You might say
the joke about the banana
(he wasn’t peeling well)
was train station rhetoric.

You might think
that Bonnie the landlady
and the story of the misplaced pension
sounds like a…

A tiny man stands at a tiny lectern and looks out two tiny windows. On his platform atop a tight spiral staircase he waits for the fog to subside. It’s time.

He clears his throat and speaks into the oversized microphone suspended from the domed ceiling.

His commentary starts slowly — he notes the happenings outside the window, remarks in accordance with the environment in the dome — textbook stuff.

But soon he’s all warmed up and he starts improvising. He leers at a woman’s ass, throws speculation, plans revenge, talks of grandeur, talks of worthlessness, repeats himself, refuses to…

When my grandma crawled up the stairs
she explained it simply.
This bit’s tricky, she said,
I crawl up like a baby.

The words became wedged in my chest.
An uncomfortable…

I was having a bad time.

I say bad,
not because I’m a rubbish poet
(although I am)
but because when you’re really having
a bad time,
it’s easier to just say bad
than it is to explain whatever the chemical
slop inside your head
is manifesting as today.

I went for a run.

I say run,
really it was more of a jog
(OK a walk)
and the world had dialled up the whimsy,
(just for me?)
As if to say

Oh you think you’re a poet now?
Well here, spectate as this kookaburra
catches an absurdly lengthy worm.

I start work again in 2 days,
and I’m sitting here,
in the worst bar I could find,
writing a fucking poem.

A poem,
a worthless poem,
a poem with zero return on investment,
a poem that won’t pay the bills.

A hard, heavy, rock made of inevitability
reminds me that soon I’ll have to pretend again
that workforce management platforms are of interest to me.

Brows furrow,
necks crane forward,
heads nod -
Yes, I’ll have to think about that.

*An interval as my nachos and second pint of IPA arrives*

What’s your work prison like?
Maybe you’ve been given…

Turbulence overcomes the plane,
And the children laugh.

As their parents grip the handrests,
They giggle.

The cabin crew look around reassuringly,
As one hundred sweaty fingers are linked,
And we all…

There is a secret church. It promises bliss, immortality, a voluptuous woman to feed you grapes from God’s personal stash — the usual religious nonsense — but only if you adhere to a single rule: Whenever you’re in a narrow alleyway, or on an escalator, or on a busy path you must walk slowly, placing oneself perfectly in the centre of the path and flanked either side with obstacles; positioned precisely so that the space around you is too narrow for somebody to squeeze past without awkwardly brushing against you. You must maintain this measured pace, adopting a wide gait…

Gardening is not for me, I thought,
Imagine being a servant to a plant -
Hungry, thirsty, dry, wet,

Maybe herbs,
A practical investment for flavours sake
That doesn’t demand much but rewards generously
could be an exception, I ventured.
But gardening is not for me,
Don’t you even think it.

Plastic crunches as the seedlings are prodded
Out of their temporary home,
And into the care of a naive man,
That embarrasses the basil
By confusing nurture with labour.

The chillies are assertive in their allure,
Daring you to ignore their transformation
Knowing that even naive men,
Will succumb to boyish…

I recently experimented with a side project using React Native. As a Front-End Developer I am familiar with React and was interested in discovering the similarities and differences between the platforms. Most of the differences didn’t bother me, except for one that I couldn’t get past — Styling in React Native.

Photo by Pankaj Patel on Unsplash

React Native encourages you to use their StyleSheet API that looks a bit like this:

const Home = () => {
return (
<View style={styles.container}>
<Text style={styles.heading}>Heading goes here</Text>
const styles = StyleSheet.create({
container: {
display: 'flex',
alignItems: 'center'
heading: {
textTransform: 'uppercase'

Photo by bruce mars on Unsplash

You know the feeling. Maybe it’s 2am and you just can’t go to sleep because the stupid code isn’t behaving how you expect it to. Maybe you’ve read countless articles on the topic but for some reason it just hasn’t been explained to you in a way that clicks.

Until it does. And it’s magical.

It’s hard to predict these moments, but when they happen it’s immensely satisfying. For me these moments are at the core of what I enjoy about being a developer: be confused, have a breakthrough, level up, repeat. …

Andrew Bloyce

Designer, dev, ocassional poet.

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