The Thief

He knew no road of righteousness,
Nor any path to noble salvation.
On his way, he was aware of only loyalty
Walking a street labelled desolation.

Any goodness was tinged by duty
Allowing the only trust in lies for belief.
Friendship was a conspired existence
As through life, he strolled as a thief.

Money or wealth was never his target.
He followed what other’s desired.
Obligations were heavy and demanding,
But he achieved all that was required.

When the thief was no longer effective
And the young took over his role
He found no strength inside his conscience,
Nor vigour inside his soul.

Silent and lonely the thief passed over.
His body to a grave deserted and bare.
Four strangers lowered his casket
To the arms of the dead who waited down there.

© 2018, Danny Kemp All rights reserved

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The University Of California Has Created A Device That Translates Human Thoughts Into Text, With A 90 Percent Accuracy Rate

This could be beneficial and also alarming!

Reality Decoded

Researchers at the University of California, Berkeley, have developed a machine and computer program that converts brain activity into text.

Thoughts activate specific neurons in the brain and each word is a slightly different set of combined neurons.

Now scientists have an algorithm that can pick up that activity and translate it outside of the human body. It can even process words it has not seen before.

They can literally tap into your inner voice, that voice in your head that only you can hear.

Other entities are also jumping on board in a race to have the first and fastest mind reading tech on the market. With so many companies, governments, and schools competing to be first in this new arena, the chances of a deployable model within just a few years is now a reality.

How this can be applied is mind-blowing or scary:

  • Help those who have…

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Free Kindle of The Desolate Garden

If you missed out on the free autographed paperback copy of The Desolate Garden offered by Goodreads then take the free Kindle from Amazon instead.

‘You Will Never Guess The Ending’
#Suspense #Murder #Mystery

Five years under a paid option to become a $30 million film.
A Top 100 Indie Book You Should Read Before You Die
A bestseller In Russian literature




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A Gentle Stroll

Many a woodland path have I strolled
Through balmy winds and those that blow cold,
But now as life digs in and takes its toll
Old legs forbid such a demanding stroll.

Orchards in blossom sway in my mind
Perhaps they too I have left behind,
But even if life is beyond my control
I will still find a place where I can stroll.

Over bracken moorland, over stony ground
Paths I’ve wandered, paths I’ve found.
Leaves I’ve trodden and streams I’ve crossed,
Both when fair and sometimes in hoarfrost.

When the winter rain does come driving hard and fast
It will not determine this winter as my last.
But for now whilst the sun shines from morn till eve,
I shall bathe in its sunlight dreaming of paths I shall not leave.



© 2018, Danny Kemp All rights reserved

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Don’t Judge

Old Things R New

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

Photo credit WFTV 9 in Orlando, Fl

We are spending the winter in Florida. Before we left North Carolina we had some wet and chilly days so I was able to observe the type of outerwear being worn this year. This, along with some weight loss prompted me to purchase a lightweight but warm, quilted jacket at the an after Christmas sale. ( Everyone was wearing them) When I packed for Florida, I brought 4 outerwear items. 4… What was I thinking? When we lived in Florida full-time I never had 4. I would drool over sweaters in the stores but I already had one I liked so why spend the money?

This week brought some chilly temps as well as wind and gave me a chance to observe the Florida folks outerwear. I saw lots of sweatshirts and even dress length coats. Now non…

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Cheryl Holloway’s Book Blog



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Sally’s Cafe and Bookstore – Author Update #Reviews – Judith Barrow, Jacquie Biggar and Daniel Kemp

From the lovely Sally Cronin

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Welcome to the first Cafe and Bookstore Update for the week.

The first author with a recent review for the prequel to her successful Howarth Family Trilogy A Hundred Tiny Threads is Judith Barrow.

About A Hundred Tiny Threads

It’s 1911 and Winifred Duffy is a determined young woman eager for new experiences, for a life beyond the grocer’s shop counter ruled over by her domineering mother.

The scars of Bill Howarth’s troubled childhood linger. The only light in his life comes from a chance encounter with Winifred, the girl he determines to make his wife.

Meeting her friend Honora’s silver-tongued brother turns Winifred’s heart upside down. But Honora and Conal disappear, after a suffrage rally turns into a riot, and abandoned Winifred has nowhere to turn but home.

The Great War intervenes, sending Bill abroad to be hardened in a furnace of carnage and loss. When he returns his…

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The Other Side Of Hell

Hidden away memories locked up never to be seen.
Pain that’s been witnessed both agonising and obscene.
Conscience never heeded whilst acting in the name of right.
Lives that were taken in the shadows of the night.

Should you have ignored what was asked and turned aside?
Forgetting all the truths you told only remembering how you’d lied.
Your lies live in the darkness where death stands in wait,
To separate you from sanity altering the path to your fate.

There’s no time in eternity, there’s only the present you will find.
The future was but an illusion that painted rumours in the mind.
But remedies are forbidden inside this anguished cell,
For the nightmares that exist on the other side of hell.

© 2019, Danny Kemp All rights reserved.




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Beautifully simple

The Writers Desk

My youngest granddaughter (the one with the red hair in the photo) came bounding into my room to say hello. She is four years old and full of energy, and I mean full to the brim but she has a heart of gold and a smile that lights up the world. I had been having a tough day up to that point.

“Hi Nonni, I came to see you!” as she jumped up on my lap and gave me a kiss and a big hug. After she hugged and kissed me she looked at me and her little hand went immediately to my hair, which is red like hers. Of course, Maddie was born with that beautiful red hair, mine has been the same color red for over fifty years, but comes from a bottle. However, she doesn’t know that and proudly states that; “me and nonni have the same…

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Storia illustrata

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