Progress

I decided a few weeks ago that managing 100 poems for my cruise collection was just too much to handle, so I’ve divided them into about three parts of 31, 31 and 36 poems. The first part is only a short time away from being uploaded to KDP. I’ll give the poems a final read through and no doubt think of things I should say. Today for example, I should add a note somewhere that each watercolour took an hour to do. Talking about covers, I’ve done a mock-up, and it looks pretty good. The ones on the back are by me and Frances.

INVENTED LANGUAGES


I was bored, picked a book off from the shelf. Ignored chapters on Esperanto, Volapük, Interlingua, Toki Pona, Lingua Ignota, and Solresol, and started reading a one on Klingon because I liked the Star Trek series on TV and film following the adventures of the Star Ship Enterprise and its crew. It’s mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilisations, and to boldly go where no one has gone before.



THIS ISN’T A SHOW

There wasn’t any doubt what I’d write about. It was the highlight of the day, and I felt guilty about not writing about all the other things: Dave at the cruise terminal who directed me to a barber’s for my first haircut on the cruise, the museum itself with its installations, the war memorial gardens which reminded me of the hero’s shrine in Aldershot. But it was only when I started writing that I realised just how significant the experience was. How much respect meant. In 2024 I travelled on a World Cruise and wrote a poem a day for 100 days. I’m now getting a book of these ready for publication. This is the poem 44. A version was published by Wildfire words.

ANOTHER ROUND (Panama Canal)

It took all day to pass through the canal and cost £250,000. I feel guilty I did not spend more time on deck just looking. What really struck me was smoke coming from behind a hill when we were about to pass Panama City.

In 2024 I travelled on a World Cruise and wrote a poem a day for 100 days. I’m now getting the book ready for publication This is the poem I wrote on day 17.

DAY 92: THE SOFTEST THING

Photograph by Richard Lovelock. See also https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=682878398095070&set=a.149287128120869 for other wonderful photos.
Many thanks to David Cooke for publishing this poem in the Summer 2026 edition of The High Window, and to Richard Lovelock for allowing me to use his wildlife photographs from the voyage.
The Story Behind the Poem
This happened on a sea day somewhere in the Atlantic.
I was reading a Jack Reacher novel on a lounger when June, from the next cabin, said a bird was trapped by the cabin window. Ray, from the cabin opposite, identified it as a storm petrel and explained that these birds struggle to take off from solid surfaces because of their specialised legs, weak feet and long wings. They normally need open water, a wave, or a cliff edge to gain lift.
After much discussion about what to do, June fetched the guest lecturer and wildlife photographer Richard Lovelock. Wearing cargo shorts and looking entirely unfazed, he gently wrapped the bird in a towel, carried it to the stern, and launched it into the wind.
For a few seconds it seemed uncertain whether the bird would fly.
Then it caught the air and disappeared into the sky.
The Poem
DAY 92: THE SOFTEST THING
A storm petrel falls from the sky,
feathers plastered by rain,
wings folding under the pull of gravity,
one half alert to waves,
the other drifting, chest rising in tiny rhythms.
Then Richard Lovelock appears,
hands practiced, careful,
beard salt white, eyes scanning the storm.
He kneels by the cabin door,
swaddles the bird in a towel,
feeling the pulse, the fear,
breath trembling through feathers.
Passengers angle for photos,
oblivious to the small life
he carries to the stern,
a small message
meant for sky, not sea.
He throws the bird upward,
expecting a miracle.
Gravity, that unsentimental editor,
offers no guarantees.
For three long beats: nothing.
Then instinct kicks in.
Wings catch the wind,
rain stinging, spray on the deck:
it rises, slipping into the open sky.
Publication
Published in The High Window, Summer 2026.
About the Project
In 2024 I travelled on a world cruise and wrote a poem for each of the 100 days of the voyage and am now getting the book ready for publication. This poem is Day 92 of that sequence.

ASKING FOR HELP

I sent my collection to four trusted readers: Greg Freeman, Stephen Claughton, John Wheeler, and Cheryl McLennon. The instructions were vague: read the poems and let me know if you have any comments.

