irish

•June 21, 2009 • 1 Comment

she sparkled like the sea shining in the sun

eyes the colour of sky pulled down with sooty fingers

hair of rain-dark bark of a forest of old oaks

perfect in that annoyingly innocent, artless way

          massey was jealous

          a green-eyed scamp

          with a monstrous temper

          and a chip of dynamite

          on her shoulder

he and she walked shoulders touching, fingers entwined

whispering scintillating extemporaneous sonnets into each other’s ears

wrinkled couples nodded knowingly and gazed fondly at each other

such a lovely pair, dark and blue and bright and free

          massey looked away

          green eyes lowered

          face blenched beneath freckles

          she waded in deep

          drifting out to sea

 

                                                                 some say she escaped

all your sounds of woe

•May 18, 2009 • 1 Comment

the dog barks at the crows in the field behind the house

was it all merely much ado about nothing

that summer spent weeping and sunburnt and wondering

naturally the bits of broken wit were exaggerated

i shall not requite thee nor allow myself requited to be

for i killed all of the words of my own eating

whether false dice were masked is no matter now

consign ye so to let me go blithe and bonny

and so shall i do for you to love as a brother

laugh when you are merry, but sigh not so, nor so

in re

•May 14, 2009 • Leave a Comment

to recant something i’ve written

some secret part of me

that however briefly was for a moment

true —-

in the so-called manner of the day

which pays homage to heart

over matters of the mind —-

no matter how false i see it

how base i know it now

i can’t retract a redaction

without telling the lie

that some things never were.

to be not what i thought to be

is now the answer

not the question

which laid my ghost to rest

in the wasteland.

on the other side

•May 14, 2009 • Leave a Comment

many’s the time when i was younger that i wished to write you a letter containing all my pent-up psyched-out love

for you

only i knew i’d never mail it because i wasn’t that kind of a daring bold girl with no finer scruples to be overcome

by you

especially because you weren’t that kind of boy then and i both trusted and was afraid of you without knowing why

only i did

i could have ruined a friendship because of my utter unwarranted unreturned unreasonable stupidness over you

maybe i did

now we’ve all moved on and up but you’re the one left behind to drown in the dust of your own gray powdery ashes

someday

you broke her heart and i pray he’ll break your soul so you can finally see what you’re doing and killing what i killed

yesterday

time wounds all heels and heals all wounds i’ve heard tell in songs and rhymes like the pretty thing you wrote once

for someone

yes i was jealous and angry and bitter and empty but now i’m a just little numb in the spot that used to harp on you 

her someone

and i’ve run out of words

imagine that

fake drops of blood

on a page

bleeding the lies out

what’s wrong with that?

there was some truth

just a hint

a mere speck

some things

weren’t meant to be

you and me

for instance

and the general state of dull pain brought on by the sins of fallen man living like there’s no hope for tomorrow

the sorrow

is unbearable sometimes

but i

can’t hold it

for you

nor can she

nor you, even

a rebel without

clear-eyed sight so sought after once

and to think you already

know the answer

you just won’t

put down your weapons

and surrender

then you were dead

•May 14, 2009 • Leave a Comment

spring brings green-hued hailstorms

and white legs shining like sun-bleached bones

no one’s at home for you today

even when your book of memory tell you otherwise

she never lies, lady luck

though you close your eyes in sleep under golden fields

and time makes her brave

and time is a slave

summer shows trees greening wickedly

and white eyes rolling in sun-scoured skulls

no one’s alive to you today

even when the faded words you keep write you so

she always knows, lady fate

though you drown your eyes in tears under golden rain

for time makes her brave

whilst time digs its grave

autumn usurps green young folly

and white souls shimmering find sun-blest peace

no one could hurt you this way

even when your scars throb in remembrance

she won’t sing, lady love

though you burn your eyes with golden twilight

but time makes her brave

and she’s not your slave

the day before holy week

•April 4, 2009 • Leave a Comment

it was evening in april

and the sun’s golden glow

illuminated suburban streets

fringed with childhood at play

something felt more alive then

as if we’d all been loosed

from the bounds of winter’s chill

and escaped to dance off our misery

new-mown grass perfumed the air

with the promise of warmth

the diligent scyther was grubby

but i could have kissed him

spring made me mab-mad

gypsy and pixie danced rings

on the green-again lawn

at my journey’s end

flowers encircling towering trees

as the warm gloaming deepened

i felt truly come home again

where i should belong

confession

•March 28, 2009 • 1 Comment

wait — stay!

please

    i know you hurt

  but

     just listen for a

moment

       i don’t have

          many words

fewer reasons

             no excuse

        for how i

           broke their hearts

how i shattered

             yours

      i was selfish

foolish, unthinking

        a king unto

            myself

proud, haughty, base

      i was wrong

   you shook the scales

off my eyes

          and let light

    into my dark

         mouldy heart

   so i could see

         clearly

               for the first

time

             what was done

                   is

but doesn’t have

      to be forever

asking forgiveness

                               feels weak

   but here i am

            past arrogance

or doubt

           and finally alive

will you forgive

                  me

      my sins

            every unconscious dagger

plunged into your heart

          each wound i planned

                     deliberately —

   please?

             wait, don’t go —

                     wait!

  i didn’t get to

              tell you

although you’d disbelieve

                            and hate me

              deeper still

                         if i said

the whole truth

                              that

i

                                     love …

prodigal’s song

•March 28, 2009 • Leave a Comment

   i didn’t care

   no i never cared

 how much they might hurt

when they didn’t know where

     i’d gotten to

they oughtn’t to matter

  to me by myself

  finally free

             and wild

      like a child spoiled

i was never foiled

     and i knew it

     

i thought it’d last

   a life with no past

 to rise up and haunt me

    or taunt me in dreams

   but it seems i was wrong

and strong are the ties that bind

     mind to mind

             and path to path

    the aftermath of pain

    fight to regain what was lost

            at any cost

eveline reminisces

•March 24, 2009 • Leave a Comment

i have pocketed you away with the night

stormy souls slipping silently out

to comingle with rain and morning mist

how i have missed you since you left

since i determined to kill the new growth

on the viney deadwood of my heart

to be apart was a withering wrenching

but to be tossed together a torment more terrible

shall you compel me to render up my pride

or has your heart died as well within you

as had i hoped by now mine would

is it too late for prodigals to forgive, forgetting

the gall we laved on each other’s open wounds

you are a ghost who haunts my daymares

giving me only the solace of lethe’s sleep

what is the cost of honest humility

when my hands lie empty and idle

i have worshipped, i have coveted, i have mourned

i have hated, i have died —- i have loved

and in so loving i longed to die to live again

if i let go this time i shall be lost in you

flying away into indigo clouds of night

book endings

•March 22, 2009 • Leave a Comment

on the bench they sat

uneasily silent

early spring sun

beating down on their backs

no longer strangers

yet neither friends

sublimely unsure of the other

“hello, my name is —”

and a handshake

would’ve sufficed

were it not for her

paranoid pride

shyness a selfish excuse

on stones they sat close

maintaining the silence

between them in shade

of late summer leaves

no longer rovers

yet neither content

to keep a term undefined

history and mystery

love-language and lore

eyes between brown

and mossy tree green

nevermind that he’s blind

and can’t feel anything

together they sat

forgetting the silence

mid-autumn fires

crackling cheerily on

no longer angered

yet neither in love

laughing into the wind