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).

Death on Everest

Don't leave me!
That shrill cry pierces the icy air,
You turn, frost bitten and blue with cold,
To look back at the person who made the plea,
She is lying there, pure white,
Pale as death,
Not moving, breathing ever so slightly,
On the face of Everest.
You had tried to help her,
You did everything you could,
But her muscles have all collapsed,
She is like a rag doll, so frail, unmoveable,
Her lungs are struggling to draw breath,
Each intake is sharp, like a jagged knife in her chest.
The elements will have their way,
They are slowly drawing every inch of life,
From her once energetic body,
And you know that if you stay there,
They will do the same to you too,
Leaving you to make the heartbreaking choice,
Of should you stay or should you go?

(Death on Everest achieved for me something I never thought possible - publication in an actual book, DCU Book Soc's 2008 Creative Writing Anthology to be precise, and it is something I remain proud of to this day and for many more days to come).