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
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
18 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
22 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Fallen Leaf
30 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
36 minutes ago
Yanma Hidayah on The heart that waited
38 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SUPPORT GENOCIDE ACTION I OPPOSE PALESTINE ACTION
44 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'Little Boy' 6/8/1945 (80 Years Ago)
53 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Starved.
57 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on A SEASON THAT SKIPPED US?
58 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Elementary
1 hour ago