Welcome! Explore My Creations & Discover Your Favourites.
This is the central home for all of my creative work. Whether you are a long-time reader or visiting for the first time, I invite you to dive in and explore.
🧭 How to Navigate the Site
Latest Postings: Tap on the links in the written menus below to search my writing. To dive straight into my most recent pieces three will show on my front page. To browse by Category: Click the Menu drop down at the bottom of the page. Simply choose a category that sparks your interest and see what you discover.
✒️ The Poetry: From Craft to Soul
My writing journey spans over a decade, and you will find an eclectic mix of styles reflecting that growth.
The Evolution of Style: Explore everything from my early, structured days—where my poetry was more didactic and traditionally rhymed—through to my contemporary work, which leans toward free verse while still experimenting with classical forms.
Themes & Texture: I have a deep love for psychological poetry, vivid imagery, and the natural music of language. My hope is that you find lines within these pages that truly speak to your own experiences.
The Craft Behind the Words: Having dedicated several years to studying the mechanics of writing, I also share numerous craft-based articles. If you are a fellow writer or a curious reader, these insights into the “how” and “why” of poetry are for you.
📚 Coming Soon: Sneak Peeks & Previews
I am currently in the exciting throes of producing two new books of poetry that take an intimate look at psychology and the self.As these collections come together, I will be sharing exclusive snippets right here on the blog. Keep a close eye out for these previews I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts, reactions, and feedback as the project evolves.
Enjoy your time exploring, and thank you for reading!
Below see my Three Latest Posts.
- Vowels and Consonants and the Architecture of Speech
Vowels, Consonants and the Architecture of Speech
Before we can explore stress and rhythm, it helps to understand something about the sounds that make up spoken language.
We often think of vowels and consonants as groups of letters, but they are more accurately described as different kinds of speech sounds.
A vowel sound is produced with relatively little obstruction to the flow of air. As you pronounce the vowels in see, say, sigh, sew, and Sue, notice that the air moves freely through the mouth. The shape of the mouth changes, but the tongue does not completely block the airflow.
A consonant sound is produced by partially or completely interrupting that airflow. The lips may close (p, b, m), the tongue may touch the ridge behind the teeth (t, d), or the airflow may be narrowed to create friction (s, f, sh).
One way of thinking about the difference is that vowels provide the voice with a resonant pathway, while consonants shape, direct, interrupt, and refine that sound.
Try saying the following sounds aloud:
aaaaa
ooooo
eeeee
Notice how they can be sustained almost indefinitely.
Now try:
p
t
k
These sounds cannot be prolonged in the same way because they involve a complete closure of the airflow.
Next try:
sssss
fffff
mmmm
These consonants can be extended, but they still shape the airflow differently from vowels.
This distinction matters because the rhythmic structure of speech depends heavily on the interaction between vowels and consonants. Vowels tend to carry syllables, while consonants help define where one sound ends and another begins.
The Curious Case of Y
Most letters consistently represent either vowel sounds or consonant sounds. The letter y is unusual because it can represent both.
At the beginning of words such as yes, yellow, and yard, the letter y represents a consonant sound.
In words such as my, fly, sky, and happy, it represents a vowel sound.
This reminds us that speech sounds and letters are not always the same thing. Letters are symbols on a page. Speech sounds are what we actually hear and produce. The relationship between the two is often straightforward, but English frequently requires us to pay attention to sound rather than spelling.
Why This Matters for Prosody
When we listen to speech, we do not hear isolated letters. We hear patterns of sound.
Some sounds are open and sonorous. Others are sharp and brief. Some syllables seem to take centre stage, while others remain in the background.
Stress, rhythm, phrasing, and expression all emerge from these patterns.
As a poet it’s worth begining to pay attention to how words feel in your mouth as well as how they look on the page. Prosody starts not with meaning, but with sound. The music of language is already present before we decide what a sentence means. - “Strong Verbs”
We Talk About “Strong Verbs”, But…
We are often told to use strong verbs in our writing. It sounds straightforward enough, doesn’t it?
But here’s the confusing bit: “strong verb” means two quite different things, depending on whether we’re talking about grammar or the craft of writing.
And the distinction is rather interesting.
- Strong verbs in grammar
In grammar, strong verb is a technical linguistic classification.
Historically, Germanic verbs were divided into strong and weak verbs according to how they formed their past tense.
A strong verb typically changes the vowel within the word, following inherited patterns of vowel change.
