An Ever-Changing Line—Or—Nuances Of The English Language


You’ve got to keep going or you’ll stop and standstill.
You’ve got to keep going while you still have the will.
If you stop going then the will’s going leave
And if you leave the will behind you’ll nothing in which to believe.

Sometimes belief makes you cry but it’s good to clean the ducts.
Ducts are not ducks neither are they viaducts.
Viaducts can be bridges carrying a road above the ground,
Whereas an aqueduct carries water and makes a strange bubbling sound.

Sound travels quickly but not as fast as light.
Light can be heavy depending on your night.
Nights are dark but are not necessarily black,
Unless of course, you sleep with your head in a sack.

The sack can cost you money if you’ve nowhere else to go.
To go somewhere can be accomplished either quickly or slow.
Slow of mind can mean you take your time to work out what’s right.
Right doesn’t always come out on top when it’s beaten in a fight.

Fights aren’t clever, you often bruise your hands.
Hands that do dishes should avoid scrubbing pans.
Pans and pots are receptacles in which one cooks.
And cooks can be useful, unlike crooks who are just crooks…. Boom Boom


© 2019 Daniel Kemp All rights reserved

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Lord Byron’s insanity



Lord Byron, English poet, aged 25 in a painting by Richard Westall (1813)

This is a poem by me about the turbulent and gloomy thoughts and moods of the famously infamous 19 th century English Romantic poet, George Gordon Byron, simply known as Lord Byron.

Known to have had Bipolar disorder, he suffered for all his life time with frequent mood changes, fiery tempers bordering on violence, inebriation, licentious practices and a whole lot of odd behaviors.

The bright side of his malady happened to be his poetical genius. He was a prolific writer who has magnum opuses like ‘Don Juan’ and ‘ Childe Harold’s pilgrimage’ to his credit. The beauty and brilliance of his verse is unmatched. Though a Romantic poet, each of his biographers stresses the degree of realism evident in his verses. I have read only excerpts from Don Juan and Childe Harold’s pilgrimage, the ones given…

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Free Amazon Audiobook Coupons

From the 50 free audiobook coupons, (25 Amazon .com 20 Amazon .co) I was given on Thursday for The Desolate Garden I now have only 5 for Amazon .com but still 20 for Amazon co.

If you would like to take one just ask.

The remaining coupons can be redeemed on these links where a sample of the book can be heard.


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Yesterday I was given 50 Amazon audio coupons for a free download of The Desolate Garden by my publishing company.  There are 19 coupons left for Amazon. com and 20 coupons left for Amazon. co uk.

If you would like to take one and hear the book read out to you, all you have to do is ask.

Listen to a sample on these links—




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The Desolate Garden, once under a 6 year paid option to become a $30,000,000 film, now available FREE with a thirty-day Amazon audio trial.
A five-minute sample can be heard on these links—




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The Small Dog and the Visitor

A wonderful poem that made me laugh.

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

“Oh, writer, you had better come,”
The Small Dog whispered low,
“There’s something going on out there,
I think you ought to know.”

She sounded quite unhappy,
“…Be as quiet as a mouse,
We’ve got prospective tenants
Looking at the birdie house.”

I thought she’d seen a sparrow
Or the robin’s glowing breast,
“This thing’s a little bigger.
Maybe too big for the nest…”

I carried on composing.
“Writer, better come right now…
It’s gonna eat the nest-box
‘Cause we’ve got ourselves a cow.”

“It’s stolen half the bushes
Now it’s started on the box.
Oh writer, don’t they feed it?
‘Cause it’s hungry as a fox!”

I went and looked and sure enough
It wasn’t just a bird
“Would you just like to nip outside
And maybe have a word?”

I couldn’t understand quite why
The Small Dog was upset,
The cows are often at the fence,
They’ve been…

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A Thought

If the purpose of understanding is enrichment, wisdom, and truth, then there is no point to understanding as there is no definitive truth in any world where wisdom is not listened to and enrichment comes at the end of a gun.

© 2019, Daniel Kemp

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I think this is wonderful



Me gustan los balcones, esas plataformas que emergen de las fachadas como si tuvieran una identidad propia y le dieran personalidad al edificio donde se encuentran. Una casa sin balcón, es como si estuviera ciega, muda, ausente, como si no supiera mirar a ningún sitio.  Siempre me fijo en las balaustradas, me encantan las que son de metal, de hierro viejo, las que dejan correr el aire.  Me gustan los balcones llenos de flores, donde los geranios o los claveles, exhiben vivos colores y alegran esas calles estrechas o amplias por donde pasan todas las estaciones del año haciendo honor a sus temperaturas atmosféricas… Así recuerdo los balcones cerrados de invierno, los abiertos de par en par de verano, los entornados de otoño y primavera… El balcón es la boca de una casa, su respiración, una boca que besa y ríe, que gime y canta nuestros hábitos. En los balcones…

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The Latest

A Covenant Of Spies is on Amazon to pre-order with a publication date of 17th December. I have sent an email to the publishers to verify that information. When I hear back I will post the reply.



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Did You?

As you are leaving this world on your own,
You can never change the past that you’ve sown.
It was your life to do with as you so please,
But did you do well, ask yourself as you leave.
© 2019, Daniel Kemp

Posted in Author/Writer, Raconteur | 5 Comments