Category Archives: Summer 2014

A Song of Sorrow

A song of sorrow,
simple, that you’re not with me.
And yet, perhaps, the fault is mine because
your name always comes first in line.

This isn’t what I wanted, I didn’t know how,
how to allow myself to ask for what I dreamt
so close.

When I saved all my bad words to serve
as a first to yours,
they dissolved as sugar in water in a swift
kiss.

But was it you or I that stirred it first?

Advertisements

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.

5 August

I dreamt your name, last night asleep.
To hold it to such proximity, rid of
current stains –

I should have known, right then and there,
that it was only an illusion in such case.

But treasured still, and safe,
peaceful, and calm. No tears
travelled my face, no reason
to arm walls.

And if my name were to pass through your lips,
well, then, that’s no fault of mine.
Because I’ve dreamt your name, your face,
more times than I can blame or say.

And never once, since that dreadful day,
have you passed my lips, not once.
Afraid to break the lofted dream of what
you meant and still mean to me.

Near Empty Bar Stools

Passage of time
marked by drinks and the
clinking of glasses being cleaned.

My mind far from my eyes.
My eyes far from my mind.

I think I met you when you were young
but I’m not sure if that was me all so long ago,
or that you’d be the shade whom I stand across from now.
I never thought I’d still know you now, or how I still
smile murmuring your name.

Quell my brain who
barrages me with thoughts of truth!
I’m not as strong as it claims to be, so
can some soul tell me the sick, sadistic
pleasure it gives me with pictures and
scenes that taunt my eyes and which
hungers the heart – reminding of the standing
echoes.

Diluted poison, a heavy taste of
amber reassures the bones that it won’t
feel the dull pain much longer. Clogs my
pores, pouring another glass – don’t stop me
as I swallow a newer death sentence.

Anything, to hope to distract me and my mind
from my brain.

Pulling Words

Perhaps I’m only bored.
Perhaps I’m saddened by my loss of words.

And instead string together the remaining
frames of thought, as though that could
help stall the throne of time.

I think you mistook me for someone else.
When we met so long ago, you thought
me to be someone who shares me name yet
acts in such a way in which I could only hope to
be brave.

And in sleep the peace
that settles me is for never really long.
Awake to thoughts and songs which dissipate
before too long – enough to taste such words, but
never enough to swallow the verse.

Ephemeral sins
from last night line
the seaming of my sides, filling
the spine, tainting my eyes, disfigure -quick-
gone and there.

Vanished before time.