Splendid Isolation of Different

One day the shepherdtended to his flock,up in the highest mountain.But away from all the others,was a solitary sheep—It was different from all the others.It wouldn’t answer to theshepherd’s call to return from the mountain.‘It must see something I can’t see’—mused the shepherd.So he left his flock.Happily grazing away on the sparse grassin the foothillsContinue reading “Splendid Isolation of Different”

The Critic

The Critic Expansive dreams grow wild:words are drowned in verbosity. (Firing up the appetency for acceptance.) I cast a dream catcher for thosespecial words with an iridescence angle. Critics with their parochial musings,Have: your fractiousness asDistasteful, with their laconic smirks. What do they know,What do they know. by Robin McNamara © 2020

When We Were In Lockdown

When We Were In Lockdown In the yellowed skies  translucent with ivory stars  there lay peace.  I sat on the back door steps  staring up at constellations  mapping my destiny; so far away  like shivering lights.  Moonlight blankets the garden  with graceful light.  Come, come the winters call,  The squall yet to arrive. Cold, cold dew theContinue reading “When We Were In Lockdown”

Halloween Fear

HALLOWEEN FEAR Demons howl and banshees screechAs the dead are alive again.Little children with their sugar rushSaying, “trick or treat?”Michael Myers knocks on your doorIt’s not really him is it? Maybe..Twilight moon illuminatesdecaying trees with branchesPointing skywards accusinglyTowards the night time skies,Full of witches on broomsticks.The fear is near as a man quite grimBegins toContinue reading “Halloween Fear”

In the Quiet Space

In the Quiet Space. Listen: to the quietness.It’s deafening/unsettling/unique.The commercial corridors,whistles/bells/horns and radio- gone.Streets in the quiet space,echoing:“Hello lo lo lo.”Catch the dregs of last crowds sunquickly—comes the darkness/quietness.Empty streets echo out;“Where are you all?”Weeded in a new-apocalypse-look,The window shops showingOut of season looks.But In this quite space I found myself. by Robin McNamara ©Continue reading “In the Quiet Space”

Twenty-Seven Months

TWENTY-SEVEN MONTHS Twenty sevenmonths agoIn a bottled landof awakeningdread Laid my soullike deadgarden leaves. The vicissitudes of this coatI woreon daysstagnated with the sweatof toilon roads ofrocks. An unforgivingSaharan desertin the house of I No prophet, nor no scholarcouldWater the unknownsands,its fine grainsslippingthrough myhands As footprintsembeddedthis nomad Place,thousands othershad come before,malnourished the vultureshad pickedthe bones of theirdiscontent in thisDesertofContinue reading “Twenty-Seven Months”

The Homeless Guy

THE HOMELESS GUY The shutters pulled downhe made his bedcardboard first thenthe sleeping bagSaturday afternoonshe’s ignored bythe group of kidsoutside McDonald’sby the couplewith groceriesall totally obliviousto the guyIn the shop entrancehood up and head bowedpaper cup in hand. Soon it starts to rainbut he never movesthe occasionalclink of coinsInto the cupIs greeted with anacknowledged nodothersContinue reading “The Homeless Guy”