(a poem for the hills that remember)

There is a silence the world cannot name—

a silence not born of fear,

but of memory,

and men who have seen too much to speak.

Between the spears,

hung gently on bamboo walls,

something waits.

Not war.

Not peace.

Something older.

The boy in Mon sharpens wood not for battle,

but because his father did.

And his fath...

Read and leave comments (3)

The 1st stanza asks a question to which the answer is, of course, “No”. John Milton wrote Areopagitica, an argument against censorship.

Sadly, in the Britain of 2025, poets, artists, journalists, religious leaders and The Man on the Clapham Omnibus now face routine harrassment by the UK Government and the police, enduring arrest and imprisonment without charge or trial: and for what? for oppos...

Read and leave comments (4)

There are things a poet shouldn’t do

like fly a plane or fix a shoe

Or hang a picture on the wall

it will either slant, or fall

Any vocation that makes you bored

Accountancy is best ignored

Adopting an extreme yoga position

is at odds with a poetic disposition

Woodwork, tapestry or macrame

Joining the Territorial Army

Playing golf or running a bar

No poet...

Read and leave comments (7)

“Normality is a paved road:

it’s comfortable to walk,

but no flowers grow on it.”

Vincent Van Gogh.

The path that I choose is oft times, a rough one,

but better by far than the sterile paved desert:

yes, oft times I’ll stumble and sometimes I’ll fall,

but what use is certainty, knowing it all?

A better path’s found, as an old way is...

Read and leave comments (6)

SAOIRSE CAINTE !

🌷💐💗💪🌷

SAOIRSE DON KNEECAP!

💐💗💪🌷💐💗 💪

SAOIRSE DON PHALAISTÍN !

💐💗💪🌷💐💗 💪🌷

MO SHEACHT MBEANNACHT ORT, PHALAISTÍN !

💗💪🌷💐💗 💪🌷 💐💗💪🌷💐💗

MO SHEACHT MBEANNACHT ORT, KNEECAP !

🌷💐💗💪🌷💐💗💪🌷💐🌷💐💗

MY SEVEN BLESSINGS ON YOU, KNEECAP !

💪🌷💐💗💪🌷💐💗💪🌷💐

CAPALL NA BEATHA AN GRÁ, KNEECAP !

💪🌷💐💗💪🌷💐💗💪🌷💐

LOVE MAKES THE WORLD GO ROUND, KNEECAP !

Read and leave comments (2)

Every room I enter feels like a stage, and I’m the actor that forgets the lines 
The constriction gnawing in my throat as I feel the acid burn 
I see their faces alight with joy, reeling in echoes of my defeat 
I bat my eyes, look to the floor with crumbling hands, the nails bitten off 
If only I could peel away the skin of doubt and wear something lighter
Tear away the facade of perfection t...

Read and leave comments (0)