Róisín Ní Neachtain
@roisinnineachtain.com
Artist, poet, STUDENT (for at least another FIVE YEARS) 🇮🇪🏴🇪🇺💖🎨
https://www.roisinnineachtain.com/books
I,bird - Broken Sleep Books 31/12/25
Poetry/Nature/Literature studies & Art
https://www.roisinnineachtain.com/books
I,bird - Broken Sleep Books 31/12/25
Poetry/Nature/Literature studies & Art
Parker- Longley-Heaney -Mahon-Newmann
GUINNESS
GUINNESS
December 10, 2025 at 1:17 PM
Parker- Longley-Heaney -Mahon-Newmann
GUINNESS
GUINNESS
Writing, writing …
December 10, 2025 at 1:13 PM
Writing, writing …
Heaney’s regional imagination
December 10, 2025 at 11:58 AM
Heaney’s regional imagination
Meanwhile, in the window, a swallow Performs its rite of the second.
That boy, does he already suspect
That beauty is always elsewhere and always delusive?
Now he sees his homeland.
That boy, does he already suspect
That beauty is always elsewhere and always delusive?
Now he sees his homeland.
December 10, 2025 at 11:54 AM
Meanwhile, in the window, a swallow Performs its rite of the second.
That boy, does he already suspect
That beauty is always elsewhere and always delusive?
Now he sees his homeland.
That boy, does he already suspect
That beauty is always elsewhere and always delusive?
Now he sees his homeland.
I put the tree up a month too early but I still haven’t finished it 🤣
December 10, 2025 at 9:40 AM
I put the tree up a month too early but I still haven’t finished it 🤣
Accept my timid happiness no Joy can be in vain but adds to some bright sweet whose dwelling
December 9, 2025 at 10:27 PM
Accept my timid happiness no Joy can be in vain but adds to some bright sweet whose dwelling
The first visit, years gone, hit with a wallop of words.
I arrived in some kind of heart's home.
Now, despite synchrony, stars won't align.
I arrived in some kind of heart's home.
Now, despite synchrony, stars won't align.
December 9, 2025 at 10:26 AM
The first visit, years gone, hit with a wallop of words.
I arrived in some kind of heart's home.
Now, despite synchrony, stars won't align.
I arrived in some kind of heart's home.
Now, despite synchrony, stars won't align.
Reading this again ⚡️⚡️⚡️
December 9, 2025 at 10:16 AM
Reading this again ⚡️⚡️⚡️
Ashes of roses socks, burgundy shoes. My fashion game is strong.
December 9, 2025 at 9:00 AM
Ashes of roses socks, burgundy shoes. My fashion game is strong.
Finished reading this. I didn’t like it. I thought it was brilliantly written and clever but it didn’t move the deepest recesses of my soul which is what I was hoping for. What I expect the best of books to do.
December 8, 2025 at 10:35 PM
Finished reading this. I didn’t like it. I thought it was brilliantly written and clever but it didn’t move the deepest recesses of my soul which is what I was hoping for. What I expect the best of books to do.
David Nash being brilliant again in this Abridged pamphlet
December 8, 2025 at 9:14 PM
David Nash being brilliant again in this Abridged pamphlet
For Sinéad O'Connor ❤️
December 8, 2025 at 7:29 PM
For Sinéad O'Connor ❤️
❤️ (nostalgia but I hated growing up here, I wanted to be in Ireland always, yearned for my summer holidays there, I felt alive as soon as I stepped off the plane in Dublin though I had never lived in Ireland and wasn’t born there. I wanted to get on my knees and kiss the earth)
December 8, 2025 at 7:26 PM
❤️ (nostalgia but I hated growing up here, I wanted to be in Ireland always, yearned for my summer holidays there, I felt alive as soon as I stepped off the plane in Dublin though I had never lived in Ireland and wasn’t born there. I wanted to get on my knees and kiss the earth)
This is brilliant if you’re recovering from *nail trauma* (nail issues due to wider health thing, for example)
December 8, 2025 at 6:49 PM
This is brilliant if you’re recovering from *nail trauma* (nail issues due to wider health thing, for example)
How much I love my battered well-used heirlooms
December 7, 2025 at 11:24 PM
How much I love my battered well-used heirlooms
Hot chocolate season 🎄
December 7, 2025 at 8:47 PM
Hot chocolate season 🎄
Perhaps the light will be a new oppression.
December 7, 2025 at 6:06 PM
Perhaps the light will be a new oppression.
They ask but our Delight -
The Darlings of the Soil
And grant us all their Countenance
For a penurious smile -
The Darlings of the Soil
And grant us all their Countenance
For a penurious smile -
December 7, 2025 at 5:04 PM
They ask but our Delight -
The Darlings of the Soil
And grant us all their Countenance
For a penurious smile -
The Darlings of the Soil
And grant us all their Countenance
For a penurious smile -
The most precious books I own -
December 7, 2025 at 5:00 PM
The most precious books I own -
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading - till it seemed That Sense was breaking through -
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading - till it seemed That Sense was breaking through -
December 7, 2025 at 5:00 PM
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading - till it seemed That Sense was breaking through -
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading - till it seemed That Sense was breaking through -
And about a dozen books on Heaney for college…. And also, always, poetry, at the moment Vona Groarke, Kevin Graham …. And the below.
December 7, 2025 at 4:46 PM
And about a dozen books on Heaney for college…. And also, always, poetry, at the moment Vona Groarke, Kevin Graham …. And the below.
it's like being followed around by a drowning hull dimly visible in deep water, something that slides across the daylight, grey-blue, purposeful, pointed and slow…
December 7, 2025 at 3:50 PM
it's like being followed around by a drowning hull dimly visible in deep water, something that slides across the daylight, grey-blue, purposeful, pointed and slow…
No more distractions hover, no pages to tempt me away from the notebooks. Hungry for print, I recall with envy of the pleasing despair in a great library where at once you know you'll never reach the end of its high alcoves, walled with bound proceedings…
December 7, 2025 at 3:48 PM
No more distractions hover, no pages to tempt me away from the notebooks. Hungry for print, I recall with envy of the pleasing despair in a great library where at once you know you'll never reach the end of its high alcoves, walled with bound proceedings…