A lanterne is a type of cinquain poetry consisting of five lines. It is centred around counting syllables in a specific order. The form is a minimalist form from Japan consisting of fewer syllables than the more commonly known haiku. The syllable count is as follows.

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The first line typically introduces the subject, the middle lines build and deepen the imagery, and the final line provides a succinct conclusion. They are often on love or nature or follow the feeling of a haiku in the sense that they capture a small moment. Here is an example:

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When centred, the poems represent the shape of a Japanese lantern

This is one of my favourite lanternes I wrote even though it verges on the edge of making sense.

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The part I find the hardest is the end line. If you try and write these and struggle the same as me, you can always repeat the first line. For example:

Complete these poems

To help get into the swing of writing these poems, complete the ones I have started below.

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Write a lanterne about the following

Challenge yourself to write poems in different environments, as this changes our process. We are forced to create things differently, and even though the difference might be slight, it can have a big effect.

- Look out of your window and write a lanterne about what you see

- From a bus, train or car, write a lanterne of a place you would like to be

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Please share any poems you write because I always love reading your creations. If you need more guidance or anything at all, please reach out. Until next time

Keep kind and stay true, Woofenberrys

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It’s scary to think we are only in the fourth year of ChatGPT being public. It wasn’t too long ago that we were all amazed by Alexa's ability to have choppy conversations with us and answer questions on command. It feels outdated and beyond yesterday. Now it is nearly impossible to go a day without seeing something powered by AI or entirely replaced. Despite what you might think, there are real-world examples of AI that are very impressive and capable of incredible things, which only makes it scarier.

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As a creative, AI is something I am firmly against; however, I also understand that it isn’t entirely the fault of the software. As a business model, morally corrupt or not, it is foolish not to follow the trends. If you own a grocery store and there is an upsurge in the sale of oranges, then you order more oranges. The way in which we use technology often dictates its evolution. The early text-to-image models became inundated with requests for image creation of artwork, concept design, illustrations and even book covers. This led to companies putting focus on finessing these parts of the creation. It became increasingly popular with logo making, and nowadays, the models encourage it. AI gave people possibilities they never had. People would flood Fiverr with artist requests of the same nature, and now they can do it independently for free. Despite my disapproval, it is entirely understandable why it became so popular.

Now AI feels like it is becoming part of the everyday, yet we are far from unity on the topic of it existence. If you stand on the dislike side, however, general statements about AI aren’t necessarily true either. For instance, when we say ‘I hate AI’ or ‘AI sucks’, we often mean something more specific, such as ‘I hate AI for creation’. The AI hate we are witnessing is based on the things that made it popular, not its actual capabilities. Making images of action figures, creating fake Marvel trailers, and trying to make Van Gogh out of a computer model are the wrong direction. Having such an easy way to replicate an artist’s voice and create new songs with their likeness is not only the wrong direction but also a moral dilemma. When I walk into a record store, I want the human experience. I want to pick up a vinyl and know somebody went through the process of making it. When I see AI vinyl records, the difference between the creator and the factory becomes too small.

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Creatively, AI is a terrible thing. What was supposed to be the paintbrush has become the painter. There have been countless situations lately where AI has leaned too far into creation. A book of AI writing won an award, a book with an AI cover won an award, and an AI poem won a $5000 prize. There have been other examples where AI has been contested, leading to disqualifications and rightfully so. The joy of writing for me is the release. Writing a poem allows me to process emotions and play with language. I adore poetry because it allows our hearts to become immortal. It allows us to feel at the peak of human emotion and have that moment recorded. The written word is very much a photograph of the inside of a human body. Sometimes from directly behind the eyes. An AI model learning from pre-existing books and committing a burglary in the broadest of daylights has become some strangely accepted thing.

Objectively, this isn’t me saying that AI is all bad. I believe it would be ignorant to ignore its potential as a helpful tool when applied to the correct sector. When it regresses to being the tool, it can achieve wonders. For instance, it can analyse hundreds of lines of code in seconds. It can analyse a database and identify patterns. It can take all of the tedious jobs and make us more efficient. We somehow fell into the trap of letting AI create instead of allowing it to think and analyse. We took a smart tool and forced it to generate nonsense. We supported the thievery, then got mad standing in empty houses. I do not support AI in its current standing; however, it cannot be ignored that there is a human fault to its current presence.

