http://slow.writerscafe.org/jinjahman The original writings of author jinjahman en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775995401 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 poem about time http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/1945241/ Seamus Heaney RIP http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/1231542/ I said to him it didn't matter;it mattered a lot.He didn't hear, hadn't been listening.It didn't make much sense.Anyway,I spoke aloud again,when he was gone, and caught a bird in the skywatching me as I did so;the bird flew on.This made more sense than anything before. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/1054227/ wind rising http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/967265/ Railing falling;saturn spinning;invective churning spider like creatures. couch potato salad fingers melting below the mine and insipid chime of the sock that flits afoot and spits a cigarette buttwhen perishables freshen like stiff breeze in winter soup and seismic epicurean melodies play down my t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/823389/ where hasthe sunbeen hiding?cheeky divil!like moonswanning around.may dazenovember coilinground ringsmy heavenso hot;hell cold.Broken Swords,Shredded Ribbons,Years Old.counting down,counting down,counted d              o            &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/816577/ my pulse ran to the fontexploding before the prying eyecarefully tipping a scaleof non-existent pain and where my illustrations of dire need were sapped cleanI did forego change in personalworth and sawed my spleen smooth off theslab I then crawl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/806984/ a deep influence http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/802568/ ah the blasted luckah the blasted luckwhat have I done to deservesuch blasted luck?every switchevery wallevery inched turnevery squallsuch blasted luckout of the waterinto the fireout of the woodsinto the miresuch blasted bleedin' luckwhat a swizzwhy the cutbroken dreamsliving in a hutah the blasted.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/797691/ When I cant sleep,I want to run.My legs dangle froman itchy cliff.Brain entanglesconsciousness Splitting fences I'm counting onsleepNo time to countsheep ¦zNo time to pouncesheep ¦zzNo time to coinsleep, sleep ¦zzz&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/794771/ power of nature unseen http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/793981/ what is and what was http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/791884/ at 7 o'clock the pressure will mountand I'll take the liquid screwdrivermy favouriteand unwind in a pool of swashand tosh and beguilement and effervescent regretmash on the plate makes me think of the clouds in the skyand the clouds in my dreamsand the shrouds on my dreamsand the dreams on my p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/789634/ navigating http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/788518/ You decide Y/N http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/786178/ gazing at something bright in the August sky after 1 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/777397/ traipsing through the dirtlooking at the starsI fell downI felt tiredThe ounce of energy had gonethe sugar not sweetmy doors were closedmy eyes widethe silt was soot and the silt was hotmy feetmy cheekmy feeble featthe cornerstoneof this poemlies in the phrase"je nes se pas". http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/775675/ inward observation at a point in time http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/775482/ not sure if this should be classified as scary or just plain daft. Please tell me! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/774979/ water flows throughs my escapedazzling firestonesclicking hunted heelsbreaking the easelthat holds all of my dreamsthe master is aboutthe ultimate is on holdwhen can we expectto have our slaves returnedto counter by disguise perhapsthe onslaught of eerie buzz?cramped up to the pipemy arm just losta .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/771536/  A wheel turnsin mydirection;tis faultlessmy standingof noblenotion but brokenbonesmy spirit lit;guileless my s t r e t c h i n gto thecorporeal limit when turned onspitor standingoff,beaten to pulpto minnowedguffaw I will hold onI will notbequeathto strang.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/770433/ I happened on Philip Glass while mulling over this poem and the 2 fit! http://www.philipglass.com http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/769803/ experimenting with quick thoughts down on paper and published before stopping to think too much about it http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/768392/ inside the shell all is not wellthe ceiling is a sealing and thegrooves are not groovythe wash it cameand shunted this lousy frameoutward to the inwardif I had a portalif I felt mortalif I felt shunnedI would have my steps takenaway from any such shorefor sailing shipshave no radarmer.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/757902/ As was favourable sonelected to the night's slipping and sliding I gathered stalks of innocence unnoticed and passed yonto peel the crumbs of blessed tunes and huesand feature my smile anon,cracking at the hips of the waitress from eternityplying trade in sugar hea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/734867/ There you have itthere it isThe jolly got your lollyShall we leave it like thator go back and retrace?Should it be we or I,cos it'll take some lickingTo the pointwhere 2 can situnder a microscopic eyeand look like one..Where compounds become the sum of their elementfloating free..Breathing.