(Hour 22) 19.30pm-20.30pm. PROMPT, game: “title”

Prompt 22. Choose a title from the five offered. Write a poem. I have. & it may be the best poem of my career. Either that or I am incredibly tired. But let’s go with the former.

Möbius’ Strip

she sure wasn’t
the greatest dancer
in the world
or even the club

but she had this
amazing way
of bending minds
so you never knew

if she was taking clothes off
or putting them back on

Half way there.

Just finished the 12th poem. In the first 15 minutes. Which equals a glorious 45 minutes off. Perhaps I’ll nap.

A quick read over the night’s offerings reveals the verdict:

2 which are excellent & i’m very pleased with

4, that are better than

5, that are solid

& 1 that was always only ever intended as a joke

So all in all, i’m reasonably happy. How they’ll read after I’ve wiped off this sleep debt is anyone’s guess, but only my business.

Restward ho!

(Hour 08) 05.30-06.30am. PROMPT, form: “pantoum”


The task was write a Pantoum (a poem with a set rhyming pattern, as you will see). In a way I kind of cheated because some of us Marathoners were chatting in our facebook group about what snacks we had laid in for the next X hours & I mentioned I’d just opened some Lolly Gobble Bliss Bombs. On overseas poet didn’t know what they were, so I described them thus: “caramel & nut coated popcorn made by blissed out angels on permanent sugar highs 😂 ” … 10 minutes later we received the prompt – write a pantoum … & so gobble was born.


love my lolly gobble bliss bombs
nut & caramel coated popcorn
made by choirs of tripped out angels
singing love songs to sugar highs

nut & caramel coated popcorn
makes my brain oh so slightly dizzy
singing love songs to sugar highs
with my fingers all licky sticky

yes my brain oh so slightly dizzy
loves my lolly gobble bliss bombs
with fingers all licky sticky
tongued by choirs of trippy angels

It has begun …

Well, the first poem of (hopefully) 24 has been posted. I have 5 minutes before I need to start the next one.

Last year I had a theme & I posted every poem both here on my blog & again on the official Poetry Marathon page.

This year I am going to respond to the official poetry prompts & see where that takes me. I’m also not going to post every poem here for two reasons.

  1. It takes up too much time, something which gets pretty precious towards the end of the 24 hours.
  2. Some of the poems turned out okay, and even publishing them on a private blog can prevent them from being entered into some comps/submitted to certain journals, so I’d like to keep my options open.

I might occasionally during the mara, if I think any poem has sufficient charm, post a few here to share. But I need to stop waffling the next prompt is due any second & Poem 2 needs to get started …

Marathon Man 2

A little over 12 months ago, Adelaide Poet & real life marathoner, Mike Hopkins posted a link on facebook about this thing run out of the States — the “24 Hour Poetry Marathon”.

Last year I was very organised, tidied my desk up, bought plenty of food, precooked some meals, shaved, napped during the day, & was, as prepared as I could be (or so I thought) to try writing 24 poems in 24 hours.

Well in around 11 hours I’ll be trying it all again. Except this time, the desk’s a mess, no food is prepared (or even really in the house), I’m about to go out to a potentially boozy bbq, followed by a game of football for a team I don’t really barrack for & I have no plan & NFI.

I wonder which year will prove the most successful🙂


Star Wars Day — May the Fourth Be With You

gareth roi poet boi

A quick little birthday present poem for a young man I tutor/am mates with.


May the Fourth Be With You

i have a friend
proud to be
born today

while the light
might be nice
i always say

better to be
more like me
& born tomorrow

— then you can
celebrate the Revenge
of the Fifth



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Day 30 – The Last Thing Remaining on My List

Last night, dear friend & wonderful poet, Louise Nicholas, launched her first, very beautiful, full-length collection of poems, The List of Last Remaining through 5 Islands Press. It was a fabulous warm funny (mildly drunken) night.

Today, after dipping my way in & out of the collection, I have taken the last line of her poem, “How to scale a fish” & tweaked it to use as the title of today’s poem.

moonlight, unearthed

& so it’s come : to that time : of life : to once again : take out the tools of excavation : to dust off : my brooms & tiny brushes : sharpen my trowels : put pads on my ageing knees : & get down in the pit : in the dirt : dig down through the layers : the strata of my happiness : & my grief : to uncover the bones : & broken pottery : & terracotta floors : of true love : lost : of childhood : lost : of embryos : washed down drains : blood on thighs, over tiles, over everything : & to keep digging : until all that’s left to see : is an empty grave : a soul shaped hole : a silver wash : of moon : light : & salt

fish scales

Last line: “as if unearthed in moonlight”