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Article 5
Tied at the kitchen sink, screams captured, by the ceiling – photos in the sitting room tell a different story. Tears unseen, all that was left was a girl in a box, buried alive, if only she’d been...
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Article 4
Image: Tony Murphy -Boyle’s Gaelic ChieftainFiled under: Poetry Tagged: beauty, creative writing, culture, life, loss, love, marriage, photography, poem, poems, poet, poetry, sadness, soul
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Article 3
In your brokenness I found comfort. a feeling I know so well, at home in the awkwardness. there was no need to speak, I knew what you had to say. Because with every beginning, there is always an...
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Article 2
Fall again, nature’s efficiency satisfies me with the consistency of sunsets I no longer watch still I might like to see one more the crisp air stinging my face leaves crackling underfoot air expanding...
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Article 1
Should you have asked me to stay, I would have. Every empty apology perforates my brain. As I close my heart, I consider the humanness of my invisibility… -L.J. Lenehan-Filed under: Poetry Tagged:...
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Elephant Girl
My heart, the elephant of my fate, broken and painful stumbling through this journey, without a herd, without compassion, without a lover, I walk through hot coals laid for me by you, singing my skin,...
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Article 0
Dancing angrily, the air of the chimney – whips surly flames mocking tales of fairy endings creations of the devil tempting us all to one more day of wishes, suffering, happiness trivial mysteries....
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Another Dime Store Prince
Another dime store prince living in a nineteenth century ice box. Empty aluminium clamours in the night. He’d already packed my things but wanted my truths. Frozen by fear, my truths are muted, frost...
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Forever Alone
In the dimly lit street a rusty blade in hand my aorta throbs in the endless torture of forever alone waiting for Our Lady to illuminate the urban decay -L.J. Lenehan Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged:...
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Morning Truths
When you wake looking for me one last time – remember: silently, how cold I was, the night no one came. Dry your tears in her soft hair – where memories, of me, will be carried away by armies of lice....
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