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The Rest of My Life: Thinking...

6:00 am Howling cat fed. Now it's time for my first coffee, then my quiet half-hour in the armchair. As usual, once her bowl's empty, Daisy comes in...
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Traces of Time

TRACES OF TIME THE SHAPE OF TIME UNWINDS ITS PATH THAT WAS FORETOLD: NOW MEMORIES ARE SHAPED AS A MOSAIC DISPLAY OF WHAT IRONY CALLS REALITY. LIKE...
Gold cherry

That's Dream Pop

The style of music we Irish seem perfectly attuned to is not the sombre ballad, or those racing jigs of our traditions, nor is it the country croon...
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Cherry

Introducing Turlough Ó Maoláin, Performance Poet

My April, the second of two parts, and restricted to 100 words per day because less is more, and I am the Ludwig Mies van der Rohe of village gossip.
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Gold cherry
Pick of the Month

The Fish on the Hill

My April, the first of two parts, and restricted to 100 words per day so that I can’t be accused of banging on about it.
4 likes
Gold cherry

To Go Completely Under

A Sudden Lavender ’s publication made headlines countrywide, and even garnered moderate attention far beyond our waters, with a rave review appearing...
1 likes
Gold cherry

last words of a sacrificial lamb

for as long as i can recall, anger has never been an emotion that has come easily to me. ‘frustration’ has always more aptly described the feeling of...
Gold cherry

Hot Cross Buns and Fish and Chips

It’s that one hundred words thing again, covering the second half of March when I was mostly in England.
1 likes