samuel beckett (Remove filter)
(aɪˈdəʊlɒn)
now those eidolic dread horses have scarred your slumber, passed 9, passed 10, and even your furniture has silent, open mouthed, nightmares over the too soon dead, dead school friends who never ended their crossings and see, see, she stoops, in shroud ghastly knelt as in prayer but you can’t see, see through the tricks of light that scream “she is there”, your crumpling chest boiling as the bo...
Sunday 27th April 2014 12:54 pm
Recent Comments
Stephen Gospage on Target
1 hour ago
Jon on Innocents' Deadly Foe
4 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Good to be back!
4 hours ago
Mike McPeek on A Somewhat Short Poem About Almost Nothing
7 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Finedon
10 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 28. Politic-toc-tic-toc-tic toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc-tic]
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on When Genocidal savagery meets the useless outrageous ignorance of closed eyes
12 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on When Genocidal savagery meets the useless outrageous ignorance of closed eyes
13 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on Target
14 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on Haven for timelessness
14 hours ago