With the morning sun, rises the new fears. The night’s darkness  Replaced by the day The silent footsteps  And the unseen views  Such are My ways these days. Chemical mind - diluted,  Articulation, With the evening moon And the pilled friends. Photo by Bob Ward on Pexels.com About the Poet: Robin McNamara lives in Waterford... Continue Reading →

I assemble all I possess out of cold ground. At certain moments, something's rude, another thing prefixes everything I do. I manage to clear space away from the precipice. Both things, ground and precipice, are in order: one denies another in each wave of features. Time is occupied with what is inborn. These assessments under... Continue Reading →

You, with a wax masque of a Summer rain, inconstant scatterbrain Know: the love of fathers is hell on a st(ake)rand! You, with your limb more stiff than the dogmas of Lucifer. Who have you forgot to permeate: The Woman: who is a river ( for she flowed to you) The Daughter: who is volcanine... Continue Reading →

In the soles of your boots I followed you, piecemeal, down the stairs. Down and down you went unaware that your cruelty held me hostage. It's not an exaggeration to say that you were a psychopath and I am certain that there are others who suspected. Only a shell could protect against your trespass and... Continue Reading →