Travelling through Morocco – a few more photos of the Kasbah taourirt in Ouarzazate

I was so impressed with the architecture and beauty of this Kasbah. You got a glimpse of history as you walked through its lavish rooms with their decorated ceilings. I could imagine them seated on their couches, laid back with hookahs, with music and dancing, a feast in front of them, making deals, entertaining and pulling out all the stops to impress.


An older Kasbah whose mud walls are melting back into the ground


Reawakening – The sequel to God’s Bolt.

This was written as both a stand alone and a sequel to God’s Bolt.

It tells the story of Helen Southcote’s journey through the solar system and out to the stars.

It too is available in both paperback and digital on Amazon.

Here is the opening section:

Year 0 Day 1 – 2325


I opened my eyes to discover I was in my own room. It gave me such a shock that I quickly closed them again. That could not possibly be right, could it? I mean, I had to be dreaming.

I lay there with my heart thumping trying to gather the courage to open my eyes again.

That room no longer existed. It was my room from 2159 when I was fourteen. I’d recognised it straight away. It even smelt right. It felt right. The bed felt right. All those things that I’d totally forgotten, that were lost in the depths of time but which were flooding back to me down the distant corridors of history through some ninety two years. It had given me such a shock.

This time I opened my eyes slowly and deliberately, braced for what I was about to see.

It was still there. It was definitely my room down to the smallest detail. There were even the scratches on the paintwork by the door where Woody, my beautiful collie dog, used to scratch to be let out.

I couldn’t have been more shocked if I’d bumped into a tyrannosaurus. I’d seen one of those in the reconstruction zoo, subtly called Jurassic Park after some film that had been made centuries before I was born.

I allowed my eyes to roam around taking it all in and rediscovering all those tiny details that I had long forgotten. They were all resurfacing as I looked – those strange lights that I’d taken a liking too, the garish colours of the walls. What had I been thinking? Orange and green. How could I ever have thought that was cool? The patterned carpet that made your eyes go funny. There was definitely something weird that happens to adolescent minds. They go very strange. But how did my parents allow me to do it? They really did indulge me, didn’t they? – Much more than I’d appreciated at the time.

I looked over to the large mural of Carl Sagan that dominated the wall opposite. My hero Carl held pride of place. Around him were my favourite Zook and Zygobeat bands of the day. I remember I had quite a crush on Zed from Isobar. He had the coolest hair and sweetest face. I adored him. Well looking at him now he just looked like a simpering little kid, barely out of nappies. My Dad used to be very disdainful of Isobar. ‘Computer slush for slushy minds’ he used to say, much to my fury. I used to retaliate calling his music ‘archaic noise for the demented’. He used to laugh – which only made it worse.

I edged myself up in bed. I felt so weak.

I looked around for Woody, my dog, but he wasn’t there. He usually lay curled up asleep at the side of my bed. I half expected my Mum to call up from downstairs to tell me to get up; it was time to catch the scud to school, or my Dad to start chiding. What was going on? I expected to hear my brother Rich mumbling and grumbling from his stinking pit across the landing that resembled a rubbish tip, only smellier. He hated getting up while it was still daylight. I thought about my older brother Joe who was away at Uni.

Everything was so right and that’s what made it so wrong. This could not possibly be happening. This room did not exist. Not only was it a throwback to my room from some ninety odd years ago, that had seen so many transformations as I’d grown up and then left home – this being just one incarnation among the many – an incarnation that was buried under layers of decorative archaeology by the time I last visited home. It was also a room that had been completely destroyed when God’s Bolt, that damn fucking asteroid, had wiped out the Earth all those years ago.

So how was I here?

I eased myself up in bed and sat propped up against the wall. My heart had slowed down but my mind was still racing.

I noticed my hands. You get used to seeing your own hands. They are not very attractive as you get old. All those brown splodges of liver spots, and your knuckles all swollen and lumpy, your skin all crinkled and leathery, like some dry, wrinkly tissue paper that you could never get smooth and soft again no matter how much lotion you use. But these were not like that. They were a young woman’s hands. Not the hands of the slip of a girl I was when I had this room, the hands of a mature young woman. I recognised them too, even though I had not seen them for some eighty years or more.

