Fighting A Different Battle

This is the most recent collaboration piece with Benjamin Grossman. It has always been a joy and encouragement to work with Ben. Please do check out his work, you won’t be disappointed.

Two millennia ago
I wouldā€™ve cried
Stony tears
Like the stoics of legends

For the injustices raging
Against shared truth
I scream in silence
Like a fallen knight

There are no more
Heroic battles
On a field of dirt and dust
Where men were once raised
To die for future honor

We hide behind
Neuro electro defenses
Attacking lives
Without sounding
The trumpet

Am I a departed
Clutching the white flag
Crippled by reality
Or my own fatal mind?

A Collection of Paintings and Poetry of Australian Landscapes

Collaboration of Virginia Bucknell and Cassa Bassa

You may see more of Virginia’s amazing paintings and purchase this collection by clicking here
20x28cm (8×11″) Hardcover gloss print, perfect for resisting tea or coffee stains šŸ˜.

The Lesser of Two Evils

This is the recent collaboration with Benjamin Grossman which helped me greatly in breaking my writing ‘numbness’. Please check out Ben’s blogĀ if you have not already read his amazing work.Ā 

The glacial battle begins in our heads
Face pressed to the sun-pierced windowpane
January snow in recession, the signs of regressionĀ 
Half hidden like an iceberg in the arctic waterĀ 
And where once a soft glow illuminated the surfaceĀ 
Only the placement of desolation remains
Reverberating silent screamsĀ 
Ā Ā 
There is no one way of knowing cold
The stages are fluid and transient
Its meaning bitterly ambiguousĀ 
Yet in rare lucid moments, I see husks
An empty bed, scarred skin, chattered teeth
Spirit-numbed mind, missed meals, vacant smiles

There is no one way of knowing cold
Its symptoms appear to have no rhyme or reason
Although they move with wintry doom
From person to person increasing in aggressionĀ 
Till you understand the meaning of icy
Which unbeknownst to us creeps in successionĀ 

There is no one way of knowing coldĀ 
Though maybe itā€™s always the same
Emotional and physical reactionĀ 
A state of feeling dangerously low
Struggling to survive between cold and colder
The very same polar opposites: Arctic and Antarctica



This is a collaboration piece with Spirited Soul based on a Poetic Duets Prompt – “Pick any of the 5 senses. Now, imagine your life without it, and describe it poetically.” This prompt came from Instagram @PoeticDuets

Beautiful green and orange chunks weaved through the spongy dough.
Aromatic toasted nuts gave that firm structure
like the solid brick work in an architecture piece.
When the baking oven timer went off like a diner bell,
my nose was overwhelmed by the healthy wholesomeness.
My mouth salivated in great anticipation.

As I slide the fork from in between my lustrous lips,
I feel the thick, coarse lump in my mouth.
Swirling around like dry sand when I chew.
Feeling like a handful of moving bugs as I try to swallow.
The kind that land inside your mouth after an enjoyable motorbike ride.

Ocean Spring

A Collaboration of Cassa and Lucy

dark clouds gather overheadĀ as the rolling thunder
sets my soul on fire

lightning brings about the sparkĀ 
I longed to ignite our flameĀ 

overflowing in the depths of my tempestuous heartĀ 
my inner sense of desire
yearning for the calm waves to wash over meĀ 

ever so gentle rhythmic in unison with my heart beat
the lull of your breathing brings aboutĀ 
a peaceful and serene plateau of joyous abandonmentĀ 

your voice, so quiet and sublime
echos in the distance far from silent ears
nothing measures up to the peace you grant me
the gentle trickle spring you let inĀ 
in painstaking patience
nourishes my weathered heart

unbeknown to you
the frozen particles in my being thaw in your presence
you are the heart and soul of my universeĀ 
your spring overflows my cupĀ 

Overambitious Love

A collaboration with Benjamin Grossman

Her emerald beauty circled his upright being
She stretched her sublime allure to capture the snow
He felt the weight in totality
It exceeded what he could possibly endure

Most days there was a smokey haze between them
And this fog formed uneven walls
With tiny openings just wide enough
To let toxic fumes leak through

In desperation,
she let out her slow poison
He turned himself inside out to survive
But was never the same man as before
Nor she the same woman

They had interwoven
like a tree wrapped in vines
They wanted to thrive under any conditions
Thatā€™s what all lovers long to do
Tragically they couldnā€™t harness the moonlight
Nor grow within the embers of dying flames

50 Shades of Darkness

A collaboration with Instagram Poetess @twinksfly
Do check out her work, amazing talent!

The fossil site was burnt to charcoal long ago
The remain of tar grease smells leathery
Sable branches drape off the ebony
The jet black raven croaks at the inky cloud
Furry spiders find their way into the midnight hollow

Standing tall amongst the ashes – of the dense foliage
That once breathe life, I stare at the smoldering ruin
With ebony flush under solar flashes, from winds that blew hard
The charred skeleton of a home, by standing, barbequing beams’ brewing

The warm evenings where crickets hovered, as the sun set
The ironbark veranda, where the kids giggled, has become a fret
Bush by bush, the fire swept, up to the garden fence
Up to the now charcoal front door, in her embrace I cense

The scent which bloomed through the air from roses red
When the delicate petals danced gaily soaking garden with vibrant colors
Now a tombless tombstone festooned by the wreath of flesh red
Lay witness with a heavy aroma of death of the dreadful summer

And my gaze walks through the charred husk that once was a car
As I remember the loud inferno, overwhelming senses, from afar
Wondering where was a freight train running at this hour
Knowing even if it was by the lake’s edge, it would become char

Every morning, with sun’s first ray, I look at the calves playing on the rubble and say
As the flaring tragedies trail throttles the screams frail
I stand still, a mute spectator of the worst-case scenario of when forecasts fail
It’s going to come again, the skies are still gray, are you counting the day

Furry spiders find their way into the midnight hollow
As the jet black raven croaks at the inky cloud
And sable branches drape off the ebony
While the remains of tar grease smell leathery
This fossil site was burnt to charcoal long ago


I remember those fun beach afternoons
We bathed in the gossamer autumn sun
Daddy’s shoulders were the mountains we climbed
Mummy’s arms were the swing we clung to
The secluded Clovelly echoed the wonderful childhood
which we locked away in our fond memory

Painting by Virginia Bucknell

you may see more of Virginia’s paintings via: Art Lovers Australia Weebly Instagram


looking out the train window
I feel the same rush of time and space
wheaten open plains move like weeping willows in the wind
lines of oil rich Eucalyptus trees casting elongated shadows on the land
the blue haze mountain backdrop vanishes into the distant clouds
they charge all at once to meet my eyes
too overwhelmed to take them in frame by frame
I feel the sudden nostalgia of old black and white flicks



Painting by Virginia Bucknell

you may see more of Virginia’s paintings via: Art Lovers Australia  Weebly   Instagram