art (Remove filter)
Final Masterpiece
She was a painter and he was a performer. Both artists molded with talent but divided by passion. Nonetheless they connected emotionally and spiritually. Her canvas illustrated bright myriads of color and abstract scenes of memories and mental photographs. He sang with an emptiness of blues and love ballads intertwined with lost hopes and faded dreams. Empty acrylic paint tubes and coffee stained ...
Wednesday 22nd October 2014 8:02 pm
Actions vs Words
(I've been struggling to show anyone this poem for a long time but I've been inspired to let it free. These feelings are behind me now and it turns out writing was to thank for that afterall)
How does someone stop cutting?
Do they cut into the paper instead?
Replace flesh and blood with diaries and ink,
Replace physicality with mentality,
Replace actions with words,
It isn’t enough.
...Saturday 13th September 2014 11:35 am
Recent Comments
Holden Moncrieff on Better Sight...
57 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'What can writers and poets possibly do in the age of Trump, Farage and Starmer?'
1 hour ago
Mike McPeek on Civilities
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
2 hours ago
John Marks on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
3 hours ago
Hélène on Better Sight...
3 hours ago
Hélène on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
3 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Where is THIS Jerusalem?
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on A Cut Above
5 hours ago