I got out of bed, walked across the room, or should I say tottered, I felt so weak I thought I was going to collapse at any moment, having to rest a hand on the bed in order to keep my balance, and opened my wardrobe to look in the mirror. My hair was a straggly mess but the body and face that peered back at me was that of the twenty year old Helen Southcote that used to be.

‘Eunice,’ I called, ogling this body I had not laid eyes on for over eighty years, ‘what have you done?’

Thank you for reading.


In the USA:




Quantum Fever – my latest Sci-fi book.

I have now started work on the rewrite of this new book.  Any views would be much appreciated.

This is the second section:

Tow Ragg had his office at the far end of his palatial floating mansion where he could look out over Haven, their home planet and the capital planet of their system – affectionately called The System. He liked nothing better than to gloat over the masses below. Not that there was a lot to see, the surface was always a construction site. The surface that Tow looked out on was the bare Plexiglas that formed the upper tier of what was now the planet, and work was always going on adding another tier to the ever growing edifice. It was hard to imagine what the place had once looked like. Right down through those layers of dwellings, underneath it all, was the actual surface of the planet. It did not seem real. But Tow could visualise the honeycomb of doms, layer after layer that went down hundreds of layers deep until you hit the bedrock of the long unseen surface, and that gave him great satisfaction.

His floating home was positioned high up in the stratosphere overlooking his home world. A great dome encased the whole massive development. His mansion was constructed to one side of the great dome. It had many rooms, with the servants occupying a separate wing while his wives and children occupied another leaving him undisturbed in the centre to go about his business uninterrupted.

In front of the house was the massive heated swimming pool, cum lake, where every morning, at seven sharp, he performed his exercise by briskly swimming forty lengths.

Around it were the gardens. He had commissioned flora to be reconstructed from the data banks of Haven – one of only ten such places in existence. He even had colourful tweezes flitting back and forth – just a few, enough to impress. You did not want to overdo such things.

The magnificence of the floating mansion was unimaginable to the trillions who spent their lives buried in the cramped quarters underground – and that was what always gave him the greatest satisfaction.

‘They have arrived safely,’ Tow Ragg reported, using her encrypted communicator.

‘Good,’ Eldy Mors replied, the relief evident in his voice. ‘It is always tense.’

‘We have a lot invested in this,’ Rhad Flik stated, her anxiety clearly on display.

The three of them were the controlling powerhouse of the business enterprise, known as the Consortium, which employed Tahsin Roeg, and other Starship Captains, just like her. Theirs was the empire that had made them all obscenely rich.

Tow laughed. ‘Not enough to make a dent in your wad,’ she said teasingly. Rhad Flik had a reputation for being miserly. She resented every single credit wasted and begrudged spending every last one – even if the returns were exceptional. To her money had to be deployed to maximum effect. She played the game with an intensity that the others couldn’t match. For Rhad it was all about winning, accruing and investing. That was what she lived for. Every new launch was a fraught experience for her. She stood to lose billions. The fact that she could make trillions if it was successful was irrelevant. A few billion was a microbe on an agar dish to her. She could lose it a million times and she wouldn’t miss it. But even so she loathed losing. Making vast profits – that’s what gave her the adrenalin rush. That’s why she did it. But still she begrudged the billions necessary to carry out the project. She wanted every cred accounted for. Her miserly attitude made her the butt of many jokes but she could not see it.

Despite the huge fortune she had amassed every jump was still a nerve wracking experience for her. She lived it second by second, in a terrible state, on tenterhooks as if her life depended on it, waiting for news that the ship had emerged.

‘You know how precarious these jumps are,’ Rhad muttered resentfully. She did not appreciate being teased.

‘And Roeg?’ Eldy Mors enquired.

‘She seems to be holding up,’ Tow replied tentatively. ‘We’ll know more in due course.’

‘We’ve had a good return from her,’ Eldy noted. ‘But I wonder if we should not rest her up now?’

