separation (Remove filter)
Textures of shame
Glass sides tip away the hope of perception and cameras flash away any hint of reflection
at this hub of metal minds and stiff bodies.
This soft grey raven digs for existence among the steel nest of discardment.
Every sip a taste of us, our residue his everything.
Around me, gold fingered bird-watchers with their fogged up binoculors,
tasting their uncessary glory.
Molten pride down th...
Thursday 20th November 2014 3:30 pm
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Bonnie Madleen
9 hours ago
Hélène on Letting Go
12 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on BUCKET LIST
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Letting Go
15 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on part savage, part human
15 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Down on my uppers
15 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., Poem 61 of 230: WORSLEY VILLAGE
15 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Anyone For Tennis
15 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Compost
15 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on part savage, part human
15 hours ago