Article 9
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...
View ArticleArticle 8
A rose, at the end of summer, knows it must let go of the petals, to bloom again next spring. -L.J. Lenehan Filed under: Poetry Tagged: art, beauty, creative writing, future, happiness, hope, life,...
View ArticleArticle 7
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
View ArticleFor the First Time
On my path, it rains, my dry skin moisturized. For the first time, I stop, observing the bend up the way, inhaling the fragrant orchard bloom I try to understand, how I never noticed the bloom of...
View ArticleArticle 5
I thought it would be lovely to share my moon with you and then I realized you have to want to share it too… -L.J. Lenehan- Filed under: Poetry Tagged: art, beauty, creative writing, hope, life, love,...
View ArticleArticle 4
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...
View ArticleArticle 3
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...
View ArticleArticle 2
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:...
View ArticleArticle 1
Should a broken angel find you, offering what is left, curl in to the broken pieces of his wings. -L.J. Lenehan-Filed under: Poetry Tagged: art, creative writing, dreams, love, meaning of life, poem,...
View ArticleArticle 0
The kind of heat that turns you to dust leaving souls weighted in bones picked a part by crows that heat is still better than a reality wading through the living dead watching as the radiant fled...
View Article
More Pages to Explore .....