‘We’ll see,’ Tow replied thoughtfully. ‘She’s the best we’ve had. Nobody has been more successful.’

‘Yes, but we shouldn’t push our luck,’ Eldy suggested.

‘We can’t afford to lose a starship,’ Rhad Flik chipped in.

Tow laughed again with that annoying chuckle that really grated on Rhad. ‘Starships are ten a cred, Rhad. We can commission a new one for a mere trillion. It is starship commanders that are the real difficult gold dust. That’s the limiting factor. We’ve only got twenty of them and they are not so easy to replace. You can’t train them. You can’t breed them. You have to discover them and they’re rarer than sane politicians.’

‘So what’s the situation?’ Eldy Mors enquired, changing the subject.

‘They’ve emerged,’ Tow reported. ‘The ship and crew are intact and there are no reports of anything untoward. Tahsin Roeg seems to have pulled it off again. It appears every molecule has arrived. She’s left nothing back in quantum.’

They listened intently.

‘They are already deploying the gate. It will take several months to consolidate and connect, as you know, but the process is in hand.’

That was always the first consideration. The gate had to be deployed. That enabled the conglomerates to follow through and begin the process of harvesting. The gate was the crucial thing. Even if a ship was crippled and the crew badly disabled by a poorly executed emergence it was still sometimes possible to deploy a gate.

‘And the system?’ Rhad Flik asked impatiently. The bottom line was always the profitability with her. She was dying to know what sort of return she was going to get on her investment. Having planets to harvest could be extremely lucrative. Once the gate was established they could plunder the resources. The real bonanza was to discover a planet that could be colonised. If it was feasible, in terms of cost, to create an atmosphere and make a planet habitable, they could put in the tiers and create massive condominium developments that could prove extremely lucrative. That’s where the real money was to be made – catering for the consumers. Housing was always at a premium.

‘As we already know,’ Tow replied, a little tinkle in his voice. ‘Four gas giants, four rocky planets, three of which might be suitable for colonising, and four planetoids which might also prove good for harvesting. There’s no way we’re going to come out of this without a whacking great profit.’ He was already feeling ecstatic. The difficult part was over.

‘But are they as good as was indicated,’ Rhad asked eagerly. Already the figures were spinning around in her head. The trillions were mounting. This system had real promise. There was a killing to be made and she knew it. This one had looked like a real bonanza.

‘Rhad dear,’ Tow replied, unable to refrain from chuckling. ‘It is far too early to know anything more. Give them a chance to carry out the analysis. They’ve only just arrived. Rest assured – there will be plenty to harvest on this one. We’ll have our bellyful of ammonia, water, hydrogen and the full gamut of metals. It’ll fill the coffers to overflowing.’

‘But are any of those rocky planets habitable?’ Rhad pressed, unable to stop herself.

‘We don’t know,’ Tow said with amusement. ‘Three of them look like good possibilities. We’ll know more when they’ve done a recce. Don’t worry your head. We’ll come out of this one with a really good profit. You can rest assured on that.’

‘I think we should inform the consortium,’ Eldy Mors interrupted. ‘They need to know that the starship has emerged safely.’

‘Already done,’ Tow informed him. ‘The consortium is fully in the picture. I’ve already flashed them. They know their investments are safe.’

‘Such a good idea,’ Rhad said meditatively, ‘to spread the costs across many millions of investors while accruing the bulk of the profits among us three.’

‘Well all those investors stand to make a good return on their money too,’ Tow asserted happily. The emergence had put her in a really good mood. He could already smell the profits pouring in. ‘But we deserve the graaf’s share. We’ve made the decisions and organised the whole thing. They’re just hanging on the back of our tunics. There’s millions more eager to get involved if they don’t want in on it. We direct the operation. We deserve every credit we get, don’t we Rhad?’

Rhad nodded in agreement, not registering that Tow was pulling her string, and the tridee image of her that hovered alongside the image of Eldy Mors on Tow Ragg’s desk, narrowed her eyes thoughtfully as she contemplated the slice of the profits that would be heading her way. ‘Just as long as we screw every cred out of this project we can – to make it really worthwhile.’