Right now, we are in the eye of the AI storm. It is appearing everywhere, embedded in everything. Even on this very app, I had to opt out of AI training. I think we have to work on finding the balance. It is unrealistic to want AI to stop existing. It is a permanent fixture in our modern world, whether we want it to be or not. It is going to evolve and continue to outperform human beings at certain tasks. We have to ask ourselves whether the tasks we are asking the AI to do are necessary or the best choice. Although AI can generate you a free book cover in under a minute, do you want that to represent the hard work you’ve put into the writing? A graphic designer doesn’t just design; they brand and give ideas. If you're stuck for endings or can’t move forward in your novel, reach out to your friends or online communities. Places like this exist for that very reason. AI, a lot of the time, is a fire escape for imagination.

Recently, at a show, I saw somebody copy and paste a text message into ChatGPT and ask it to generate a heartfelt response. I know people who ask AI for advice before seeking comfort in loved ones. We must question whether this is the right move forward for ourselves and for humanity. We don’t need AI partners or AI best friends, but if you are learning a language, then I can see the upside of AI. Translation is another great use, and if AI powering it allows more people to communicate, then why wouldn’t we support it? If it helps foster connection, then it is proof that AI has positives. There are several conversations and branches I could follow at this juncture, but when you load up ChatGPT or any model, I want you to ask, do I need AI for this? If it is a major project, then would a professional be more suited? No matter how much AI evolves, it will never lie awake at night hunting for a solution in the dark. It’ll never have that ‘3 am eureka moment’ or the irreplaceable human touch. If you are stuck creatively, talk to human beings. Go into the great outdoors and look around. Ask yourself if that flashing cursor is a porch light or a trap. We are too easily walking onto the picnic blanket in the woods and falling down the seven-foot hole. The world is evolving, and as much as I try to reject its evolution, it keeps moving forward. And although it is not currently being utilised for what it’s best for, I do see potential uses; however, I stand by the belief that not everything needs an AI power engine, and not all tasks require an AI model. Some things need to remain human, and we are all one of them.

Stay true and keep kind, Woofenberry’s

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The poem

I dream of you

the way I imagine

earth dreams

of heaven.

Last night,

I was a flower

stretching for the sky,

trying to kiss a cloud;

and I don’t know for certain,

but I think the cloud

was you.

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Confession

I struggle with stillness. I struggle being a flower in the wind, consistently having to sway and go with the flow. There is a comfort with repetition within autism, and yet, despite this, I am consistently trying to escape my patterns. Whether it is a field or a flower bed being rooted and watching the world evolve around me, tires me. I have my comforts. In the metaphor, there is a soil I will always return to, and home is such a vitality to my mental health, but I need legs instead of roots. I need to see the world from a rooftop. I need to watch a sunset from the branches of a tree. This is why I struggle with the more standardised version of living. Of a structured job with a structured schedule. This goes against who I am as an autistic human being because, gosh, do I love routines. Working creatively is wildly unpredictable, but it is consistently challenging, and to stay at my most joyful self, I must be challenged. I get frustrated quickly by repeated work that no longer challenges me. If something is easy, then I have a hunger to change it. I have tried countless jobs, and I always arrive at the ‘now what?’ I am probably in the minority because I genuinely love to work. I love putting on shows and creating projects, but I am always pushing the line into the unknown. I always want to try new things and take risks. My poetry voice is constantly evolving because I want to challenge how I sound, and I want to find something new.

This poem stems from a conversation about heaven. I have never believed we have to die to get to heaven, but in this instance, in the more traditional views of the afterlife, my pondering was on ‘how long will heaven be enough?’ I think hardship has a charm to it. Overcoming something allows a feeling of accomplishment and growth. If things are perpetually good, then what becomes of the hunger? Sadness makes a good song, and grief is a compass to any poet. Heaven being all good and hell being all bad is out of balance. I think there comes a time when even heaven searches for paradise. By this logic, my heaven is right here in the days when I can not see the sun. I like the feeling of something being earned. I want nothing handed to me. I want the soil beneath my fingers from crawling up the mountains in the rain. I want the bags under my eyes full of all the yesterdays I am still working through. When I read by the window for hours, I want to feel the strains of working hard leave my body. I want something to rest.

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This poem is about not being able to reach your desires despite them being right there. It is knowing you will find a way to reach the clouds, but it will take more time. You get what you want through earning it. I see heaven as a place we visit, not a place we reside. Perpetual paradise feels too much like hell to me. The person I was having the conversation with saw it differently and described heaven as the payoff for the hard work. There was a content nature to their voice as they imagined finally perching on the porch and reflecting. What are your thoughts on this conversation? Which side of the spectrum do you sit on? Let me know below, and as always

keep kind and stay true, Woofenberry’s x

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This record is a small heaven

For the past two months, I have been working hard on a theatre show. I haven’t talked about it openly on here, but now that it’s over, and before we wrap up human seasons and move into something different, I would love to talk about it.

