Three times we met in the space of a single month. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. That’s not a coincidence. Things don’t happen that commonly, I thought, without a reason, a purpose. Yet, even as I thought this, I began to doubt it. A man can be in two minds, as the saying…Read more The Last Hurrah of a Hungry Poet
Write me a poem of love and hate, of ugly things that glow within the hot coal grate of empathy, breathtaking beauty, nurtured in a furnace of self respect and mutual regard, nothing twisted or circumspect, cast, sincere intent, forged true and pure on an anvil of stone, a rock of ages to withstand the…Read more Bloom
If you don't know Imelda May, you should. Writing about her makes me dyslexic, I can love or loathe her but I still listen. Ok, I've had the advantage of listening to her, as a teenager, singing back up vocals to bands in Dublin pubs. I watched her enthral a pub of Irish music fans…Read more LiveLoveFleshBlood…Brilliant
Seventy years since the survivors' of Auschwitz were liberated, I was watching a tv documentary where six of them recounted their stories of survival and the terrible aftermath they've endured, of nightmares and tragedies. One Polish man, Dr Tadeusz Smreczynski, who became a doctor and practiced general medicine within ten minutes of the camp gates,…Read more Tosca’s Tale
Y'know that moment, when someone who broke your heart, swings into view , whether by accident or design and you're left drained and speechless? She looked in through the saloon window A blast from the past Her shame or his blame No honesty No trust Return to remind Twist the knife Salt the wound Where…Read more Blast the Past©
I've been listening to I'm Not Bossy, I'm the Boss by Sinead O'Connor before I'm overwhelmed by comments and misguided reviews. Of those, I've read a few. Some spoke of a new maturity while others toyed with the notion of Sinead, the auteur, creating 'characters' with and about whom she can spin tales of forlorn…Read more Who’s the Boss?