A congregation at prayer

or a jury of his peers?

Either way a hard thing

to unravel when tangled are

the silken threads of notions.

Were it his requiem then he

should be at rest not at sea


Her lover had pawned a

blue blood’s pickpocketed

silver and amethyst locket

was shipped to Botany Bay

to atone for that small sin.

In spite of her destitution

she inexplicably blossomed.

Of her the natives heard tell

she had once touched the

breath of Helios, reawakening a

dying star; resurrecting it’s moon

such was her exalted alchemy


To a transported convict a

dour Oceanic penal colony

serving out his lifetime at

His ‘Mad’ Majesty’s pleasure

home was where the head is

hard labour and imaginings a

poor surrogate for dignity lost.

A smuggled, debased liaison

with a luckless shared abstinent

courtesan a transgression more

loathsome than a trinket’s theft.

No laughter lines encasing the

forsaken eyes of the reprobate


Unspoken incantations

a click of the fingers and

from forest floor embers

a spark compels an inferno

and her phoenix has risen

from the other side of the earth.

He, her flawless aberration





    1. Possibly one of my lot was one of the first! I was doing a bit of family research a few years back and found details of an 18 year old ‘Steeden’ from London (our area back then) with the same forename as my Dad and many in his family line sentenced to death for nicking a piece of jewelry. I couldn’t find any evidence of him hanging but many sentenced back then were shipped off to Australia! Sadly the records back 250 years are not all that!

  1. HI Mike,
    I recognized your blog today 6/7/15 and gave it an award. Feel free to answer 5 questions about yourself and nominate 5 blogs you enjoy. I do not ever follow the rules so do not feel bad if you want to approach the award in your own unique way. You rock!

    1. I’ve just been reading your blog notes generally and note with interest that the desire to place positives ahead of their opposite is very strong and serves, I think to inspire others…plainly that is a good thing; a gift even. Which of course makes me feel even more guilty when I say thank you so much for thinking of me but I don’t take awards! My reason being that it makes blogging for me a little too serious…I am after all a mere idiot writing for ‘fun’. However and I do stress this, please do not think me churlish or ungrateful in any way for the fact you thought of me means a lot and you have my eternal respect.

      1. Mike I am like you. I received many awards over the course of my blogging and it is a kind gesture . I don’t usually do these kind of posts. I actually took the post and made it my own . However I have found your blog to be interesting when I pop over there and thought others might too! Take care and enjoy the honor!!!

    2. Unless I’m going insane I believe I replied to this already! As I write I’m off to catch the Eurotunnel train and shall not be about for a weeks or so…I know I replied…sure I did!

  2. Hmm…I see from a comment you are keeping it in the family! Seriously very unusual, haunting, …wonderful really and one to ponder. Quel imaginative gent you are Mike. x

    1. Cheers young Shehanne! I shall be away from the blog for a couple of weeks from tomorrow as we have a bloke due in to put new radiators in plus another one contemplating floorboards! It is thus that France beckons and the place we are renting there ‘boasts’ a thing named ‘occasional internet’! I shall do a bit blog reading where I can plus Shirley is insisting (she has been for an age now) that I put a few bits and pieces in some book form in order that the grandchildren etc. can one day reflect upon what an old fool I am/was! Should be fun…or boring…yet to find out! I will endeavour not to miss my beloved hamsters though!

      1. oh do enjoy yourself…… As for the book..will you do that? You are so exquisitely talented. I mean that. I read a lot of poetry buts yours never fails to hit the mark. You really should have your work out there .

      2. Thank you. I shall put my favourite poems in one; the the silly verses in another and hopefully get some paperback copies for the family…I don’t think I could go through the trauma of actually marketing them…would feel like hard work…I did all that with the business and the thought of doing it again scares the living s**t out of me – plus I’ve got to work out how to do this getting paperback from A4 copy thing! It will be a hoot or a disaster!

    2. Mike…this is the most brutal biz I say that from the bottom of my cankered heart. I gave up on the hard marketing the second I set foot on the fecking alien tentacles this biz also expects but whatever you do, I would happily buy a copy of your work, I would punt it blind on street corners. I know you have been around what we — up here– call the block but Shirl is right re this. You are so fooking talented. End of. And fook ( I am awfie polite) others will not only market yah, they will have you on their blog wi hamstahs and all. Anyway, what ever the hell you decide it will NOT be a disaster xxxx

      1. Thank you for that…my ego is soaring now! To France with a memory stick and an editing hat on methinks…I shall name it ‘Gentleman Prefer a Pulse’ and once done and dusted give it to son PC very literate George and let him do the donkey work!

  3. Lovely words, Mike… I love the juxtaposition of the two “voices”… Australia has such a rich history!

  4. she had once touched the

    breath of Helios, reawakening a

    dying star; resurrecting it’s moon

    such was her exalted alchemy

    I once knew that young lady, but she died one day in a dusty Oregon town of a cancer that would not go away. While she lived, she did indeed have an exalted alchemy.

    1. ‘I once knew that young lady, but she died one day in a dusty Oregon town of a cancer that would not go away. While she lived, she did indeed have an exalted alchemy’ – far better words than mine Sir…far better

      1. A sad thing indeed…I spent many years as a PI and the cases I worried most about were those of the adopted seeking out birth parents only to have to report back the news that I’d found them yet they were no more…hated putting a note of my charges in on those ones.

      2. Birth parents living or dead, those for whom you were working now had a history. That had a family however the term may be construed, a tie to the past. The unknown was put to rest. That had to have had value even if not immediately apparent.

      3. Very true…tis being the messenger who wanted to deliver a better message that irked…mind one American lady for who I did find an alive and well birth mum 40 years on the missing list here in the UK did write us a letter saying it was the best money she ever spent!

    1. Thanks again, David. When I was doing some family history research I discovered one of my own from back in they day. He was sentenced to death for stealing a ring. In the end he was never hanged, they sent him to Botany Bay instead. The poor lad was only 15 years old.

    1. That’s a truth if there ever was one. I couldn’t agree more. The British were also quite handy when it came to globalising the once ‘cottage’ industry called the slave trade.

  5. They drove my forebears
    off their ancestral lands
    so Queen Victoria could have a nice uninterrupted
    View from Balmoral Castle.
    And so the english robber
    barons could run sheep &
    cattle. In revenge( served
    cold) I wrote a blog called
    ‘Laird of Bonnie Doon’.

    1. Why am I not surprised? Scotland, Ireland and anywhere that took their fancy. I’m English by the way…well, once it’s official that they’ve stolen my European identity.

    1. Nice one, David. I apologize on behalf of my wretched countrymen. I discovered that in 1785 we had a gypsy, Eliza Mean, spawn a dozen of my own. My dear mother (long since snuffed it) stressed that the news should be kept a family secret…I told everyone I was proud of the gypsy lady with the amazing name.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s