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/723679/ The well bean split in twoand became a half-moon kidney shaped existential tabletThe mockers floated past with a booand became friends with the tabletswho stood up. Who were countedamong the best survivorsand the berated advisorsnot one of you could decide,And if the well bean was bet.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/718094/ IF IT FILLS ME WITH AGUT-WRENCHING FEELING THAT IT'SALL BEEN A CHARADE  THEN SO BE IT. I'VE THROWN MY ARMSAROUND HOT AIR TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITYAND CAUSED A STIR WITHMY EVER  SPOON-SHAPED MOUTHDIG - DIGGING ~ DUG-in AND IF IT FI.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/713568/ I am the dustI will be searchedI am the sourceI will spill forthnow and againI am clouds of thunder,in one dropI am that dropin an ocean filled under.I am an ocean,sweat and tears all asunderhear my thunderous cryingwhen I wake from a dreamtorn from the skyripped from dawn's tight lid.~I'd rather be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/710941/ something we possess - a kind of attribute. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/710849/ can't (describe) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/698479/ clever clogsclipping hedgesslipping wedgesbeneath my feetI look westlocked at sun-down cue red nose clownbefore the nightthere was a dayclicking at healingcord left http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/695669/ ~You and I.* * Who I See:the doe-eyed and the much missedthe trailer and the plastic couchthe fork the road enliststhe fit freak and the potato slouch~The I with the You, seen anew.* * Who You Hear:The majority and the pushThe cast and The OneAdrenaline and the rushSlurpy soup and a b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/694468/ This poem is inspired by 'To Ireland in the Coming Times' by WB Yeats. I think it has deep resonance with the Ireland of recent times. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/693375/ It's my wordbut then againthe sense of a response is lost without youbecauseI'm lost in a word pool.then againmy feet wobbled here in the quest for a library ofeasily quotable biblical bubblesbecauseI'm frost with 'sugar' in a frozen landand chilly as a literary icicle .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/691970/ The grey stood still;still as a lamp post.The greyness was of a daythat smelt like furze encrusted mothballs.My chips were cashedbut I was still at the table.Nowhere to go from nearly down and fading out,except maybe back to the knackers yard of a dream that I had been inhab.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/688083/ It was the twilight hour and I was returning home to my hostel after some hours busking and subsequently, quenching a honeycombed thirst.I walked past the window and heard the practising musicians.I looked down and saw cello, violin and viola in an outward facing triangle;my perc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/687606/ imaginative investigative journalism http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/687589/ The simple things whisper,The awkward and difficultThey scream a tense pulse  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/686199/ reflection and projection etc. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/683398/ A corpulent wind of change blewacross my doorstepand the fantastic Nigerian groomopened my heart's eye to the spaces around my ego, my tower, my force of ire.I blinked and heard again the muddy space beneath my feeturge splodgy recrimination formy dank hollow .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/679828/ I live in An Ros or 'Rush', North Co. Dublin. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/679800/ I live near Na Sceiri or 'Skerries' in North Co. Dublin, Ireland http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/679798/ The church pew perspiring with palmsnot far from bursting hearts spreading their red mercury cream outward.The dark lacey curtain split a sliver so deep in hope,it was just enough to avoid my voice's mouthcracking and hobbling through misdemeanours adjudged minorOh, all those sins ack.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/674702/ on being part of the big picture. pixel, letter, word, note, whatever. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/668705/ we're lucky we're notwe're lucky we arewe're lucky we're luckywe are lucky, so we are,definitely lucky;to be in the airto be in the fluxto be here and therethank you very much,very many thanks, I'm touched;by your blessingby your beautyfor now and everfor being so cleverfor how now brutish weatherso.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/668202/ I worried that the pot handlewould scald his little hand.This contemplation affectingthe seasoning,somewhatWhen the digits have stacked upsignificantly we'll resume this scenewith you nonchalently flipping the scented skilletin the airswiggin a long neck and smokin a kind of cigarette- I w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/665371/ The swan flapped on the water.everyone's heart rose.It was unofficially a sign of spring.the details were invisible in the airor against the skin,yet they were present in the smell andlonging odour of the wiley winds of today. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/663673/ the idea that things look like they've stalled or got old etc. but that newness on the other side is all too good to discount, despite niggling doubts to the contrary. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/661616/ http://dublin.ratemyarea.com/places/ismael-kebap-17119 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jinjahman/659758/