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In New Zealand, I run a poetry community called Yellow Lamp, and even though we’ve been selling out small venues for 18 months, a jump to a theatre felt crazy. I decided to leap over my doubts, and the results have been astounding. We now officially have a sold-out season under our belts. Off the back end, a lot of people have been asking how I feel. People have been questioning what’s next, and the answer is likely not what you are expecting. We ran all of our shows from a small place called Movespace, which is a vital part of my growth. It was the first place in New Zealand that homed me. I felt like an outsider for a long while, and Movespace took me in and made me believe in my creativity in a way I never had before. After being a part of that community for a little while, I asked Kiran (the owner) if we should start a poetry show, and he immediately said yes. It was designed as a one-off show, but somehow here we are two years later still doing monthly shows and growing endlessly.

Due to this growth, however, we can no longer fit into Movespace, but this was not a good enough reason for me to leave it as our regular space. I got married in that very venue. That is how much it means to me. The shift for me came after a show, when someone immediately told me they didn’t like poetry, but it was their fourth time at the show. I talked to them about this, and they explained that it didn’t matter what was on the stage, that Yellow Lamp exists in an atmosphere they’ve always dreamed of being in.

Community is in such demand. The need for a place to call home and feel held is at an all-time high. The shift for Yellow Lamp going forward is to focus on hanging out and being a community that interacts with each other. The vitality of art is as strong as ever, and we cannot abandon what we have built, but we can extend it to create environments that encourage everybody to be closer.

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The Basement Theatre shows happened because I asked. Yellow Lamp exists because I asked. We get so many opportunities from the simple action of asking and being brave enough to put ourselves out there. I have made so many meaningful connections simply by enquiring about the well-being of people from a genuine place. There is a saying I heard a lot growing up in the UK, and being mixed in with so many cultures. Shy bairns get nowt. It essentially means that if you don’t ask then you don’t receive. If you require something in your life, then all you have to do is find the right person to ask.

I know a lot of you are from across the ocean and cannot attend these events, but if you have the means, then I urge you to get communal. If you cannot find a place that supports you, then create it. I can promise you that you are not alone in your desires. You are not the only one in need of a specific thing. As Yellow Lamp moves forward, we are hosting board game nights, make your own dumpling nights, poetry dnd, movie nights and a bunch of other evenings dedicated to being hands-on and close. We are adding an open mic to every event and finding ways to incorporate art into places where art usually doesn’t exist. We are holding workshops and daring people to be creative.

If I want you to take one thing from this, it is that there is space for you in this world. There are people who hum the same melodies, who feel equally hopeless finding their people, but they are out there. I know it can be scary to go to new places and meet new people. I know failure is a real feeling, and creating a space and it not working out is disheartening, but we need to get back out into the world. We need people who dare to try to build spaces with community as the foundation. This is not my first effort, and I am grateful I have finally made something that people are responding to, but it took a great deal of work. If you see a community event that interests you, then please attend it. Being around people with the same passions is a therapy. Daring to explore another person’s passions is a therapy. Online spaces can be great, and I am proud of what Woofenberry is here, but we need that connection with the real world, too.

I am planning on some more Zoom workshops soon, so we can at least have a real-time connection. If you feel lost or have a desire for something, then remember, all you have to do is ask. Shy bairns get nowt.

Until next time, Woofenberry’s

Keep kind and stay true x

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I do not know if it is the age or the uphill, but I long so much for quiet. I am noticing more noise these days. I sleep lighter than I ever have. I am pulled from a dream by a bang a few doors down, or the snoring of the old pipes. I am affected by the sounds around me. They determine my focus and abilities, and even have the power to make me entirely …

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They share the same approach of focusing…

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Since I began thinking about this concept, I have undergone many changes in my understanding of additional …

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A Short Stay In Hell by Steven L. Peck

A few scenes in this book are quite graphic, but overall, it is a tame read. It might even be a stretch to consider this a horror. The premise is simple. A man dies and is sent to hell, but he isn’t trapped in hell forever; there is a way out. At first glance, it isn’t even that difficult, and he is given a bed and a vendor that can produce any meal he pleases. There is no hellfire or strict torture; it is more mentally taxing. Once the extent of the conditions sets in, it is truly terrifying, and you can imagine the battle you’d have with your sanity. This book comes in at 110 pages, and I wouldn’t recommend looking more into it. It is a great read, and going in blind will benefit it even more. I read this twice in quick succession, and it made me think of different versions of hell that are secretive in their hellishness.

