The Mocking

Blind to reality,
That’s when life plays tricks,
You think things have changed,
Only to realise they’re actually the same;
It’s too late now,
A forward movement has blocked
A path that seemed barred,
But was only hidden;
Now the feelings of all
Are thrown carelessly into the air,
While I sit and watch them fall,
Trying to choose whose to catch
And whose to let smash;
Time was long spent
Searching for the thing
To help me forget,
But when I found it,
I just wanted to remember again;
Now I stand at a crossroads,
The choice seems to mock me,
Go down a road that’s a certain dead end,
Or go down a familiar path
That may not be open to me,
What do I do?

I sleep and dream of a place
Where things might actually go back to how they were,
I walk into this imagined place,
And there she stands, centre of it all,
Enticing me with her beckoning finger
And her shining eyes;
I get to the centre, to where everyone’s gaze
Is attentively and unwaveringly fixed;
We smile at each other and our eyes close,
The kiss I’ve been longing for is so close now
I can almost taste it;
Yet, just as I wait for our lips to press passionately,
I feel her vanish from my grasp,
I re-open my eyes and am horrified at her disappearance;
I look around, gripped by panic,
This is not how dreams are meant to be,
The room filled to capacity, with faces towering over me, either side,
Is a wall of noise, of jeers and manic laughter;
One by one, recognisable faces appear in the wall,
The faces of those I thought were close to my heart,
And then, I see her face, laughing at me,
Joining in the mocking of my weakness,
Whilst shouting down at me,
‘You’ll never touch these lips again.’

Throwing Stones

Throwing stones to pass the time,
Turning each stone over as every thought races by,
The smoothness of the stone brings an envious feeling,
The raggedness of everything needs soothing…

Watching the stones skim across the water,
Only breaking the surface when momentum is lost,
The pace of the stone brings a jealous stare,
The safety of everything needs risking…

Witnessing the sinking stone lose its fight to float,
Falling to the murky depths of the polluted river,
The sinking of the stone brings a nervous anticipation,
The obscurity of everything needs unveiling…

Sitting by the river until the sun gives up the day,
Throwing stone after stone in search of a new meaning,
The repetition of everything brings a crashing splash,
The sameness of events needs something different…

Washing Away

I find myself on a beach, twilight fading,
Lying back, facing the sea,
The water washes against my feet as I await the dawn…

I gaze gently at the horizon, a smile across my lips,
Safe in the knowledge of one thing,
My emancipation is absolute and immediate…

I think back to the months passed, a tear forming,
Knowing that they represent wasted time,
It rolls slowly down my face, washing away with the tide…

I sit up suddenly, as the sky begins to lighten,
Wondering when again I would share this with someone,
I stop wondering, as ‘when’ is ‘when’ and no longer matters…

I notice now something new, an inner calm,
Windless, just like the morning I behold,
Not a grain of sand touches the clarity above…

I marvel to myself, while taking some sand,
As I know I have changed for the better of us all,
I loosely let the sand slip, just like an hour glass…

I watch the sunrise, until the day is in motion,
The tide has fallen back and I know it is time,
A new start awaits in pastures old…

Finally.

(Washing Away was published in DCU Book Society's 2009 Creative Writing Anthology along with Loveable Rogue - to be published two years running was good enough, but to get two into one anthology took me by surprise, to be honest).

Loveable Rogue

He spends his nights marauding and masquerading,
Absolute ossification allows an escape into a world where he cannot be hurt,
In the process, an image of himself as a joker is projected,
His drunken alter ego dives into oblivion and creates a persona of arrogance,
Leading many to believe he is heartless;
Years are spent living this life, drunken blur after drunken blur,
Deceiving himself into thinking it was all he wanted,
While inside, a battle between what is and what he wants to be
Rages and destroys the notions he once lived so comfortably and happily by;
A craving for a past framed only in memory
Devours his mind night and day,
A desire for things out of reach at present but possible in the future
Consumes his thoughts morning and evening,
And a wish to be something more than he is in the eyes of those nearest to him
Burns inside every second of every minute of every lonesome hour,
Accompanied by reminders of events gone by that have shaped the person he is now;
All he wants is a change, a chance to start anew,
To lose the persona he hides behind and to lose those he no longer holds so dear,
And to regain former glories that now gather dust
In the dark recesses of a mind drowning in a lack of comprehension…

(this is one of two poems published in DCU Book Society's 2009 anthology - to be published two years running is something I'm proud of, though if a person called Anto Gallagher ever claims to be the loveable rogue and, by association, my muse just ignore him).

Sit

The cycle continues relentlessly,
Everything knows its being is futile,
Yet it lives and breaths still,
While I sit in denial;
Some days are better than others,
But the height at which I fly,
And the speed at which I fall,
Is enough to make them all cry;
Two days at a time,
My energy knows no bounds,
The two days after
My body and soul make no sounds;
Inconsolable is too harsh,
Approachable is not harsh enough,
Indescribable is the one,
No description, no contact with love;
While they all live on,
Ignoring problems long gone,
I sit alone, turning things over,
Thinking about where it all went wrong…

It’s her that has me this way,
I sit solemnly, looking back
At memories framed forever,
Yet also irretrievably packed;
We wrote for each other once,
I constantly re-read her piece,
Wondering if it was ever true
And how it was we came to cease;
I miss her more day-by-day,
Living in the past as time passes,
My dreams offer no refuge,
They are also in a state of chassis;
Now I sit in solitude and watch
As her life unfolds without me,
I imagine myself in her new memories,
An inclusion which would set me free;
If only she could see me now,
Gazing from afar, yet doing nothing,
She would think me a creep, a stalker
And a coward, for not doing something…

And now I sit by myself,
Engaging in torture night and day
Over things I can’t change,
And things one should never say;
Letting go is the hardest part
Made even harder by not wanting to,
Even I know four months is long enough,
But I still don’t know what to do;
All I can do is one useless thing,
Sit in isolation and brood always,
All my time is either spent this way,
Or is spent pretending, these days;
And all the while I convince myself
That even if she knew the situation,
Care would evade her like the unworthy,
As her future is planned without my desperation;
So I sit digesting the truth late into the morning,
Wishing for time to do what it doesn’t,
To stop, reverse and bring me back
To that moment when I should’ve said “we shouldn’t”;
I sit silently waiting for the instance of clarity
That will snap me out of this obsolete obsession,
I sit with my eyes closed until that relieving moment
When I repossess, or force a confession…

Rule the World

Night swallows the misapprehensions of the day,
Monotony looms on either side,
With me the only shining light…

The drawn curtains stare down at the abyss,
Circling around the flickering glow,
I brighten the depths of the once bottomless pit…

Clarity of shadows reigns above,
The silence of everything else shrinks into the sky,
As the sound of my voice breaking rises…

Then the stars burst into life,
Beside a full moon laughing at the lives of mortals,
While also being a friend for the lonely to talk to…

Solidarity brings a strange significance,
Walking turns to running and then becomes skipping,
As things newly formed soak up the wet pavement…

Street lamps glow to show the way,
Destiny’s course is held as the winds stop,
Time ticks in this new present and I wonder…

Is this what it feels like to rule the world?


(I was listening to Viva la Vida by Coldplay a lot around this time)