Not This Time

Smash it from your handsWeaker self, and you whoDid not take your chanceRestedAssumedForeverFor onceKarmicallyRatherThe impotent oneSits thisOutAnd thePassionateManProves and earnsThe thunder and the dance. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

In Progress

It crestsThe expressionWry, melancholySettled, yet unsettled in the eyesOf pretty, lonely womenBut what you doIn private sightsIs openNot just yourselfWith subtle wordsMosaic menageriesBut the prize itselfTwo figures holdingWhether one live or deadPast or futureNow like old oil studiesCrammed detailGrain in ink scratchApplied to your styleThose figures fortifiedWith stone castle or heartwoodI saw my own forestAnd…

Leonine Purpose

Why?My poems are intendedTo make peopleRiseTo feel the heatWithinThemselvesAnd even when I failMy dreamIs that my words will notThey burn beyond my heart. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

George’s Fight

He could have runTwiceUrged Would you? Do we even wantTo runTo leave?Is it much betterLeaving that pull at our shoulderNever removed from knowingWe run Or should it justBe facedBecause a beastBeast-man, or sicklyTrait insideHalf the timeShrivelled when looked in the eyeFiends can have their fists brokenUpon resolveAnd you can riseWith those hard day-after-daysOf toil, not…

Singularity’s Heart

The universe does notCoalesce into a coreA pointed singularityBut a HeartBeating, bleedingWelling and overflowing withMoreThe passions and emotionsCares and ideasThat weave and threadArticulate our animal existencesTo the heights of Form and ideaAre as far from coldAs a summer forestWhat lies withinAnd the deepest pointUnder the quarksAnd at the macro scaleHas more than brain and boneJust…


How we once were strong Words, whispered An agony Entirely academic Rootless, turned As easily by pure or apathetic thought But others Few, through all years in aeons Suffer physically Though they do not reach Stars, the flames burn Unnoticed, yet not invisible dreams. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Heart and Stone

We enlargeCut, file, polishPlace colour or hold itWithin ourselvesOur own marvellous mechanismThe dark jewel of our heartsIs what wears, bears and buysAll the ones warmed by the touch. Something of a jewellers collection forming, as I have come to study and set a particular time of my life. I hope you enjoy it.All the best,J.W.H.…

The Jeweller’s Art

The size of the gemIts colour, cut, clarityCan still be held by yourHands, the same as mineWhat real wealthAnd worth isGleaned through the factIt has value in the givingThe number merely effortCatching, and discussingPhysical artGilt timepiecesReflecting out curious timeTo sit comfortable and talkCelebrate the occasionThe fiancé, colleague, thenAnd only then with a flourishPolite goodbyesAnd the…

Melancholia Matters

Perhaps, in Extolling struggle Pain Tears shed In battle, or An awful yet Never, never, never futility The melancholy No less an emotion One more present And each, a tool Our feelings the fuel The deeper cells and shapes of things That form and thicken into thoughts While I would like to Lie And say…


There is such depthless heroismMissedSo many tears and woundsThat could be savedSo many fears and frustrationsDeniedWhen we take the simpleQuietEasy to missSubtle to seeGreat to rewardGiftIf just one earCanListen. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Smile, Don’t Weep

I cannot weepAny moreSomething betterGreaterNot lessThan the tired“My eyes are dry”I simply do not see the senseGifting salt and waterWhen there is more to givePeople who need meWhether wiping their messesSmiling my smileFixing my face, and whileOptimistic is not my sighted selfThe half-mask is neededAnd more wantedThan the cast-off and cast outNo, when hurt you…


There is a chain of sufferingOf overcomingFor every trialNever alone The mothers, warriorsThe creators and unmakersThose we know or lost to timeNamed or namelessUndying Their pain undoneSet, or even occurring nowTo know makes ice endurableThe burns less unbearable to touch Grinding, pressing, smilingAs every smileEach kind wordEvery duty fulfilledAll the kind tasks complete Every act…

Death to Envy

Resentment is a comfortable coffinKeeping you dead and confinedWhat does it hurt what people do? Those who may have to offer youAdvice, example, perhaps not as badUnthinking or unhelpful as you think An enemy is a great teacherA sister or a brother someone to share withWhom does pettiness hurt, except yourself? By J.W.H. Hobbs

Beat the Mob

Insult an enemy and they will curse youConcede to one, and they will mock youBut ignore them, and build your dreams?They and the mob will scream in spite and terror. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Back in the Fire

Feeling the fireThe fearWorst; the lazinessAnd when you pushFor a longer timeAnd into the repetitionsAll you need to beat is anxietyWhat seems far away is being doneBit by bit before you know itBut first you know breathingHeavy, the heatThen a stingIt burns to go onBeing tired of feeling tiredIt can clench and crampBut the real…