For example:
- sing → sang → sung
- swim → swam → swum
- drink → drank → drunk
- write → wrote → written
A weak verb, historically speaking, forms its past tense with a dental ending, usually appearing in modern English as -ed.
For example:
- walk → walked
- jump → jumped
- laugh → laughed
So sing is grammatically a strong verb, whereas laugh is grammatically weak.
These terms come from the Germanic ancestry of English. They describe how verbs behave grammatically, not how powerful or expressive they are.
And here comes the slightly bonkers part…
- Strong verbs in creative writing
When writers and editors advise us to use stronger verbs, they usually mean something entirely different.
In creative writing, a strong verb is one that conveys an action precisely, vividly and effectively. It may express something that would otherwise need an adverb or additional description.
Consider:
The dragon walked slowly towards Splinter.
Now compare:
The dragon stalked towards Splinter.
Or:
Splinter looked angrily at Sir Hugo.
Compare that with:
Splinter glared at Sir Hugo.
The verbs stalked and glared are not considered strong because of their grammatical construction.
They are stylistically strong because they convey more information.
They combine action, manner and attitude in a single word.
This is why writing advice often recommends replacing rather general verbs such as get, make, do and have with more precise alternatives.
Bishop’s University’s “guidance on strong verbs” (https://www.ubishops.ca/wp-content/uploads/Strong-verbs-Sept-2023-2.pdf), for example, discusses how more precise verbs can give writing greater impact.
But there’s an important wrinkle.
- A grammatically weak verb can be a wonderfully strong writing choice
Take the verb glare.
Its past tense is glared, formed by adding -ed, so grammatically it belongs to the weak category.
Yet:
Sir Hugo glared at Splinter.
is wonderfully expressive.
We can almost imagine Splinter deciding that this might be an excellent moment to disappear!
Conversely, consider:
Sit → sat
This is grammatically a strong verb because it follows a historical vowel-change pattern.
But:
Splinter sat on the table.
isn’t necessarily an especially vivid sentence.
So the two meanings of strong are quite separate.
Term| What “strong” means
Grammatical strong verb| Forms its past tense through an inherited pattern of vowel change
Stylistically strong verb| Conveys an action precisely and effectivelyOne describes grammar. The other describes the choices we make as writers.
- But is a stronger verb always a better verb?
Now we come to something particularly important.
A more dramatic verb isn’t necessarily a better verb.
Let’s return to our dragon.
The dragon walked slowly towards Splinter.
The dragon stalked towards Splinter.
The second sentence suggests something rather threatening. But suppose the dragon is friendly, tired or simply curious?
Perhaps:
The dragon ambled towards Splinter.
would be more appropriate.
Or:
The dragon stumbled towards Splinter.
Each verb changes how we imagine the action.
The purpose isn’t to find the most colourful word. It is to find the word that conveys what we actually intend.
And sometimes the perfectly ordinary verb walked is exactly right.
We should also be careful not to assume that every adverb is unnecessary.
Consider:
Splinter smiled sadly.
The adverb introduces an emotional contradiction. Splinter is smiling, but something is troubling him.
Replacing smiled sadly with grinned would change the meaning entirely.
Adverbs are not enemies of good writing. They become a problem when they add nothing useful or merely repeat what the verb already tells us.
- What does this mean for poetry?
For poets, the choice of verb is particularly important.
A verb doesn’t merely describe an action. It contributes to the sound, rhythm, atmosphere and emotional movement of a line.
Consider:
She walked into the night.
She crept into the night.
She danced into the night.
She stumbled into the night.
The physical movement changes, but so does our understanding of the person, her feelings and possibly even the story surrounding her.
And when we read these lines aloud, we hear differences in rhythm and sound.
A poet may deliberately choose a quieter, less descriptive verb because it fits the movement of the poem or allows another image to carry the emotional weight.
Sometimes a simple word creates more impact than an elaborate one.
The question shouldn’t be, Can I find a stronger verb?
It should be, Does this verb do what I want it to do?
A final thought
“Strong verb” gets thrown about in writing instruction as though everybody agrees what it means.
They don’t.
Grammatical strength and stylistic strength are two different things, and neither guarantees good writing.
The most effective verb isn’t necessarily the most dramatic or colourful. It’s the one that conveys the intended meaning, creates the desired effect and belongs naturally in the sentence or line.
And perhaps the loveliest principle for writers is this:
A verb doesn’t have to be grammatically strong to make a sentence sing.
