Kissed If You’re Irish

Saint Patrick Catholic Church (Junction City, Ohio) – stained glass, Saint Patrick – detail. Taken from Wikipedia
They remember him as a saviour of his people.
“He drove out the snakes!”,
Vile filthy creatures,
Yet he was never one of them.
Though “they” never claimed him as their own
He was assigned to them by popular belief.

Popular belief is what he brought to them.
Drove out, burrowed in,
Blessed are the meek for they shall drink green beer.
‘Ye ken’t cull an Irishman mek’
Not without a belly full of Guinness ye ken’t
Ha! Kiss the blarney stone and me fat arse.

Born in Britain with a Roman rule
A man with a mission
A green isle to go
Get rid of all the sssinners
“He’s got God on his side [...]
Backin’ up from behind.”1
Taken by pirates
But brought there alive

So pinch me if you’ve heard it
Or punch me if ya ain’t
Saint Patrick’s festival is fit for a saint
With beer and spirits
Beef corned and cabbage
Driving snakes out of Ireland
In the back seat gathered.
Happiest of days to you
No matter where you’re from

Cause like Saint Paddy
You’re kissed if ye Irish
And arsed if ye not.

1 – Taken from “Missionary Man” by The Eurythmics


This is for a dVerse prompt: Your challenge for today, if you choose to accept it, is to choose any image, object, song, or concept from the post and use it to inspire a poem.

I chose St. Patrick and that he is not from Ireland born or raised. I hope you enjoy! 😊

Go Fetch

Image by Pexels from Pixabay
“It all belies our existence; we wait, and are still denied.”1

“C’mon Rover. That’s a little dramatic don’t you think?” asked Edward.

“A whistle blows, the ball is out of sight. Soon part of me will explore the deep and dark.”2

“Don’t be like that,” replied Edward.

Rover sat with his head on his hands. A sigh escaped his lungs to crawl along the floor and fade away.

“To have seen what I have seen, see what I see.3 No ball was found from where you did throw.”

Edward opened his hand. Inside was a ball, a tennis ball. Rover’s eyes looked up, a spark twinkled in his eye, his ears raised.

“Do you want the ball?” asked Edward.

“Most quiet need, by sun …”4

Edward pulled back his arm and threw. Rover dashed through the grass. In Edward’s hand the tennis ball sat.

This is for a dVerse prompt: To participate, you take the line of poetry that I will give you below and insert it into your prose. […]

For Prosery, your prose—fiction or nonfiction—may be up to 144 words, not including the title.

The line of poetry: “It all belies
Our existence; we wait, and are still denied.”

From
“Winter-Lull” by D.H. Lawrence

I used a few lines of poetry for this one:

  • 1 – from “Winter-Lull” by D.H. Lawrence
  • 2- from “The ball poem” by John Berryman
  • 3 – from “Hamlet” by Shakespeare
  • 4 – from “How Do I Love Thee?” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Pi Day 2026

Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay

3.141

Winter blows cold
Spring!
Watching from the corner
Boo!

As has been my practice for the past few years I have created a Pi Day poem. I use some form of the number Pi for the word structure and something to do with Pi or the day. Happy Pi Day 2026!


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Am I OverExposed?

Photo by Me
There’s something about being over exposed
That changes perception
The way others see you and the way you see yourself
Even in the plainest of things
You see them differently
When they are laid out too long in the sun
The light shining too bright, too long upon the eye

A field of simple cattails, browned by the passage of time
Their season nearly passed
Nothing remarkable, you’d not look twice as you drive by
Much as you drove by me, time after time
Yet when exposed
The light reveals as much as it takes away
The details fade but the contrasts shout

You notice things you did not before
Much as you noticed me when naked upon your floor
The small tufts of white upon the black fuzz of their heads
Now stand out, blown by the wind saying hello
Simple black and white
When you said everything is a shade of grey
Shows more than all the greyscale conversation shading

So I sit here, among the weeds
Exposed by your soliloquies
Lies told and truths unclothed
Showing the black among the white
All blending together
The foreground clear against a background black
Still unsure if you can see me

Am I Overexposed?

