If I can’t be a poet I’ll be a poem instead Posted on May 1, 2022 by celfypridd foto©robcullen01032021 … After a wait, the locked ward door opens, I sit in the empty waiting room, an orange with no reason, sits in the middle of a table, black, blue, orange, yellow plastic chairs, stare at one another in the electric glare, the stopped wall clock doesn’t move. …. robcullen©01032021
Running out of tears Posted on May 1, 2022 by celfypridd foto©robcullen01052022 … Running out of tears running out of fears our hearts and souls are here .. On the tree lined streets of Bucha fallen bodies lie where they died knocked over, mangled, distorted, shredded, alongside carcasses of rockets spent empty useless stupid lies that call this war “special military operation” … The black crows gather and cower but the birds still sing of freedom in Bucha, Kharkiv and Marsupiol … the birds still sing of freedom are you listening from your unmarked grave Federico? The “black crows” gather and cower. …. ©robcullen01052022