Poetry

Life Hacked

Life hacked – a quiet whisper in the kitchen, a spoon turned lever, a jar lid loosened with a rubber band, the kettle’s whistle singing a reminder to pause, to breathe, to stretch,

Wreck

The bedroom's a wreck, let's be clear, Socks like seaweed, pizza smear, A half-drunk mug of cold tea, Where the remote's gone to be. The floor's a foggy, confused sea Of comics, a shoe, and

Dusty

Dusty corridors of forgotten rooms, Where sunlight sighs through cracked‑paned gloom, A hushed blanket of amber‑brown Cloaks the floor, the chair, the town’s old crown. In the attic’s breath, the moth‑worn trunks

Loath

Loath to rise when dawn pulls the curtains back, I linger in the quilt’s soft, muted grey, Each breath a hesitant sigh, a quiet crack Between the world’s loud call and my own

Bylaw

In council halls where quiet sits, A byelaw stands, its purpose writ— A gentle rule, in modest print, That guides the folk and steadies hint. From street‑side bins to park’s soft green, It

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