21 September

Missent words
reflected in a new
message grow

To taste the touch
to leave me in
the dark – is
this a sign unrecognised?

Too much talk
on an empty mind.
That’s what
this is –

or could it be?

A blind side

Whining myself
on talk below the
mind, yet the mindless
thoughts house
themselves securely and sure.

Leave me,
remove them;
this I know,
is only a worthless

Flint afore my
eyes, sparks from
a stone, the knowledge
of decisions
from nights ago
freshen the skin in an
unnamed shame.

But were the decisions
regret or correct –
that is what I still
need to know.

The Spirit of 45

Support from the
Aye still resides
days on.

The streets, though,
wear rained-out
rain-down ideals
from either side.

This is a time to
remember, or at
worst, to have to

Is this the
taste of optimism
turnt wrong?

Or is this the start
of a movement just

Talk of revolution
with restless sleep
and clouded dreams –
but what will result, if a scene
is something yet uknown
whether to be.

Old firms fight
from abroad while here
in the Mound they act as if
life can somehow go on.

Promised powers go on to
be promised without a note of change
to the current pace of those
South of Arthur’s Hill.

Will there be yet again
a fight of words, or does it now
call of action, borrowed from
the Firm?

Lost and Came

Tell me, oh love,
where it is you lost
and came, trying to
be found by someone
other than yourself.

Name of convenience
I lied when I said
you were a love only
to I.

To change it around

to declare it a general –
Tell me, oh,
Love, where you wish
it to be found.

Loft-held language
and mourns of
ideas further from
head than from heart.
Tell me, where is it
you wish to be found.

13 Septemeber

Lee Lei lo!

O’ for the chance of
sur-prise, holding
stalling the sight of
sense, blinding

Stand a-front, young
inexperience soldier!
Beyond this station is room not for you, but
for your shadow presence
is required.

Lee lei lo!

Gone away to a place
with an invisible name, but
one which flowered the mind.

Upon my way, a soldier
soldiered on, still. While he
could not, his shadow grew
tall and large and small and square.

Lei lo,
the stench remains,
reminds the mind of humanity
was once a mere step away
from these steps.


Here reminds
a forgotten mound, still.
Whose shadow turns up and down,
curves and curving until
the tail meets the end.

Bell’s Burning

upon this waste,
that I shall give

I saw your back again last night,
but back to me, is only a dream I had.
belfast burns on the city’s top
parading, at last, an end.

So if, you, too, a friend
receive, a mirrored challenge
to Begin Again,
decide at best,
the next option to proceed.