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Man Aug 23
Longing for the land of my lineage
I am dying here, in Beggar Country
Here, where fools act the wise
Pseudo Intellectualism steadily on the rise
Where the disease celebritism has took hold
Forced out the tried and true for the shiny yet old
Where the idiom
The more things that change, the more remains the same
Is unquestionably fact
I long for Ireland
I long to go back

Give me land that's green
And rolling countryside
Give me tide to rival hell's fury
And people that mean well, amid gales so dreary
I miss fog
Like that kicked up by the mire

Give me land that's hungry
Give me people that's tired
Leaf litter sheep ****
verdant verges
flowers that smell foreign but aren’t
wet earth telling truth
moves to concrete and tarmac
who lie often
and heat is turned to memory
steps from animal tracks to animals tracked
have tumble drier breeze
mocking those prior flowers
**** smoked appreciatively
to thank the peace
as if laws don’t exist
and the lick of car exhaust
to recall poison
and then home
Green cathedral bells
are felt more than heard
though some tolls chime audible
to stomach depths
heart breadths
last breaths
blue house
brown house
tan house

brown house
blue house

brown house
brown house
brown house

backyard inside the fence
rocks inside of rivets

dead grass and
rocks inside rivets
rocks inside rivets

bridge over tracks
bridge over trails
bridge over the river
bridge over rails

parking lot
parking lot
parking lot
parking lot

high school called
a dead man’s name

circle
avenue
court
lane
In the countryside
There comes a darkness. A space-
Craft blocks out the sun.
Blue light from below. Blue light.
The trees electric
Wine dark disc over white sheep
What omen is this
That I, first of mankind sees?
What heart of time past
Has coalesced in this space?
I stare at the ship
Turn violet. My tired eyes
Seeing new life above all
seawreck Nov 2020
Sometimes I think how different my life would have been
if I was born in countryside among the mountains and lakes where I so desire to be
ever wonder how different your life would have been if you were born at your dream place
Sean Achilleos Oct 2020
When half a century of my life has gone
I'd like to live in the countryside
Or maybe a cabin next to the sea
I would like a dog and cat of no special breed
Windy days to dangle the wind chimes
A Capil heater in a modestly furnished lounge
Curtains shut for instant midnight and candlelight for thought
No loud noise, and no glare from an insensitive TV screen
Bombarding the beautiful silence with negativity
A little art studio on the side where I can explore
Bottles with stained water and paintbrushes
No exhibition for condescending tongues and haughty eyes
Maybe all the above is just a dream
It may never become a reality
But it is still a dream
And maybe ... Just Maybe ... I can dream it into reality
sean achilleos
October 13th, 2020
Rhiannon Clare Aug 2020
I take Jack to pick blackberries.

I’d spotted them earlier
down the lane and through a stile, brambles hanging heavy overhead

We each carry what we could find in the kitchen
Me a jug, he a plastic box.

The clutches of fruit perch on the hedge
Like children sat on a gate
Rosehips and hawthorn berries peep through leaves, biding their time.  

I say, look at the colours
Green then red and then
Finally,
shiny, glowing,
deepest purple

And how the fattest fall just so into your hand
As if they had been waiting

Soft bubbles bursting with juice
Our fingers turn pink

I like the tartest ones, sharp as a high summer sky.

And Jack only looks and me and smiles, nodding,
his hand finding
The blackberries just beyond my reach .
KNS Aug 2020
Dusk settles over the plains
A horse neighs as the village awakens
It smells like new beginnings and dew
A familiar scent
On a summer's eve

The butterfly rests its wings on a bench
Soaking in the rays of the sun
Before the shadow of the night approaches
It meets its friend the ladybug
They converse
And share
And motion

To the sky they would like to fly
And to the sky they eventually go
But first, a suggested pause
At the wonder of life's flow
Wrote this while in the Hungarian countryside. Enjoy! :)
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