosophy
Expecting it all
Throwing tantrums when denied
A more common one
There has to be a better way.
In response to the daily prompt Expectation

#DailyPrompt
Seriousness
Has been whittled away
Belittled and demonised
For the serious
Are not good
Consumers
Why so…
In response to the daily prompt seriousness

#DailyPrompt
An old one that fits.
Blue eyes turned purple
Deep purple and very still
Watching all my life
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #136 Eye&Fade
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Grab it now and enjoy – Thirteen Tales (of Ghosts). Spread the word!

A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Others are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.
Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.
Check it out at Amazon and Smashwords and other online e-book retailers.
A paperback version os being worked on for those who prefer the feel of the paper while huddling by the fire – on your own – in the dark – with that noise behind you……
So, either it has snowed in our bathroom, there has been the mother of all cocaine parties or somebody who will remain nameless (starts with an L end with an M few vowels in between) has found Mummy’s talcum powder.
I don’t know what my kids will be when they grow up – but one way or another they will make the world tremble.
In the meantime – here’s an old poem that fits in with today’s prompt.
I have seen giants
Striding over the land
Power on their shoulders
Stern and strong their hand
Never do they falter
Never seen one stumble or fall
Always do their duty
Always answer the call
Through storm and wind and rain
The carry their burden true
Though other links may burn out
The giants stride on through
So remember this and tremble
Even the giants will pass
Fall into dust and rusty ruin
Scattered in untamed grass
One day their burden will dissipate
Their purpose will disappear
And the duty they discharged so well
A memory dimmed with time
In response to the daily prompt Tremble

#DailyPrompt
Oh how I would love
For the world to be lighter
Not a sinking mess
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #135 Love&Light

#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

When will come the time
Fascism is recognised?
When books start burning?
In response to the daily prompt Recognize

#DailyPrompt
The wind shifts its path
Bring new scents in its wake
Fresh blood lures the wolf
In response to the daily prompt Scent

#DailyPrompt
Made of crystal
So clear
It can hardly be seen
The breadth of seven men
The height of the clouds
The top unseen
Inside
Sparking and crackling
Impossible
Bright and pure
It is filled with
Starfire
For miles around
The land knows no dark
Ever
The question might be asked
Why it was built
Were there anyone around
To ask it
Available as
or hardback
from Amazon
or CreateSpace
Sparrow, sparrow in my way.
Briefly tell your tale today.
Tell me if my love is dead.
Do I waste the tears I shed?
Briefly now I’ll tell my tale.
Pray your courage does not fail.
You do not waste the tears you shed.
Alas I say, your love is dead.
A sharp, cold sword did spill her blood.
She tried to stem an angry flood.
But peace that day she could not win.
So fearful war will begin.
Thank you bird for being true.
Nothing’s left for me to do.
To take up arms and pursue strife.
Slay the spoilers of my life.
I bid you sir, think awhile.
Turn from this dark path so vile.
Listen to my humble song.
Step not where your lover’s gone.
Just a simple bird am I
But far above this land I fly.
And see its beauty spread below.
See ahead, where you might go.
Lay down your sword with forgiving heart.
Do not tear your land apart.
Still your rage and vengeance cease.
Follow rather a path of peace.
Humble bird I hear your song.
But my love is dead and gone.
So I raise my sword today.
And will make those killers pay.
The enemies that broke my heart.
And now have torn the land apart.
Upon their heads is all this blood.
For I must release the flood.
Then sir, I shall shed a tear.
For the future I do not fear.
Yet for now I swiftly go.
To make way for the crow.
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.
Why not try a collection of ghostly tales?
Get comfortable by the fire, or under the duvet, grab your Kindle and lock the doors.
To give you a taster read the first story of the collection here.

What’s inside
Distorts and shapes
The exterior
All those dreams and hopes
Hates and fears
That make up the interior
The moiling
Boiling
Packed and stacked
Stretched and tense
Earnest pretense
That inside us all
Makes us all
What we are
Rather than what
We wish
In response to the daily prompt Interior
#DailyPrompt
It was rough last year. I am not just talking about celebrity deaths.
We as a family have had it rough. We have had family members in and out of hospital, having to deal with a diagnosis of Autism for our youngest and his so far very rocky transition into school. I have had work stress and uncertainty. We have seen our social lives and our house being slowly taken apart. I have seen my writing dreams slip away.
Midlife crisis? Maybe.
I have to cling to hope. It is the only thing left.
So not really new years resolutions as such but goals I am aiming for this year.
To find a new job. But not just another role. I need to get back to enjoying work again. That has been totally destroyed of late – I had thought beyond hope – but if I give up hope then all is lost. I have been thinking about a total career change and that’s the way I will try to go.
To improve our daily lives by trying new techniques for dealing with Autistic behaviours.
To reinvigorate my writing dreams. To help with this I will attempt to complete the daily prompt as well as Ronovan’s Weekly Haiku Challenge. This is purely to get my juices flowing. Behind the scenes, I will try to put together two more poetry collections for publishing as well as another short story collection and a new novel. Ambitious but I must attempt it.
I wish everyone a happy new year and hope you all attain your own dreams and goals.
In response to the daily prompt Year
#DailyPrompt
Calm my beating heart
Racing for the beauty of
My beloved wife

In response to the daily prompt Calm
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting
This one for my Poetry Collection!
“Great concept to write a poem a day for a year and provides an insight into copying with difficult family circumstances – a recommended read for anyone who has struggled in such situations. Some poems were obviously more personal than others (my favourites were those when the writer cherishes the ‘small moments’ in life such as going to a fireworks display with his wife and son) but he also branches out into more political territory. Look out for the funny poems scattered through-out the book too, one in particular made me laugh out loud! A good read and Scott Bailey shows talent as a poet. Recommended.”
Check out the original here!

