Poetry
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Distant motes of light concealed by the distant past. Distant worlds as were. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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Through the vast black void these eyes open wide to the corona of Sol. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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Dead beams breaking dawn; shadow fought the light and lost, cycle starts anew. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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There are no leaders whom time has remembered, and lived to tell the tale. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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Moving pictures blend on static-filled wavelength bands seen through double lens. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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The one who constructs a graveyard of broken hearts loves cheap company. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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Billions bringing thought; a culture finely tempered by our history. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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A distant light bulb indicative of night-owls burning the late shift. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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To taste the sweet brew, that has maddened gods and men, one must give life’s blood. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
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A great fire blazing, using air to create ash, leaves nothing in wake. Giuseppe Gillespie – October 2021
Giuseppe Gillespie Writing 