The Catanic Verses I

May the Great Almeowty be forever in your favour and may the grace of treats be forever in your claws.

PAWMEN 🍗

And so We Laugh

Find someone else –

To man off to.

You’re laughing but this isn’t cute

We’re laughing for another purpose.

It isn’t cute.

The Art of the Fowl

Well we gone and damn got Runner up in Vocal’s ‘Absurdist Challenge’. Warning * They asked for the Absurd. ‘Nuff said.
You can read it here…
Chuck yawned in perfect sync with the buffering sun. Another day, another bit of grain. He rolled out of bed. Lethargic, he shuffled to the fridge. Empty. He sighed. The grocery store it was then.

Poe ‘Vices 1

Introducing Poe ‘Vices: Life Advice You Definitely Didn’t Ask For
From chaos gremlin to cosmic counsellor, Poe (our feline scream-queen) is now solving your deepest problems with her signature style: shouting, biting things, and recommending chicken.
New column every Friday.
Send your questions. Regret nothing. Eat the chickens.
#CatAdvice #QueerCats #UnderlandChronicles #ChickenTherapy #PoeVices #TheKittyChronicles #Poedivine

Dragon’s Breath: An Inheritance of Ash

The valleys of my youth are burning.
The moss is gone.
The ghosts are quieter now—
buried beneath drive-thru queues and Dragon’s breath.
We inherited ash.
#poetry #Welsh #queerwriters #Underland

Alive 🏳️‍🌈

This queer narrative confronts systemic silence, discrimination, and erasure—from the AIDS crisis and “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” to blood donation bans and anti-trans legislation. It chronicles a personal awakening shaped by policy, protest, and pride, revealing how queer identity is politicized, policed, and ultimately reclaimed as resistance and truth.

Eira Coch: The Red Snow. A Winter’s Tale.

A lyrical descent into myth and memory, this Welsh literary fiction short story explores betrayal, penance, and the weight of ancient gods. Hirlas, a fallen knight turned stag, roams a winter forest under Arawn’s curse. When a hunter arrives, past and present collide in a haunting meditation on fate and identity.

The Long Road

the ice in the air today feels like relief a rare december when the bite of the air on my face feels like hope and the crunch of the grass is the rhythm of my march towards you and all my poems feel half finished now and the days are dark right now, my loveContinue reading “The Long Road”