The Meditative Space

Nothing but your own warm fleshBlanketed by misfiringThe meditative spaceStretching and stillingAllowing the ticks of muscleBeat of heart and ease of breathTo pass and cycleAnd then watch thoughts flyWhich can surpriseOrder, alarm, pleaseDrift you off to sleepTo heal, to alter stateAll in the shellThe gestalt formAnd its energiesProcessing, refiningBurning and spawningWith the thoughts roilingConscious and…

The Dragon

He does not dwell beneath the skyIn a distant land or astral plane. No smoke to sight or bursts of flame Its greed and wrath and prideHad nested deep and dark insideProjecting terror from afarAs monsters and madness makes its wont Its victim has no blade or bowNo hero’s blood or fable to showNor is…

Battle Born

In water, a bed or home they lieAs far can be from mortal restDeath will be faced hereThe flesh exposedStill but not silentAndFor in this womb aIn opening heart and bodyWith the web of medical and mettleIn theHer love and fight for the battle bornWill end with the shine of her skinAnd the beauty of…


In the standsIn the groundsAt Three AM or Nine PMHot from the feet that walk across themIn windswept lightOr black of nightFor the crowdsAnd the challengeTo fly from the shotAnd break the leash. By J.W.H. Hobbs

The Fall of Finrod’s Song

Where sand and seas are swept Warmth dies And shade lies The quiet before the swell The rise of his voice Ensnared in one’s own trap Treachery the blood deep ruin of noble and land. This poem was inspired by J.R.R Tolkien’s Silmarillion, and Clamavi ‘De Profundis’s choir adaptation of his song. The video itself…

Small Victories

Alike in thought and formThey are all alike and the sameWrought well, and forward. Make struggle serve youMake pain your consortSuccess tomorrow’s childPut in an hour And come what mayStruggle tills soilFor another day.Half of heroicsHas roots in willingAnd actual action. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Spring Affirmation

One way forwardClear and coldLike the light flakesSpiralling drops of snowShutting out the spring sunBuilding a bed of challengeFor the new plan tomorrowAny schemePlace to go, number of setsSeems sweetest at the conceptionBut bears no fruitUntil you’ve tilled the groundScraped and watered it at nightNo sunset vistaOr vast mountain heightWas ever scaled in onePrepare yourself…

Our Virtues and Vices

Any fairness or foulHabit or exerciseDone from your willAny spirit of fairness you holdYour ownHold it in your handsSculpt it and throw itRegardless, what it isDo what you wantAnd don’t give a damnWhat she or we or weSay or spread or sneakAnd do what you wantWhat you canIn playing and partyingBreaking the books or making…


To see the world differentlyIsn’t like a photographEverything changesAnd nothingChop woodBefore and afterEnlightenmentOur muscles changeThe surety in our bodiesMildness of speechAnd that hidden senseThat drinks in dataAnd feels the brush of water in our mind. Like a swan and its sickly nestWhy does it go there?Seek shelter and associateThat is what I amThe sicknessThe oil…

Miura Music

What GodsAnd Souls there areIn quiet contemplation No restA pace turned tohorror from beautyand frigid desire once more Humanity warswith its own restThe instant and the infinite. A poem written listening to ‘Guts’, a song from the 1989 Berserk series. Dedicated to the creators, and the hauntingly beautiful work of Kentaro Miura. By J.W.H Hobbs


While fun And fury To speak of monsters Spear the serpents Cast down the cataract Pull fangs of politicians And look to Beauty Grace and gilded Heroes. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

The Artist

Airless Mouth pulled Down And I would be Unable to Say Speak And hardly with words Will never articulate The rawness of honesty Such as No distant figure Paint or other picture Has made me Experience A nearness The Artist Has given. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Two Evils

The two evils: to drink poisoned milk And bemoan those who drink while swallowing it. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Combe Down

A beautiful painting Then and now to recall Without context But no amount of bitterness dries the colour No sound can sap the shade And set in my head That image of coming home to love In a sun drenched and light soaked city The warmth from windowpanes Sheen of the western sun Marble stones…

The Few

General faithlessness The casual or swaying nature of those reluctant to join eager to believe the worst and dismiss the best the rest the majority of men and women count for little because the great loyalty of those Few, true friends unbending Stolid workers faithful and unmoving There may be a handful in one lifetime…

Written off the cuff, for Someone

You remind me of the sunrise Rose, flesh and warm shades Coming to cold night And the sight Thrilling and expectant Newness and for one Hopeful and unsatisfied I wonder which dawn you bring Is part of lights and days I’ve dreamed. Never forget; for every bit of glass you step on there is a…

You are the Hand

Stop feeding The people Who insult you While you pay for their service By J.W.H Hobbs. I got the idea from a Chris Eubanks interview, and found it very inspiring. If you care to be part of the hand for us, we would be honoured.

