lost (Remove filter)
At The Grave Of St Valentine
there's a point on the map when
doubts and desapir veer to meet
and idly parade nowhere down a
lonely slum of a one-way street
no compass charts this latitude
where time gross reality bends
for its a quarter of lifeless loss
the geography where love ends
I've drifted here so many times
its memories my endless bane
before me for I sense a reprise
I am sure...
Sunday 14th February 2021 11:16 am
Recent Comments
Jonathan Humble on The Safety of Clouds
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Performance (Kryvyi Rih 5.4.25)
2 hours ago
Hélène on The Measure of a Person
3 hours ago
John Coopey on THESE BOOTS AREN'T MADE FOR WALKING
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Safety of Clouds
6 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Roll The Dice 🎲🎲
6 hours ago
Tom Doolan on The Coniston 14
6 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Easter Time for Palestine [Global Day of Civil Disobedience]
6 hours ago
AirlogRigsMaria on Plate of Plenty
7 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Coniston 14
7 hours ago