Something Different

I’ve been taking a break from poetry, mostly because I have been relatively content.

For me no pain no poetry is certainly the case.

Corona is raging again in my city of Canberra, Australia so being locked in I’ve found myself with a lot of spare time.

At some point I got inspired to do some drawing and to play around with photo shop. Stuff like this was the result…

I would love to have some feedback, comment, like and follow if you’re a fan.

Charles Bukowski

Every Friday I share a poem that I love and that inspires me. Today it’s Bukowski who taught me that poetry doesn’t have to be pretty and rhyming.

I’ve read a lot his poetry and this is one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Would love to know your thoughts on the poem and Bukowski in general.

Reds Release

 A little spark of goodness. 


It was Reds discharge 

The name they give  

To a beating administered 

The day before release 

A jail tradition 

Brutal and barbaric… 

As word got around 

Beloved as he was 

The yard put him through hell 

“You ready for your discharge mate?” 

He was visibly shaken 

When the hour came 

They packed into his cell 

To his immense credit 

He faced it well, 

Shaped up 

Ready for the fight 

They said “It’s time” 

And in a gesture 

I’ll never forget 

Instead of a black eye 

They gave him a group hug 

Sometimes jail can surprise you 

God bless those boys 

God bless Red 

God bless us all 

That made it through 

With a memory or two 

That shows it’s not all 

Doom and gloom 

This is a true story; Red was a good friend of mine and probably the funniest person I ever met locked up without being a clown. The whole thing shows that there is at least a little spark of goodness in an otherwise hostile and volatile place.  


God bless the modern-day kings and queens of the realm. 


The king of the realm 

Must be fearless, 

Thoughtful and strong 

Ruthless and wise 

It’s not about being the fastest 

The strongest or the smartest 

Though he is all those things 

What makes him king is his mentality, 

It’s not enough to just be the king 

He must feel like the king 

Live like the king 

Dream like the king 

The realm deserves 

A ruler that loves 

His people and his power 

Does not lament the lack  

Of ordinary anonymity 

But thrives on conquest 

And defense of his subjects 

His knights  

Are the loyal sword of his will 

And through them he rules 

With fortitude and valor 

There are those 

That would seek to overthrow 

Poison and clandestine daggers 

Haunt his steps 

But he is cunning 

Rewards loyalty with wealth 

Status and finery 

So that there is always someone 

Looking over his shoulder 

He carries a weight  

In his actions that is 

A blessing and a curse 

But his life is a celebration 

Of all that can be 

So God bless the regent 

And the wisdom he brings 

To wield power isn’t easy 

And all hail the king 


This one was a response to a prompt, largely inspired by the movie ‘The Gentleman’, the book ‘The Prince’ by Machiavelli and a random Mike Tyson quote. 

It’s a little different from my usual stuff but I hope it is welcomed for being so.  

God bless the modern-day kings and queens of the realm.


FOWC with Fandango — Realm ‹ This, That, and The Other ‹ Reader —


Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself. 


It was a risk 

When he threw the first punch 

The biggest guy in the yard 

The meanest too 

It was damned if you do 

Damned if you don’t 

Let it slide and he would look weak 

Take action and risk a beating 

Instinct took over 

Caught the bully off guard 

Throwing haymakers for a few 

Powerful moments 

Connecting with some 

Then easing off 

Surprised himself 

That his temper had flared 

Jail politics kicked in 

They couldn’t fight in the yard 

Had to go to a cell 

Where the screws can’t see 

In truth it was the last thing 

The lad wanted to do 

Locked in a confined space 

With a 6’4″psychopathic lifer 

But the risk if he didn’t 

Get moved to strict protection 

With the rock spiders and dogs 

So, he manned up 

Entered the cell and locked the door 

Took a beating 

Blood splattered up the wall 

The violence done 

A strange comradery emerges 

Between combatants 

A trip to the hospital 

A week in confinement 

And just another day 

In the life of a convict 


This is a true story, the protagonist is myself and the lifer someone I did a lot of time with and would later call a mate. 

It was strange, after the fight I got a lot more respect and inmates that had never given me the time of day wanted to buddy on. 

I find that anticipation of a fight is worse than the actual thing, the only real down side was explaining a black eye to my family at visits. 

Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself. 

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