So it’s April and that means NaPoWriMo is once more upon us. I wrote this yesterday, but didn’t take the time to post it.


Hello again, my foe, my friend.

That time of year, I hope, I fear.

A time for dreamers, and for fighters and for those who wish to heal.

This dreadful fate I love I hate.

With pen in hand, again I stand.

Shape words for dreamers, and for fighters and for things so much more real.

But I demur, postpone, defer.

Try to avoid, obsessed, annoyed.

I write for dreamers, and for fighters and all those who fear to feel.

I write each word, ignored, or heard.

Be read or not, recalled, forgot.

I am the dreamers, and the fighters and all those whose souls I steal.

Now read each line, if not, that’s fine.

Each word by me, enslaved, now free.

Give to the dreamers and the fighters and to poets this appeal.

Come write your verse, or prose, or curse.

To free your heart, or mind, some part.

Art for the dreamers, and the fighters and to all your soul reveal.

Cheers, Winston


Courage, Forward

Just take a step,

One single step,

Each one leads to one more.

And with each step,

Each single step,

You’re farther than you were.

So take a chance,

Take just one chance,

You thought you’d never take.

Then find your life,

And seize that life,

Go live the life you make.

It’s harder far,

More work by far,

Than what these words imply.

But take that step,

Please take the step,

Lest regrets make you cry.

Cheers, Winston

Late Night Musing

Working as a security guard late at night gives the brain time to wander. 
<u>The Nightguards’ Lament </u>

A wind through empty windows shifts

Some hanging plastic sheets. 

As rhythmic as the crashing surf. 

Sounds almost like heartbeats. 
It’s late so very late at night

In truth more early morn. 

I walk alone through cold stone halls

So empty and forlorn. 
If ever was a place to haunt

This place is surely it. 

Where specters stalk and spirits roam

And through the shadows flit. 
And as I walk may glimpse them from

The corner of my eye. 

May feel their breath upon my neck 

Or hear their mournful sigh. 
It’s late so very late at night

And all is deathly still. 

Even the wind has ceased to blow

So why this sudden chill? 
What is this shape where none should be?

In shadow darker yet. 

It cannot move I saw it move! 

A sudden clammy sweat. 
There’s nothing there it’s just a trick

That my eyes play on me. 

I tell  myself this lie again

Deny the things I see. 
I do my rounds and tell myself

It’s just an empty hall. 

Some beers and sleep will prove that it

Was nothing after all. 
Cheers Winston. 

What Am I Doing?

I mean really… What the heck am I thinking. I made it through April by the skin of my teeth, yet here I am writing another verse. Sometimes I really wonder about me.


Our Own Worst Enemy

Technology is not the foe,

it’s not your enemy.

That AI that you dread so much,

is far less threat than me.


The science that grows beef in labs,

and soy that bugs won’t eat.

Is building apps to help the blind,

and other needs to meet.


It’s not the tech that ends us all,

but what we do with it.

It’s our own inhumanity,

will make our future shit.


A hammer’s just a hammer and,

can’t care what it’s used for.

The person using it decides,

to build or start a war.


All tech comes down to this same choice,

that shapes our future days.

To kill or cure, to build or burn,

I pray we change our ways.


Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day 30

It’s strange how fast time goes sometimes. It seems like it was only this morning that I was writing the poem for Day 26. Funny how that works eh? Ah well, if I can get past this last blank page, I’ll have made my deadline. Let’s see what’s left in the bottle… shall we?


Lynn My Love

My love again you are the one,

I turn to in my need.

The inspiration for my life,

you are my muse indeed.


When I can’t think of what to write,

need only think of you.

And sure enough the blocks dissolve,

to let the words flow through,


I love you Lynn you are my life,

make all I do worthwhile.

The greatest gifts that I’ll receive,

are your love and your smile.


So thank you once again my love,

for all the joy you bring.

You are the Sun and Moon to me,

you are my everything.


Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day 29

I think I mentioned last time that things get a little strange once the creativity starts flowing. Well, hopefully I can finish on a slightly more normal note.


A Note To My Therapist

A dream perhaps and yet more real,

than I have known before.

How can I know the truth of it,

what’s dream and what is more.


In dreams I often tell myself,

“You’re dreaming never fear.”

But what if I am wrong and this,

is false, the dream is here.


What if rules and common sense,

are only in my head.

And all the chaos I call dreams,

is really real instead.


There’s no answer that I can find,

no way to truly know.

So I’ll just choose the one I like,

and that’s where I will go.


So if you come and I have gone,

it’s true I’ve only woke.

It’s you who’s trapped within a dream,

the punchline to my joke.


Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day 28

Sometimes when I wrench open the creative valve, the weirdest things get washed out.


On Ghosthunters

A figure faintly seen at night,

there in the empty place.

If you could gain a closer view,

would you gaze on it’s face?


It walks there every night alone,

even when it’s not seen.

Would you it’s solitude invade,

are you in truth that keen?


Perhaps its solitude it craves,

just wants its well earned peace.

Not closure for its life on earth,

not waiting on release.


Perhaps that place it haunts is home,

where hangs its phantom hat.

And you are mere trespassers there,

Have you considered that?


So take your tools and pack  your bags,

go back where you came from.

This haunt is ours and here it stays,

it’s you who’s not welcome.


Cheers, Winston