‘Methinks the reaper hunches’

Methinks the reaper hunchesBowed over and leanFor who knows more of what they loveThan the breaker, the forger, the washer clean? By J.W.H. Hobbs

While Reading Wordsworth

Traveling through all the nightA path before indigo valleysOf mind, memory and the soulAnd in this writer’s wordsI feel kinshipAnd the unspooled travelsLike my own. Sweet sadnessAnd sense in the senseless realm of deathMy hope, the prints of a former manWho calls to me in the dark woods. Alike in speech and mindAnd it would…

They Scream Their Song

Long dust ingenuesFigment languagesPromises of whatMay be with sacrificeAll scream their songIn my earsAll pre-dawnAnd ink-night long Their callTo where I’ve yet to goPulls me where I roamRemembered smilesUntired and unwilling toNot tryEvery errant complimentEvery sting of skinCramp, nosebleedAnxious hidden momentsNo one but mirrors see For the able livingAnd the grandiose goneSing their songAnd I…

Old and Grey

That is a lifeOld and greyWith those we loveWhether we call it thatShownIn how they liveFor were we ever aliveIfWhen set to dieIt was not all for them? Old and greyWan and paleNear deathBloody and stayedLet colour and tearsWith life and timeBe given to them Old and greyIn deathOne’s heart never ends. By J.W.H. Hobbs.

Inspired by Pen and Watercolour at Work

When we cannot nameDo not writeOr know A new songPlayed by one we likeAs with moonlight guidancePoor on phonesBut undying in my mind So much sweeter to the memoryIneffably different is what luckPlaces in our handsSweetened in our headsTreasured in eternity By J.W.H. Hobbs. I wrote this at lunch, and the inspiration came clearly seeing…

Pretty Pointers

When the look of someone Makes you consider your ugliness Vow to be beautiful And put old flames in your blood Every Adonis is an opportunity for us. By J.W.H. Hobbs

Solitary Labour

Three desks Three minds By deeds alone are we known. The knowing is one thing And walking the path A more terrible, yet more ethereal reality To go inwards is to ascend In layers difficult to see Only perceive when they are over In the social language spread by words Image and sound, intent and…


Beauty Beauty everywhere In pain and euphoria Such chilling, blistering, blinding Beauty bleeding throughout the world. By J.W.H. Hobbs To write is beautiful, as is the knowledge you’re reading this.


I will endure this.  Or not.   Regardless,    I live right now and that is everything. I hope you like it, have a good Tuesday. By J.W.H. Hobbs

The Gate

If you know you die here Or don’t Why not give it everything Against all comers When the deed is done All actions written At the line and boundary Let them come As ink for your glory. Every day there’s breathing, there’s great things being done. Not a day goes by where there’s not new…


Every soul carries a skeletonWaiting to restBut where? Every bone can be polishedTapped, set, or scratchedBut why? Every life has its goodAnd bad, and what we live forBut when? We move the bonesWe wake and restAll these; only ourselves can answer. By J.W.H. Hobbs If you wouldn’t mind, consider a donation.

Easier, or Better?

 Much easier to call yourself a God    In these times     Than aspire to be Good. Much simpler to say things are not simple    And chant the inevitable doom of man      Than smile and make way for your neighbour. Much sweeter to be rich and sick and surrender    Than know past…


Evil never sees until it is too late It weeps when safe And the broken body The snapped dreams Beat down psyches And harm Has already been done For the pride and greed Spite washed down with envy Stay even in ‘redemption’ So very sorry With not a tear Not a sigh of lament And…

Weather Lessons

The warmth and splendour of wind and lighting can be appreciated from the window like the happy neighbour sitting out in summer sun or my skin shaken in morning air has layers of appreciation eyes and touch feeding our senses weather waking awareness I hope the weather’s lovely outside for you. J.W.H Hobbs

The Boss Dog

Thin black dogNot like the littleBrown and whiteLiving his last today Down streets already a memoryStrangers bereft of the appellationScenes set in a score of daysStill walking under greyCobblestones, pavement and sky Composed somehowMan’s best friendCertainly mine will die todayAnd my words mark itAs much as the tears in his fur Cradling himNow holding phone…

Black Dog at Night

Thunk thunk thunkA spot of black in the gloomRustle of movement at night But I smile and snortCalling outFor the little Dachshund dogSnuck in at night Nothing to fearFor what simplerElusive and pleasant pleasure Than the flow state ofUnderstanding somethingKnowing there is no need to be afraidAnd a simple connection with other animals? All the…

Group Grinning and Social Smiling

The bitten in grinLike something sourCannot cease smiling Nor would I want toToothy, lipped or sarcastic smilesThe openness of people happening On some interesting pretextIt can be black painted stoneGrey then sunny turn of tide Give people five daysYou will see two dozen soulsConduct, construct, control With admirable humourSo readily willing to get alongEven strangers…

Constructive Possibilities

ProwessLike conversationIs neverAnd will never beWords alone No theoryHalf-shrouded superiorityOf the introvert scholarThe youth confusedAnd seeking better than what they areSubstitutes what can be To be is to liveAnd ‘living’ is not mere sentienceThere is no teamworkNo growthOr one satisfying achievementWithout the advantage of disadvantage How willing are you to admitFear of facing othersShare that…


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