Today’s sentence: “Battle through the foggy shroud, oh you wise fish of Saints, flee the earthly spires of this city of the damned and the pious faithful.” Inspiration and Observation.Have you ever heard of the 'Goldie Fish'? Surely you must have. It leaps over Shandon Tower, and it is one of the most iconic Cork... Continue Reading →
Today’s sentence: “The jostle stone stood mute to passersby, sentinel to the forgotten gateway of the silent workshop, which echoed no more with the ancient blacksmith's song.” How did I arrive at the sentence above?While passing Collins Barracks, Cork this morning, I noticed a fine jostle stone standing guard where someone, or something, has breached... Continue Reading →
Thursday, 24th April 2025. Today’s sentence: “Shimmering like a starling’s wing, the puddles of the pockmarked garage forecourt were the only brightness in a forlorn day.” How did I arrive at the sentence above?Well, it started in a garage forecourt on the most miserable of wet days in Ireland. The iridescence of the slick of... Continue Reading →
A thought, driven by rain, in a car park.It's not often that a Nobel Laureate and a Norrie spark a idea to coalesce from the firmament and strike one square in the brain. It must have been driven by the rain, as I sat in the carpark. A Moveable Feast. "Sometimes when I was started... Continue Reading →
Peters Fish
Red, golden, green, the scales of Peters fish,stretched and nailed to the curve of the dome,held up by pious prayers, feverish pleas and hope of the wounded,the hospital arches of yellowed stone, barred with wrought iron,twisted and anchored deep into faith,by head and feet, anointed shells of men, bent battered forms.
The Tower of Il-Gardjola
We hear it all,the endless message,carved high into the battlements,conform and heed our call.
We see it all,the lidless eye is never sleeping,stays dry mid widows weeping,for the husbands who lay bleeding.
Cobh -The Gateway to Munster.
Cobh is the most beautiful seaside town in Ireland, looking out over the vast Cork harbour where the mighty River Lee runs down to meet the ocean. A place of rich history, which has stunning natural beauty and it is where the world’s largest liners come alongside the Deep Water Quay. The huge floating palaces carrying thousands of tourists each year are vast in scale and they tower over the brightly painted fishing boats which set out from the small little piers and coves with their pots & nets seeking to bring home the bounty of the waters outside the harbour.
Words.
The words were sent out of the window and into the world,Spiralling nouns danced on the breeze and prose rose on light airs,Gusting gales could not the verbs shake loose from bonds of rhyme,The poets thoughts set loose upon the wind and free.
Lá breithe shona duit, tSeirbhís Chabhlaigh. On the 1st of September, the Naval Service will slip into its seventy-fourth year and go about its duties with the same quiet professionalism that it has always had and hopefully always will. The crews of the modern navy who have acquitted themselves so well off the coast of Libya are following in the footsteps of those who laid the foundations of the Service in September 1946.The Naval Service is the principal sea going agency of the State and performs a whole host of duties for the government and other stakeholders. Fisheries protection in Irelands Exclusive Economic Zone, narcotics & arms interdiction, search & rescue; these are only some of the tasks which they can be called upon to perform at any time during Maritime Defence and Security Patrols.In projecting the law of the State beyond the horizon, they defend Irelands interests with their presence and as self-contained mobile units they are capable of undertaking tasks which no other state agency can perform.
Paper Never Refused Ink! 
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