This is for a dVerse prompt: Your poetics challenge today is to incorporate a landscape or cityscape into your poetry that either mirrors or amplifies your interior landscape (or lack thereof).

When reading the prompt I knew I was going to use one of my pictures as inspiration, as I tend to take a lot of landscape photos. I chose this picture of a field of cattails. The original picture is a field of brown cattails on an winters pond. I edited the photo cranking up the exposure and making it black and white to get the picture above.

In exploring the picture and incorporating an interior landscape the poem becomes a bit of an ekphratic poem in that it not only uses the landscape but describes the picture which all together describes the interior landscape of the narrator. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 😊

44 Birds

Photo by Josewa Leonard James on Unsplash
44 birds fly in the sky.
Did you ever stop to wonder why?
Why don’t they fall?
Why 44 in all?
Whatever the reason is, let it be.
For 44 birds in the sky is reason enough for me.

Fly birds fly.
Good bye!

This was for a dVerse prompt: This one’s for the birds! Just sing us a poem of precisely 44 words (not counting the title), including some form of the word bird. Hope you enjoy! 😊

Hate Seeing You

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
I hate seeing you with another 
In the arms of some false lover
His arms around your waist
Your lips on his, so sweet the taste
I cringe, draw back in fear
How can you be with him with me so near?

This feeling new through my heart tears
No longer do we share life and heart's cares
No more memories shall we create
You were supposed to be my love's fate

This is how we end?
After all I've said, how can I be just a friend?
To be left all on my own
After all the seeds of love we had sown
Go on, one on one
Don’t seem like fun

I should accept it but I can’t
My feelings I can’t supplant
I need you to be alone
If I can’t have you at my home

cover of After All is Said ... A couple walking away from each other the guy looking towards the woman

After All is Said …

What’s left after you’ve been intimate? 30 poems that answer that question. Good, bad, worse & perfect, the response to what happens after intimacy. Know what happens After All is Said …

After All is Said . . . It’s Poetry! It’s relationships! It’s emotion! It’s short and accessible. You want to read this, trust me.
A collection of poems that says everything After All is Said …

We/Them

Image by Solie Jordan from Pixabay
You and I together as one
Ice cream and cone

Pronouns they/them
Me and you a team

I start a sentence
And you support my stance

You love me and I love you
The sugar to sweeten my yuzu

We even think the same
There for each other time after time

My love, heaven sent
Even in darkness you’d be my light

This is for a dVerse prompt: we are writing in two lines stanzas as rhyming couplets thus:

Poetry Rules:

Write at least 12 lines of poetry in couplets
separate the poem into couplets of 2 line stanzas
the couplets must rhyme but only using half or para rhymes [see examples below]

Poetry Options:

write about a specific or imaginary couple written from the perspective of they or we
or choose the notion of two as a topic

I hope you enjoy! 😊

This is actually me second attempt at the prompt. I wrote Hey April! before reading the second part of the Poetry Options. So there’s a bonus poem here: https://theauthorstew.ca/2026/03/06/hey-april/ !

Hey April!

Photo by Barbara Burgess on Unsplash. Edited by Me
To the beat of the drum
We do march to the bottom

The end of cold nights and black afternoons
I would see the rise of morning suns

In like a lion with the blood of the lamb
Tops round and spin, a rock rolls from a tomb

Daffodils sprout green shoots
Blue pills swallowed, no comments

Little warmer then back to cold
Not yet brittle ice for the swimming cod

Spring break, kids are free
It becomes a thing, like shouting fore

Time to march again, love was last month
No rhymes or gifts just feet that march

Hey April!

