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


Afflatus The cryptic mindIn the mazeIn the labyrinthOf lavender scented pines. A kaleidoscope of coloursBut in shades of grey. The blind man seesWhat the deaf man hears. By the rounded squareIn a hexagon shaped pearUnder the winter treesFilled with blooming life. The passion fruitWith a hint of limeDangled on cherry lips.I eyed the skies above.Continue reading “Afflatus”