Quantum Fever – my new Sci-fi novel.

Phew – I have just completed the first draft of a new Sci-fi novel this afternoon!

This one is called Quantum Fever. It all came to me in a rush when two ideas collided in my head. It all flowed from there.

I started writing it and then seemed to lose the thread. But fortunately it all fell back into place. It is always a joyous relief to complete a novel

So – this is where I would appreciate your assistance. If you could run your eyes over the opening section and tell me what would be the best way of addressing it in the rewrite.

Cheers – all thoughts gratefully received.

Chapter 1


‘I think they know I’m on to them,’ I thought to myself as I prepared to initiate the risky business of guiding the Starship Explorer out of Quantum Space. It was not a good thought to have in one’s head at such a time. We had been travelling through the quantum fields, jumping the folds of space. It was time to emerge into linear space again – a task that was fraught with danger and required my complete concentration. Any stray thought at such a time was a distraction that could prove fatal for us all. Grimly I pushed the intrusion to one side and refocussed my mind.

I gripped the controls tightly and allowed the impulses to flow through me. My training kicked in and I felt myself entering the bubble as my focus became intense. The control room faded away. My mind gelled with the controls and through them into the ship’s instruments and out into the universe beyond. I found myself unified. All thoughts were quelled. I was one with the ship’s computer. Its sensors, motors and systems were melded with my mind. Through them I was able to clearly see our destination beyond, laid out in colours and shapes. In the quantum world everything constantly changed but I could still discern the pattern I wanted. I am still not sure how we Starship Commanders did it. There was some intuitive element that could not be taught. Not many people could achieve this concentrated sense of being, even with all the training in the world. Somehow I was able to gather myself, the ship and its crew, and latch on to the destination pattern and bring us all together. Through the ship’s computer I could control everything at will and secure the merger. It was an exceedingly rare skill.

Our task on this mission was to explore sector XLP12. The astronomers reckoned it looked very fruitful and ripe for harvesting.

There were only twenty starships; the limit being the rarity of Commanders like myself. We were a rare breed. Quantum jumping was a feat requiring a certain mind and it carried a high rate of attrition. Even using all of the vast resources of the Empire it was still only possible to commission a mere twenty Starships. Despite all our thousands of worlds monitoring all potential children for the training programme we only just managed to replace the experienced Commanders, as they expired, with new recruits. The training programme, even with maximised Immersive Education, took many years. Building Starships was not a problem. It was no wonder that we Starship Commanders were in great demand and held in such high esteem. The whole System depended on a constant stream of new resources. Their own resources were nowhere near sufficient. They could not even sustain the very air, water and food. All required constant replenishing from outside. Without a constant new supply of materials the whole system would collapse.

We were vital.

Our astronomers identified likely areas of our galaxy to explore and our intrepid Starship Commanders carried out the business. While the astronomers could identify likely planets for colonisation or harvesting it wasn’t until we actually arrived and were able to do detailed surveys that we were able to check the viability of the proposition. Sometimes a solar system was not as lucrative a proposition as it might have appeared from afar. For that is what it was really about. We were mercenaries, employed by large business concerns. We sought to provide profit for our employers.

Our small number of craft, each with its crew of six, rode the quantum universe, skimming the waves of space, and emerged into the selected sectors. Once having carried out the process successfully we could then lay down a gate for others to safely follow. Our job was to explore, identify potential and point the way for the conglomerate harvesters to follow in our wake. We searched for either resources or worlds to colonise.

Unfortunately this pioneering work was dangerous. Many ships failed to materialise again into linear space and were presumed lost for ever in the sea of quantum strangeness – a universe too weird to contemplate.

On top of that many Starship Commanders came back altered, driven mad by the experience of touching that strange quantum universe. They went mad – a condition known as Quantum Fever.