This was for a dVerse prompt: we are writing in two lines stanzas as rhyming couplets thus:

Poetry Rules:

Write at least 12 lines of poetry in couplets
separate the poem into couplets of 2 line stanzas
the couplets must rhyme but only using half or para rhymes [see examples below]

Poetry Options:

write about a specific or imaginary couple written from the perspective of they or we
or choose the notion of two as a topic

I wrote this but didn’t notice the second part about the poetry options. So I had redo it to the prompt. But I liked this one enough that I’m putting it out there too. So go read my second attempt We/Them but enjoy this bonus as well! 😁


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In a word or Two

Image by Florian Pircher from Pixabay
In a word
Or two
Just the sight of you
I can’t believe
Just you and me
The flowering trees
Bloom, fragrant as sunshine
As loud as the rolling seas
Crash into me
Make me move
The beating of your heart
The whole not just a part
Seems as such
That there is
Nothing missing
When I’m with you

This is from a dVerse prompt: Today we’re going to write in only phrases. The style and format of poem is up to you. I hope you enjoy. 😊

Travelers Through Nothingness

Image by AstroGraphix_Visuals from Pixabay edited by Me
Space, empty and black
Travelers through nothingness
Death is a journey

The plush faux leather chair made noise with every movement. They didn’t understand his fascination. They being everyone. He even had the smell of leather imparted into the fabric. Dead cow. He remembered the words said in disgust, almost like a slur, from the ambassador’s interpreter with a smile. He loved the chair and the reactions he got. 

His gaze swept along the room. Faux all around him. Faux mahogany, faux crystals, faux champagne behind a locked faux iron safe behind a faux Monet, well actually a print of a Monet but the sentiment was the same. Everything was fake aboard a starship. By necessity. When traveling through the emptiness of space and dark matter, efficiency was key. Supplies and space were limited. The banalities of the ego were sacrificed to the exigencies of space travel. 

He was stalling, he knew. He was supposed to be preparing the eulogy for one of the crew. A nice young man, hard working … Blah, blah, blah. They were all hard working, nice, people. Hell, you weren’t allowed to be part of the crew if you were a lazy, son of a bitch. That so many of them were young. And no matter how nice you were, how well you took orders, how hard you worked, sometimes being young meant you did something stupid. Sometimes doing something stupid cost you. Like sleeping with a Kuthula spin mistress. The human body isn’t meant for that kind of pressure, or velocity, and to be honest he wasn’t sure if the human body was meant for that much moisture either. 

“Dammit, I’m a captain not a speech writer!” he said to the empty room as his faux leather chair squeaked beneath him.

….

At the funeral he said all the right words. The platitudes and words of sorrow and comfort. The usual hollow homilies and recitations. And everyone gave the usual silent nods and down cast eyes, the gentle pats on the back and formal embraces. All the useless displays that did nothing to bring a person back or to help the living move forward. He felt useless. He hated feeling useless.

“He wanted me to let you know that you were a good captain and he’s sorry he messed up.”

He turned and looked into blue eyes the shade of dark calm seas. 

“And you are …? Wait, you are her. The spin mistress. I um. I’m glad you came. My um …”

“He lingers here, you know,” she said, tilting her head and moving her eyes to look around the area around them.

“Uh … yeah. Yes,” the captain replied.

She smiled gently, her blue eyes softening to a richer blue. “He hopes to prepare a better place for you, if you should happen to end up,” she spread her hands, “here.” 

“Uh, thank you, um him,” he said. He hoped his confusion did not come across to her as offensive. He did not believe her ideas but there was no reason to mention it. Diplomatic silence was one hallmark of a good captain. 

She bowed and turned to walk off. She looked back over her shoulder. 

“Dark matter is all around us. In between the vast spaces between our atoms. Look too closely and you’ll get lost; look from too far and it can’t be seen. But if you don’t look at all and just feel then you can navigate between dark and light as though they are one.”

With that she walked off into the crowd. The captain watched her as she became lost within the assemblage of people. He felt better. He didn’t know if he felt the presence of the young crew member who died. But perhaps that wasn’t the point. The point was to feel something. And that was enough. 


This was for a dVerse prompt: Write a haibun that alludes to the themes of the excerpts from Tracy K. Smith’s “Life on Mars.”

The first thing that resonated with me from the excerpts was the use of dark matter. There’s a very sciency, science fiction feel to the poetry which comes from her father being a scientist and working with space. I really picked up on that and wanted to run with it but in a sort of Star Trekish campy sort of way. The heavy themes of death and losing someone also played in. I hope you enjoy. 😊