poetry (Remove filter)
The Origin of Silence
He came like an ancient prophecy
sparked by the howling of the seasons.
Those who pursued him knew nothing of his arts
They did not see him sewn into the four winds
They did not hear him no matter how loud he sang.
In this time of virus and plague true hunger bares its teeth.
A fierce breaking, a shaking and a flailing
A swooning and a sweating, a cruel fever falling
All ab...
Sunday 7th August 2022 6:39 am
Recent Comments
Mike McPeek on Fallen Leaf
1 hour ago
Graham Sherwood on The Forgotten
3 hours ago
Rolph David on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
4 hours ago
Hélène on Elementary
4 hours ago
Rolph David on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
5 hours ago
Rolph David on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
5 hours ago
Tim Daly on Prayer for the Little Ones
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Prayer for the Little Ones
6 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Prayer for the Little Ones
6 hours ago