It was one of the best decisions I made. It was expecting far too much from each person to read all 102 poems and provide detailed feedback, so I’ll have to do the difficult bit myself. I became someone else. I had to wear different hats to look at a problem to ask what sort of hard questions they would demand of each poem:
Wearing the curator’s hat. Does it earn its place in the collection? A poem that works on its own may still be deadweight in a collection. Ask whether it adds something the other poems do not: a different tone, a different angle, a necessary pause or acceleration. If you could remove it and nothing would be lost, it probably should go.
Wearing the architect’s hat. Does its form work? (Short answer: no. Loose free verse became poems in three-line tercets.) Form is not decoration. It is an argument about how the content should be experienced. Free verse can feel like a default rather than a decision. Ask whether the shape of the poem on the page is working for or against what the poem is trying to do.
Wearing the navigator’s hat. Is there a turn, a moment where something shifts? This is sometimes called the volta. It does not have to be dramatic, but something needs to change: the speaker’s understanding, the emotional register, the angle of vision. A poem without a turn is usually just a description. The turn is where the poem becomes a poem.
Wearing the carpenter’s hat. Do the lines and stanzas end in the right place? The end of a line is the most powerful position in a poem. It creates a small moment of suspension before the reader moves on. Look at what word is sitting at the end of each line and ask whether it deserves that emphasis. The same goes for stanza breaks, which are like a longer breath, a chance to let something land before moving forward.
Wearing the critic’s hat. Is the poem unclear? Is it interesting? These are two separate questions and both matter. A poem can be perfectly clear and completely inert. It can also be interestingly strange but so obscure it locks the reader out. You are looking for the productive middle ground: a poem that rewards attention without demanding decoding.
Wearing the doorman’s hat. Does the ending explain what the poem already showed rather than open beyond it? Weak endings tend to summarise or interpret, telling the reader what to feel about what they have just read. Strong endings trust the poem and the reader. They tend to open outward rather than close down, leaving a resonance rather than a conclusion.
Wearing the conductor’s hat. Is the poem rushing past its best moments or lingering past its welcome? Read the poem aloud and notice where you want more time and where you want to move on. A poem that races through its most interesting image has probably not understood where its centre of gravity is. A poem that keeps going after its natural ending has not trusted itself to stop.
Wearing the surgeon’s hat. Are there unnecessary lines? Most poems are too long. Look for lines that repeat what has already been said, that explain an image rather than let it stand, or that exist only to get to the next line. Cut them and see if the poem gets stronger. It usually does.
Wearing the detective’s hat. Does it actually sound like me? This is one of the hardest questions because it requires you to know what your voice actually is. Look for lines that feel borrowed, that sound like a poem rather than like you. If you read a line and think someone else could have written it, that is worth examining. The goal is not to be different for its own sake but to be specific, and specificity is where voice lives.
Wearing the gatekeeper’s hat. Does the opening earn entry quickly, or is the real poem buried a few stanzas in? Writers often need to write their way into a poem, which means the first draft frequently has a false start at the top. Read the poem and ask where it actually begins. If the third stanza is where things come alive, consider cutting everything above it and seeing what happens.
Wearing the diver’s hat. Is the poem about what it thinks it is about, or is there a deeper subject trying to surface? A poem about a walk in the woods may actually be about grief. A poem about a childhood kitchen may actually be about forgiveness. Sometimes the stated subject is a way in to something the writer has not quite named yet. If you can feel a pressure beneath the surface of a poem, try to identify what it is and ask whether the poem is fully addressing it.
Wearing the traveller’s hat. Does the poem move? Does something change between the first line and the last? By the final line, the poem should have taken you somewhere. The change can be subtle, a shift in tone, a slight reframing, a new image that recasts everything before it. But if the last line could swap places with the first without any real loss, the poem is standing still.
Wearing the gardener’s hat. Are the images doing work, or are they decoration? An image should earn its place by doing something that direct statement cannot. It should illuminate, complicate, or extend the poem’s meaning. If an image is simply pretty, or simply there, ask what would happen if you removed it. If the answer is nothing, it is probably decoration.
Wearing the hat that keeps falling off. Where does the poem lose you, even slightly? That is usually where the problem is. This is the most useful instinct an editor can develop. You do not always need to know why a poem loses you, only to notice that it does. A moment of confusion, a line that feels off, a stanza where your attention drifts: these are signals. Mark them and bring them to the writer. The problem may not be exactly where you felt it, but it will be nearby.