Our life expectancy as a Starship Commander was limited, usually only lasting a handful of years. Indeed, I was among the most experienced. I knew my days were numbered. Each trip was like playing Zen roulette. But the Empire needed servicing. It was expanding ever faster and without the resources we discovered it could not possibly sustain its relentless growth. We had to find those resources – the metals, organics, water and gases. We also had to identify worlds that were worthy of being colonised, to provide homes for the burgeoning population.

The pushing back of boundaries was driven by gritty determination as the Empire possessed an inexhaustible thirst for expansion, and we were that forefront. In my early days I had felt like an intrepid pioneer. But that had soon passed.

While in that bubble I held it all in my mind – the pattern of our destination, the Starship itself, the crew and all that was contained; I held it together and guided us through to the point at the centre of that pattern. I could not afford to leave any part behind. It was a massive effort and responsibility. Emerging from quantum travel was never easy. Bringing everything back into that oneness at the quantum point was so difficult, and it never became easier no matter how many times you performed it. This was now my two hundred and twelfth such trip and my experience only seemed to confirm that the universe always proved stranger and more dangerous that anyone could possibly have predicted.

I felt the ship judder as if attuning itself back in the reality of linear space. It was a judder that went straight through me as if my mind was also realigning itself in reality. But it was a judder that was familiar and came as a huge relief.

We were back.

I felt myself relax. Being the vanguard of an operation was not an easy job. There was no telling what you might find when you emerged. It was highly unlikely but we could emerge to find ourselves in the midst of a stellar catastrophe. The light from those stars took thousands of years to reach Haven, our home planet, anything could have happened in the intervening time. Not that I allowed myself to worry about that any too much. Just controlling the variables for us to emerge was an exceedingly taxing experience that left me feeling drained of energy as if I had poured all my own resources into achieving it. I had to trust to luck for the rest. The odds were with us.

But we were safe. Nothing untoward had occurred.

I sat at the controls, released my grip and allowed myself to relax. I could hear the buzz of the command room again. The ship was alive with its usual familiar noise. The crew were already deploying their equipment to check on our surrounds. The gate was already in the process of being deployed. There had not been any calamities that I could detect. You never knew quite what to expect when you emerged into a new sector but it looked as if we were lucky again.

‘Well done Skip,’ Mant Damsin, my assistant Commander, muttered approvingly.

I sat with my hands lightly resting on the controls and examined my mind to see if I could detect any changes – any signs of that dreaded Quantum Fever that we were so prone to.

It was OK. I felt just as crazy as I’d ever been.

Then that thought resurfaced. I think they know I am on to them and I also thought that they were on to me.


Time if you please – a poem

Time if you please

Meg had been the landlord
Of the Rancid Stoat and Quail
But now at ninety five
She wasn’t pulling ale.

T’was the fire that she was craving
That kept her old bones well.
These days she just huddled close
And listened to the tales.

She’d had a happy childhood
With her sisters, mum and dad.
Wild in the countryside –
Life hadn’t been so bad.

And when she’d been a-courtin’
She’d had her share of bliss
Dancing with the lads
And sharing many a kiss.

But she’d settled down
With her handsome husband Syd
And working well together
Had created many a kid.

Those had been the happiest days
With her family all around.
A house so full of gaiety
Where laughter was the sound.

No matter how they’d grown
No matter how big they were
Even with families of their own,
They were still just kids to her.

She wondered where the time had gone
The years had flown so fast.
But they were full and happy days
When dwelling on the past.

But now her body lurched.
She felt her heart jerk.
Her whole world was spinning
Before a gathering murk.

With a sigh she slid
From her chair down to her knees
As a voice in her head called:
‘Time – Time if you please!’


This was a title with my writing group. I started to write something funny (as can be seen from the rancid stoat) but I was kind of caught up in a little sentimental story and this is how it came out.
Time was what they used to call in the pubs and ring their bell to signal last orders.
One day it will be time for us all.

Warm Fuzzies – A Modern Fairy Tale

This is my version of a great book by  Claude Steiner that is unfortunately out of print. I would highly recommend it.

I first heard about it in a training session for the Humberside PSHE trainers for which I was fortunate enough to have been selected.

