Let Those Caged Words Sing
Writing to be read is like singing to an audience … writing out loud, if you will.
Category: Personal
Shock as Taoiseach tells the truth — kind of
The truth is … we can’t handle the truth
Diary of an unknown football legend
The nights are drawing in – and so are my days as a five-a-side player
No Cure for that goodbye never said
Regrets over the friend I didn’t meet — and will never see again
Lightness Of Being On A Deserted Winter Beach
Some days you have to seek out these sacred places, and sometimes you were already there and just hadn’t noticed
Tripping along the magical Blue Nile
Over the hillside beyond the sodden wasteland I am wandering in the whimsied mists of other days … ha, you see, that’s what it’s like, giving yourself up to the magic of The Blue Nile. A diffident magic created by three Glaswegians, of uncommon synths and sensibilities, who transformed that hardest of hard cities into Tinsel Town in the rain.
Must litter and dog poo always be with us?
Some things in life we have little control over, but to throw a beer can on the path, metres from a bin, that’s a choice
Walking Dublin city blues
Yes, what bliss it is to be alive in this great old city. More shabby than chic, more storied than serenaded and forever being dug up, dissed and disassembled, but always discernibly Dublin. Its essence running deeper than buildings, history or passing people. My Dublin. For now
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