22 years young
Irish wanderer: citizen of the world 49 stamps on the ol' passport in 4 years.
Writer. Visual artist.
Unorthodox Christian if there ever was one.
Horny but keep your alans on. I'm a lover not the fekkin Giro Playboy.

 

melodicpulse:

Seasonal Depression
The sun fades,
shadows invade.Feelings persuade me to sleep endless daysaway. The snow falls, white cover’s all.Frozen strength keeps me from climbing smallwalls. Ifadefall.Winter calls.

Fantastic piece.

melodicpulse:

Seasonal Depression

The sun fades,


shadows invade.
Feelings persuade me to sleep endless days
away.

The snow falls,
white cover’s all.
Frozen strength keeps me from climbing small
walls.

I
fade
fall.

Winter
calls.

Fantastic piece.

naked-veritas asked
Your posts get lost in all the porn on my dash. I missed them.

Thanks, mate. I rather miss your posts as well. I should get back on the habit of this now shall I?

bite-mehh asked
Hmmm you've been gone for quite sometime...glad you're back! :)

Thanks! How are you, love?

Yuletide

Loneliness served cold on Christmas cheer

I have no room for you here in my arms any

longer. Though I have had you as a friend for

far too many years, I am now inside the snow,

with my arms full of wonder. I am safe here

from the echoing, distant thunder of your

misery loving company. I am wrapped around

her warm body, and I am warm for her tonight.

We needn’t your company this Christmas, now

that every thing is right. And though for many

many years I have had loneliness beside me.

Now with gran above, my granddad close, I

no longer feel alone. People now may leave me

but always I am home. Home, I am for Christmas

and home for ever more.


~ Declan Gallagher

Happy Christmas to all! I apologise for my absence. I have been terribly busy.

whatwhatwhat?: Love Poem

hoyisabel:

by John Frederick Nims

My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,
And have no cunning with any soft thing

Except all ill-at-ease fidgeting people:
The refugee uncertain at the door
You…

Mozart with Kathleen by Bill Holm

accidentalvter:

In honor of your death, my friend Kathleen,
I go to the piano, play half the four-hand Mozart
we worked at for so many years.
The bass is sadder now, because the tune
slid over and off the top of the keyboard
and disappeared in the winter air,
leaving this row of forty ivory slabs
interrupted by black wedges of wood
silent and still as a sculpture garden
closed now for the season. But listen—
the ghost tune still sounds deep
in the caverns of the ear, the ghost hands
still searching for the right fingering.
We’ll get it right yet, Kathleen,
but only you and I will ever know or hear.

Maya and I have set this nativity scene in my bedroom. ;D I rather fancy it over the original. The liberties we took with it are bloody brill.

Maya and I have set this nativity scene in my bedroom. ;D I rather fancy it over the original. The liberties we took with it are bloody brill.

lavieenwords asked
nice to see you back, stranger.

I apologise for missing in action! I’ve been rather busy taking care of my grandad as well as with my girlfriend. How are you love?

all who love have lied.: You Are So Small and Slight in the Rain

thecynicsyndrome:

You are so small and slight in the rain. A small target
for the raindrops, for the dust in summer,
and for bomb fragments too. Your belly is slack,
not like the tight flat skin of a drum: the flabiness
of the third generation. Your grandfather, the pioneer,
drained the swamps. Now the swamps have…

The remarkable thing about Shakespeare is that he really is very good, in spite of all the people who say he is very good.

Robert Graves (via ohsocolourful)