In Tarmac Traversed

Willowing, weaving copses coronate the night’s sky begging 
for a boundless, borderless range and I wishing,
hath the heaven’s forgiveness and bountiful belonging
convinced such merciful acts of harmonious physis in motion.

Deminishing, derelict destitutes, streets of asphaltic 
canvases, draw in forests of human insertion,
Shot forth from grounds of gravel and grime, these residents
of tarmacked fury, graffitied and garnish symbolic gestures in distress.

In infinite objectiveness, I would, clog the cogs 
of clocks in corners, punctuating horizons of scattering
chaotic cosmos and none the more would intensive shimmering
starlets cast incident light upon your planes of perversial beauty.

This can be read along with my other poems on


About jessienileacai

Irish speaker and artist. I love music, art, languages,literature, history, travel, photography, and comedy. I love Ireland, my heritage, the old ways and the beauty and people of this small island and its surrounding tiny islands
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