The Abstract Art Gallery
A writing gallery created by writers from around the world. From poetry to song lyrics, from essays to entire novels and short stories.
…pottered half-heartedly, rearranging what didn’t need arranging. His daughter stood by the window, cup in hand, gaze fixed stern out into the sanctuary of the middle distance. They couldn’t find a safe way to put words on it, silence took up a heavy dominion. The house couldn’t hold the growing…
By Niall Crowley
Read More…sky arranges itself.
Clouds gather like starlings
And the heart clenches.
The cat seeks out a warm…
By Kevin McDermott
Read More…are children of screens now
Who came out of the womb with face ID registered on their phone,
Who post selfies with their little baby friends…
By Sinéad Mears
Read More…pints of stout settled into uniform darkness with cream caps firming up. Each was watched with an anticipation, attentive for the right moment. Two men sat in predetermined places. High wooden stools side by side, tight up to the bar for support. One was red-faced from the elements, mostly bald with untended stray hairs. The other’s face was etched in earthy ridges, a worn grey mop above reaching down to…
By Niall Crowley
Read MoreA piece on Generation Snowflake
————
…term adopted for the new generation of young people, specifically those who are prone to take offence in discussion. It is argued that such young people lack the emotional resilience of previous generations in their tendency to get upset at having people disagree with…
By C.M.C Martin
Read More…the head-end of the coffin, a candle which was supposed to burn for the next two or three nights flickered nervously in the same rhythm as the eyelid of an elderly woman who sat there in prayer. And a glass of water with a marking of the water level to check the next morning if the dead had drunk from it or not, stood on a…
By Edward Schmidt-Zorner
Read More…the moss,
Where little roots cling to limbs,
It’s dark and warm,
Absorbently dank
And beautiful.
Life out of millennia-cycles of death, decay, life, death, decay.
~ saibhreas, ailleacht, síoraíocht ~
That is what Ireland smells like;
Earthy, rich, innocent and…
By Gréachán Gallda