At the time I did not know it was based on this great story by Claude Steiner. The story is available on line in PDF form.

Have a read. You’ll love it!

Warm Fuzzies – a Fairy Story.

Once upon a time there was a little land far far away where a community of people lived very happily. They had been blessed by having a wise wizard who provided each one of them at birth with a bag they always carried around with them. The bag contained little orange glowing furry creatures called Warm Fuzzies.

Whenever people met they would ask to have a Warm Fuzzy, and they were always freely given. Just holding a Warm Fuzzy sent a feeling of joy and well-being through a person. The Warm Fuzzy would melt yinto your heart and fill you with love. People enjoyed meeting and exchanging their Warm Fuzzies.

If people did not regularly get to hold a Warm Fuzzy they grew sick, withered away and died. So everyone made sure that they all were given enough Warm Fuzzies to make them happy and healthy.

The people in the land were always happy and joyful. Life was good. The Warm Fuzzies gave them energy, confidence, love and everything they wanted.

Then one day the wise wizard was called away. But life went on much as before. The people went about their business and prospered. It was the most joyful land in the whole world. The Warm Fuzzies provided everything they needed.

Then one day a wizard came in from a land outside the pleasant valley. He too carried a bag with him but his bag was full of spiky blue creatures called Cold Pricklies.

The Cold Pricklies stopped people getting sick, withering away and dying, but did not make them feel good. Indeed, they made people feel gloomy and miserable.

The wicked wizard watched the people going about their business and he was not happy. He felt they did not deserve their joy. They had not earnt it. He did not like the Warm Fuzzies.

The wicked wizard, for that’s what he was, set about establishing himself in the community. He never missed an opportunity to upset or disrupt.

He slyly started with the children.

‘There are only so many Warm Fuzzies,’ he told the children. ‘If you give all your Warm Fuzzies away you won’t have enough for yourself. You might wither and die.’

The children became very worried. They had thought they had an inexhaustible supply of Warm Fuzzies. Nobody had ever before that they could run out. It made them frightened and more wary about giving their Warm Furries away. They became less willing to part with them.

‘Look, the wicked wizard said, ‘Notice how John and Christine are happy to take Warm Fuzzies but rarely give one in exchange.’

The children hadn’t noticed this before but now they took note and were suspicious of each other. Arguments arose between them. Children were accused of hoarding Warm Fuzzies and not giving them out.

The wicked Wizard gave the children Cold Pricklies.

‘You can never run out of Cold Pricklies,’ he told them. ‘There is an endless supply. They stop people getting sick and dying. If someone asks you for a Warm Fuzzy you can give them a Cold Prickly instead – that way you can keep your Warm Fuzzies safe and not be in fear of ever running out.’

The children thought this was good advice. They stopped giving away their Warm Fuzzies and instead started giving Cold Pricklies when asked. Soon everyone in the whole kingdom was carrying around Cold Pricklies and handing them out. Everyone hoarded their Warm Fuzzies and never got them out in case they were stolen.

The land became a gloomy place full of miserable people. They only ever went out and met when they absolutely had to in order to stay alive.

The wicked wizard was delighted, spreading misery made him feel good.

Then, one day, the wise wizard had completed his business and returned. He was dismayed with what he found. He immediately called all the people together.

Grumpily they all congregated in the Town Square.

‘Silly people,’ he chastised them. ‘You should not believe the lies you are told. It is all fake news. There are more than enough Warm Fuzzies. They never run out. The more you give away the more you have!’

The people looked at each other and rejoiced. They threw away all their nasty Cold Pricklies. The wicked wizard was angry and slunk away to never be seen again.

From that day forth everyone gave each other Warm Fuzzies at every opportunity. The land was full of joy again. Nobody ever got sick and nobody ever ran out of Warm Fuzzies.

So if you know anyone who has been surviving all their lives on horrid Cold Pricklies, go and give them a big Warm Fuzzy and make both of you feel good. You can never run out. The more you give away the more you have. And always remember to beware of wicked wizards bearing fake news and ask yourself what are they getting out of it? What is it that is making them happy?

