CAVE HILL (POEM)

drunken mountain ever sleeping far above brown belfast, dirty men with dirty feet dancing ever noble and soaring, beneath are weeping women and ragged ould linen, bravery hidden within the white eyed children of hope

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THE ARTIST (POEM)

never good enough this picture, the last picture the next picture an internal struggle between my unspoken self and the bountious beauty of life, longing to preserve the petal to immortalise those steady wave patterns on Holywood’s shoreline the touch of her hair on a frosty January morning all soft and fluid and flowing AND … Continue reading THE ARTIST (POEM)

RUBICON

stiff, straight wire teaching the men the science of fractions   dividing up well levelled soil into piecemeal parts till all is lovely   barriers in place bold and unfettered priceless   humble them by means of mathematics and magnetism just be spooky, that's quite enough