I did it! Well, the first of my aims for the end of this year. I made it over 10,000 views this year. Paltry compared to some I know but miles better than any previous year for me.
Just another 90 followers to pick up now 🙂
On top of that a few more sales this week – including a soft back! Maybe the ball is finally picking up some momentum.
For many reasons – roll on 2017!
It is dark but true
Uncomfortable evidence
When we dig deeper

So here’s the stats right now on Amazon UK – 276th in Short Stories – not bad!
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Check it out – for a taster click here. And the Softback version will be available soon.

A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Other are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.
Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.
Check it out at Amazon and Smashwords and other online e-book retailers.
A paperback version os being worked on for those who prefer the feel of the paper while huddling by the fire – on your own – in the dark – with that noise behind you……
Another sale on Kindle of my Ghost Story collection! Check it out – for a taster click here. And the Softback version will be available soon.

A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Others are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.
Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.
Check it out at Amazon and other online e-book retailers.
A paperback version is being worked on for those who prefer the feel of the paper while huddling by the fire – on your own – in the dark – with that noise behind you……
Mist breathes on the moors
Then the new sun arises
Dissipates to green
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #123 Breathe&New
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge


A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Others are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge, and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.
Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.
Check it out at Amazon.
A paperback version is being worked on for those who prefer the feel of the paper while huddling by the fire, on your own, in the dark, with that noise behind you.

I am deeply honoured that poem of mine – topical for today – has been featured on the Thanet writers website.
It was originally written for Armistice day – then later a friend and I adapted it as a song and this is the version they have featured.
While we are remembering – we also said goodbye to some more legends today. Robert Vaughn – the Man From Uncle, and also one of my favourite all time singer/songwriters – Leonard Cohen.
This is my favourite – and with apt lyrics for today.

A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Others are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.
Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.
Check it out at Amazon and other online e-book retailers.
A paperback version is being worked on for those who prefer the feel of the paper while huddling by the fire – on your own – in the dark – with that noise behind you……
START
My god, my hands are dry
Must remember to buy some moisturiser
←——Insert fear
…
My god, my hands are dry
Must remember to buy some moisturiser
…
My god, my hands are dry
Must remember to buy some moisturiser
…
My god, my hands are dry
Must remember to buy some moisturiser
——–> extract money
…
RETURN TO START

Wherever words roam
Over fantastical lands
The heart rests at home.

A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Other are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.
Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.
#PoweredByIndie
Another blue birthday
Like his eyes
Two years as if yesterday
The memories of watching
Blue fading to darkness
Unlike his eyes
My memories will never fade
Watching dressing up
A mini ninja dancing
Whirling all in black
A day in the woods
Jumping in piles of brown leaves
Autumn brings us home
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #116 Home&Leaves
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Tarns tributaries tumble down
heather cloaked hills
red-brown tufts twitching in the wind
Cold water, cold air, eagle riding the high winds
Wolves range over moors
Sheep shiver, shepherds huddle
Fire crackles, broth steams
Tarns tributaries tumble down
heather cloaked hills
I am the hunter
The bringer down of prey
The destroyer
The shadow
The bringer of fear.
I am the master of war
The hoarder of riches
The steel lord
The holder of lightning
I am strength and glory
So why do I still struggle in vain
In response to the Daily prompt (from a few days ago!).
Plop, plop.
The sound echoes in the dark, reverberates around the cavern for many minutes after.
Yet, is it a sound? With no ears to hear? And are the ripples real if – in this absolute darkness no eye can see?
For this pool, this precious reservoir of pure water is deep beneath the troubled earth. The purest water known to humans – never to be known by humans.
Plop, plop.
It is far beyond their reach. In the roots of the world.
It is the last pure water in the world, the only unpolluted, uncontaminated pool.
As if drawn the last few clean drops seep down wind their way down the stalactites and…
Plop, plop.
No human ears to hear, no human eyes to see. Though every human tongue is craving, thirsting, it is beyond them.
Plop, plop.
No fish swims here. No life steals from this pool or invades its secrecy.
Plop, plop.
It is sealed away, safe.
Plop.
My life is being spent
Waiting outside shops
Herding kids
Driving
Working for reasons unknown
On maintenance
Not on friends or laughter
Not on relaxation
Not on health
Not on passions
Tick-tock, tick-tock
Life’s precious coin
Being spent
For very little change
