Tag Archives: original

Blessings Counted (Stone Paucity Counterpart): An original poem

Freaky girl

Serving my servant with an ∑viction notice,

Peel yourself away from me,

Strip your bed so that I can strip mine,

Tip your head so that I can skip the countermine,

Feel your way along the wall,

Repair the way you belong to the small,

Pull your chin down,

Looking up is for the infant,

Looking around is for the infant,

Looking up the lineament is one day for the infant,

Join the dots and join the individuals,

  • J
  • o
  • i
  • n

your hands,

For the world is a playground so feel free to play,

But be reminded of the verdant horizons that construct a view,

An environ is the blackguards halo,

So where better to be contemptuous than in court?

Written by Just Mike

Ranked 34th in Talk Sport's top 50 funny men of 2013, Michael, or 'Mike' as he's affectionately known to millions, can often be found quaffing sugar water with former Pop Idol stud-cake Darius. A fine chap, with remarkable credentials.

Philosoracle: An original poem

The accusations of apathy linger and the pleasant blaze of the sun only serves as a temporary diversion from the confused actuality of our being. Pathways guilty of seducing the inner optical, all webbed in uncertainty, lie in wait as challenges which attempt to divert us from paramount ambitions.

Any coward can turn blind eyed from the obstacles and conjure another cookie cutter existence based on fear. As tempting as may seem the ease at which mediocrity can be attained, it is also ultimately fraught with unfulfillment.

In reality, it is those brief flashes of idiosyncrasy we all experience sporadically which allow us a glimpse into our uncorked potential and as a bi-product show the futility of residing within the safety of the flock.

Magic 8-ball
So many fear death and crave immortality, blissfully unaware that to live for eternity would merely serve as an excuse to delay our own progression, another reason to exist in the mundane rather than live in the extraordinary.

The select few are the ones who snub normality, aspiring not to merely bestow an imprint upon this Universe, instead electing to tattoo their initials in stardust and carve their philosophy from oak all over its axis.


Written by Dom Kureen

As a young rapscallion stranded on an Island, my time is split between writing, performing spoken word, wrestling alligators and delivering uplifting pep talks to hairdressers before they prune me. I meditate and wash daily when possible.