Sour Candy by Kealan Patrick Burke

This book is super weird. It comes in at only 84 pages and features a man who takes candy from a child at a grocery store, which changes his life forever. It is a play on the old warning of not taking candy from strangers. A few parts are stomach-churning, but it is mostly just a small haunting story that will stay with you for a long while. I love the pacing of this book and how it doesn’t waste time getting into it. The kid is creepy, and I would likely kick him over the garden fence if this happened to me. This experience gets a big nope from me, but it makes a great read.

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Last Wednesday, I did a lecture about the human seasons and wanted to bring that discussion here. The concept of human seasons is that everything we feel belongs to an internal season. Some things can leak into all seasons, much like rain does, but there are specific indicators to tell us what season we are currently in. This is a big, complex discussio…

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Limited space within a poem is often seen as merely limiting; however, there are many times when the lack is actually a gift. When it comes to haiku, four poets are often considered the great masters: Matsuo Bashō, Yosa Buson, Kobayashi Issa, and Masaoka Shiki. These poets helped refine and shape the haiku tradition, which is commonly structured in a 5-…

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Today, we are going to look at idioms, which add fun and intrigue to your writing. The ancient Greek word “idioma” means “peculiar phraseology, which sums up idioms well. They are commonly used expressions with a figurative meaning rather than a literal one. There are subsections of idioms, but for now, we will look at the picture as a whole.

Did you fix…

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I am fascinated by progress and how the world reshapes itself into the form of its current era. I am noticing such an increase in the unpracticed. People are taking on art and executing it without relevant experience or qualifications. Of course, art can be self-taught, but there seems to be less desire for the learning and a more immediate want to be s…

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Poem

I’m at the age where I kind of understand golf

but I’m young enough to still hate it.

When I hear the word party now

I assume nobody is dancing

other than the laughter

and the eagerness to leave.

My bedtime took up skydiving.

I’ve started looking at midnight

the way one might see a ghost.

My knees creak like a haunted house.

All of my dreams have mildew.

Peopl…

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The Cowbody Sextape sessions was a recording period where I wrote and recorded a bunch of poems for a Western Poetry book called ‘Cowboy Sextape’. Here is a little sample.

Keep Kind & Stay True x

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Fitting that I recorded this when it was raining. I thought I would read a poem to you, as I definitely don’t do it enough. Another frequent thing to add to 2026? I think so. Here is the transcript:

I Miss Cheeseburgers

and cold pizza in the morning.

I miss the way rain feels on my skin

and being drenched to the bone.

I miss bones

and the way

I’d crack my knuckles

when it was time to get to work.

I don’t miss work.

If I could haunt my boss,

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I began doing the challenges last year, and I adore the concept I created; however, digital badges, however hard I attempted to make them look good, fell off. It didn’t capture the vision I had, and it didn’t feel like an actual reward. This is why I am going to be doing the complete vision, which is physical badges. I will send mail every April, August…

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Granted, this prompt is a strange one. Please take an animal call and translate it, whether it is the neighbour's dog barking, the birds singing in the morning, or the crickets chirping in the distance. What are they calling out for? What are they feeling? This doesn’t necessarily need to be dialogue-heavy; instead, it details what the call means.

This …

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The beginning

Day 2 (E)

Okay, don’t panic. The rock has gone, and it’s now just a river, even underneath us. The boosters auto-started because tech is cool, or we’d be sinking right now. How does solid ground just liquify? I got Pep to run some tests, and it’s water. Plain, boring water. The climate is pretty perfect for a swim, and I would jump in, but the massive lillipad makes me think there’s some giant creature somewhere. The scans show nothing, but I don’t have 100% confidence in them after what happened to Stevie. R. I. P.

Day 2 cont (E)

I have made the decision to name this planet Yaga because it is a shapeshifting witch. At sunset, right before my eyes, the river became a jungle. The ground dried up, vines shot up from nowhere, and now we are being constricted by them. Likely to death. We are doomed, I tell you! DOOMED!

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This is another new poem I have performed only once, and since that performance, it has changed a great deal. It was written because of my obsession with aftermath, which I will discuss in a newsletter soon. Everything has an aftermath, and we exist continuously in a state of aftermath. You are where you are as a result of some decision. If you’re a believer in other dimensions, then there is a version of you in another aftermath. Before I derail and ramble for pages, here is a love poem stemming from this thinking.

Keep Kind and Stay True x

My love know this

I will hold you in any aftermath,

whether it be the flicker or the still light.

I will hold you until we are dust,

and in the next life

I will find you.

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