No One Knows – a poem

No One Knows


Beware the ones with answers,

Ignore the ones who’re sure.

For no one knows

What it all is really for.


They ponder the mysteries

Breeding answers more improbable

As they seek to pierce

The armour of the impossible.


But all we know

Is no one knows.

Their answers

Are all no-shows.


No one has the key.

There are no messiahs;

No texts that reveal;

Just power-mad desires.


So beware the ones with answers.

They know what they do.

They are spinning you a tale

Some would like to believe it too!


Accept that no one knows

And love the mystery.

It’s full of awe and wonder

A paradise for free!


Opher – 13.5.2019



There are those that say that not having the answers is proof that their answers are correct. Only they have the solution to the mysteries around us. Yet their answers are more fantastical than the mysteries themselves.

So beware the ones with answers for they know not what they think.

Live among the mystery and love every second. I believe it’s all we have.

I know not where it came from or how it arose – but I sure like thinking about it.

I Can’t Help It! – a poem


I Can’t Help It!


I can’t help it!

I have a section missing!

It’s not my fault!

Spelt out in DNA code

Missing on my Y –

The ability to iron or fold,

To notice dirt,

To dance,

To knit or sew!

All missing!

It’s not my fault!

I’m disabled!

There’s a whole section missing.

I can’t help it!


Opher – 12.5.2019



Where did it all go wrong? Why am I so inept at so many things? I guess it’s just genetic!

I was born that way. My Y chromosome is a stunted little thing with so much missing! Who would have thought that the genes for ironing, folding and noticing dirt would all be on the section that is missing?

So sad. I feel so helpless! But it’s not my fault is it?

PS – it is intended to be humorous.

Without Blades – A short film based on my poem Rebellion Extinction.

I was very humbled to find that a group of students had used one of my poems – Extinction Rebellion – to create a powerful short film.

Thank you Alex Galkowski, Nicola Stockdale, Nathan Wong and Iago de Parla – with thanks to Meegan Worcester, Freya Dohrn Ellefsen and Ethan Bishop.

Let us all hope that it helps a little to put the environment top of the agenda. We’re fighting for our planet.

Thank you guys – you’ve done me proud!

Extinction Rebellion


The world is in a mess.

That’s not hard to see.

The plunder and the rape

Is killing bird and tree.


But there’s a rebellion against this extinction

Carried out with distinction.

Superglued to trains and building barricades

They’re fighting without blades.


They are fighting for the future

They are making a huge din.

They’re trying to wake us up

To what is happening.


For profit and gain

We are busy plundering.

Without a care for pain

Or a moment spent wondering.


But there’s a rebellion against this extinction

Carried out with distinction.

Superglued to trains and building barricades

They’re fighting without blades.


So long live the rebellion

I hope it wakes us up.

Greed is so destructive

We’ve got to give it up.


But there’s a wealthy bunch

Who just see the cash.

Unless they start to give a damn

We’re heading for a crash.


But there’s a rebellion against this extinction

Carried out with distinction.

Superglued to trains and building barricades

They’re fighting without blades.


Opher – 24.4.2019



What we have done to the world over these last few hundred years is criminal. Without regard to the destruction or the agony of the creatures caught up in it we have devastated the environment.

Things have got to change.

Animal population numbers are decimated. Many face extinction. The wilderness is being destroyed.

Nowhere is safe.

Thank heavens some people are prepared to fight for a better future.

Once – a poem



Only once!


In eternity,

Out of nothing,

Into something!

From mineral

To animal!

From mindless

To conscious!


Of how


There was nothing!



Opher 12.5.2019



There are the usual amazing things that boggle my mind – Like how a whole universe of zillions of stars came out of nothing – or how a bunch of minerals on a tiny planet in a minor galaxy all came together to form something that we describe as being alive – or how that life evolved to create feelings, consciousness and was even able to contemplate the wonders around it.


But hey – I don’t feel the need to create something even more fantastical to explain it. I’m content to be boggled.