THANK YOU, WITH LOVE FROM EAT THE STORMS

Hello from Eat The Storms, 1 day old today. A huge thank you to everyone for your support, love, light, joy, colour & for embracing my poetry collection. An extra huge thank you Mark Davidson- creator of the Hedgehog Poetry Press, my publisher- I keep waking up but the dream is still here! And also, […]

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THE HAND OF HUME

  I was in Paris at the time- drawing rabbits on chalkboards in an Irish pub, on a Friday, in a cut-off corner of Chinatown. Joanna had studied in Queens, Mum was over from Dublin and Anna and I had promised each other forever friends though we barely survived the slow pull of a decent […]

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WRECKAGE, AFTER THE REVERIE

  Restless morning after night’s twist. From day we’d split like shadows Into the swallow of darkness But dreams are billowy breaths That toss ships under sheets Of stormy seas and we- single sleepers Under the blindness, washing up And through time and buried thought. Restless morning after night’s twist. Lip trembles at dream’s touch […]

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BIRD SONG

  I stroll in soft sundown across the cushioned grass, the earth a pillow I never stopped to consider, I consider going in, inside to where the light looks neat and named but a bird calls from a branch I cannot see, sight comes in second after his song- soft, slow and cycling back on […]

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BLANK CANVASES

  Light can be ubiquitous, even in the darkness of youth but it’s not always lucid- sometimes it twists shadows into shapes that seem so much more sinister. Innocence is a bright spark that can be knocked down to stunted shadow by a thoughtless twist in the tale or a pedestal pitched at an imperfect […]

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WHEN WE COME TO PRESS THIS TIME UPON THE PAGE

  Come friends to gather at end of cycle Spring is done and summer will have new song, Time will tell of when it all went viral Of distance that reigned and hold that was wrong. Come friends to pressure pen upon the page Thoughtless is time if man won’t leave his mark- Sing of […]

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A QUESTION OF POMEGRANATE ANSWERS

  I saw you first in a library, in a bound book on front of the light, as if you needed to ripen any further. My first book, bound and borrowed from a library, was Mrs. Potter’s inquisitive rabbit Peter, all eager to explore the taste of all he could not yet name. We’re like […]

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