On Thursday, December 20th 2018, our recently reappointed President Michael D. Higgins (affectionately referred to as Miggedly Higgins), signed the Health (Regulation of Termination of Pregnancy) Bill of 2018 into law. The final flourishes required to give the gift of choice to the women of Ireland will be applied by Minister for Health Simon Harris, via the signing of statutory instruments. This ...
as the sun settled
you taught me the beauty
in transience; drifting
junk boats on the water,
as creatures we’re fleeting,
so let us collect all
instants of ecstasy,
gilded in memory,
ephemeral in deed:
indeed to be treasured.
the corporate colt-45 chants triple 6:
the mark of the much-maligned beast.
the spectre of ‘progress’; consistent and callous:
bulldozing the dreams of small business owners,
scorching the earth and upending the locals.
an aging man pivots a sign on the door
of his family store for the very last time,
from ‘open’ to ‘closed’: the final rotation
repeats in his dreams w...
i sat and watched a kettle boil,
as several lifetimes whipped by
no heat passed through the coil.
i dreamt i was standing on a mountain's edge,
next i was clinging to a skyscraper's ledge,
i pictured myself suspended high up in the sky,
like my disbelief -- how'd my mouth get so dry?
this cup of coffee will surely deliver
the kick that i crave to grant me a sliver
to sunshine tickling the flora,
the oaks and the pines
manifesting an aura,
the chills down your spine
run rapid like bobsleds,
in a race to the finish-
line up and be placed
on society’s conveyor belt
or see through the hoax,
our vision was tunneled,
our best efforts coaxed,
the focus on what’s next
steals soul from the moment,
pilfered and pawned o...
we lost ourselves
in a swirl of smoke;
in a hall of mirrors,
leaving the museum,
covered the floor,
on the trudge through
to the bierhaus,
we lost us:
now and then i revisit on occasion –
then and now.
we stayed too long,
missed the last tram home,
and giggled like a clan
of drunken hyenas.
it was all a part of the plan...
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"have you ever stopped to consider how many people didn't screw up for you to be sitting here tonight?"
mental health is a topic that is much more comfortable to avoid. it is a hard truth. as down as one may feel, i fully believe that the nature of the universe is an on/off system. everything is constantly in transition. even us. especially us. but yet, this is a topic we don't want to address, ...
i rolled out of my bed this morning,
i admired the garden and picturesque awnings,
whether trough or crest - well, i'd still be yawning,
arabesque decor spells out "culture whore"
it's a sad fact that the wealthy ignore,
that nobody; not one person is keeping score,
sweet fancy moses -- i would loathe to be bored
at opulence compounded, could i ask for more?
i gave it all u...
you must think i came down in the last shower
snatched straight off the stork
you’re oh so grown; holding all power
in the palm of your hand
THAT’S how you finesse a narrative
you can’t keep one straight:
the story had changed before i finished my plate —
events rearranged — still
it strikes me as strange
these tactics are mangy —
what i pine to see
is more neo-soul
more humanists with
arms flung open wide
embracing those in need of shelter
like my ancestral brethren
i want to see them settled in…
“your own back yard”
what i yearn to see:
a future in which
a moral issue
swallowed by the sea
no matter the muster
that moves the leaves
continues to blow,
no matter the bluster,
waving to greet you
and welcome you home
no matter the yearning,
to summer's night sky,
stars keep their distance:
upon charcoal slate
and cosmic canvas,
a comic display
It appears to be a form of universal intuition that sound can deeply affect our physiological and emotional states. We see this in the meditative trance state induced by the chants of Buddhist monks. One could claim that far removed from spiritual practice, we can hear that one tune dropped in the club which instantly fills up the dance-floor and forces you to jack your body -- although I would sa...
darling do you realise,
the mist that swirls inside your eyes?
in the evening time, stretched wide to house the moon,
you grin and check my vital signs,
then trace the course of my palm-lines,
etched paths twist and turn, converge, and all return to you,
was it the tracing of your finger?
at certain times you seem to linger,
longer in my mind’s eye than the credit you’ve been d...
rorschach blotter soaked into bitter spittle,
ink loaded heavy in my pen -
and clumsy on the outlet,
thoughts drowned quicker than bricks inside a bag of kittens,
bound and tossed swiftly into winter's murky river,
shattered squid attacks straight-shafted the first draft,
redacted all detail of what it means to be a quitter.
i'm dipping my toes into the waters of music production once more -- take a listen if you're a fan of Madvillain, MF DOOM or just have ears and a couple of minutes to kill ;)
you can check it out here!
props to youtuber Redcomet_ for the acapella.
too much to digest: time’s up for mastication,
noob meet rubix cube; more mental masturbation,
mark it with an ‘x’ like some kind of destination,
saw god reflected in the mirror at the train station,
slipped discs, backs out: big risk,
stay in; go fish --
could’ve split the last dish,
feeling bait like the fly on the hook,
reeling? still shook — belly empty ton...