Friends (Remove filter)
Beat to my own drum - NaPoWriMo Day 5
Adopt
Saint Stephen's tale
It's Friday, sweets from Mrs Smith
Degeneration X and anarchy
Frankie's words: two tables, four chairs, suspension.
Discovered passing the buck, and thus passed it.
Stole the show with Twenty-one Questions, four dancers, and a singer.
First girlfriend changed everything, "You're young, she has baggage - get rid..." … did...
A pla...
Sunday 7th April 2013 3:01 pm
Finding the Beauty in Christmas
Mistletoe by candlelight,
love lined Christmas markets,
shopping centres full of happy couples.
Let them have what I do not,
it is theirs.
But what is mine?
My Christmas must come early
if I am to maintain the mirage of the miracle.
I'll line the markets with an illuminating
indigo light
and bathe in the dreams
that will...
Sunday 11th December 2011 8:24 pm
Home
They say home is where the heart is
and my heart is where the art lives.
So where is my home?
Art lives within us all
and begins an internal/external exchange...
a process
like humanity to trees.
We stop, relax, breathe
as one.
So where is my home?
First Contact was my spiritual home
gave meat and marrow to
broken sp...
Tuesday 8th November 2011 11:33 pm
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on June 2025 Collage Poem: You Watched the Trains Come, You Watched the Trains Go
2 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
7 hours ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
23 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
1 day ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
1 day ago