A Life In Vain

January 26, 2013 - One Response

The weight of the World borne on Atlas shoulders.

King Canute manoeuvering to hold back the tide.

While a sea of torment constantly eroded basalt-like legs.

Day in day out the relentless weathering of a finite body.

Until at last once mighty legs crumbled into the sea.

Vanquished defences dispersed on the tide.

The World shrugged as the routed Atlas disappeared.

Neither Earth nor sky had caved in, his all was for naught.

Holding onto not up, Atlas’s fight had been with perception.

His never-ending struggle ending with his dead end life.

lundy0605

h

Shaadi – 26/01/2013

The Truth Famine

January 21, 2013 - One Response

Great Hunger not Great Famine,
History distorted.
Enough food then, exported;
Enough money now, extorted.

D O’F – 21/01/2013

Moth

January 20, 2013 - Leave a Response

Sick, a confused heaviness over me,
A definite fondness but a feverish haze after that.
Like an excited moth when a light’s turned on
In a dull room.
Drawn to it fluttering and not altogether sure,
But lost and empty once switched off.
Why am I the moth? And you pretty fluorescent light
That teasingly turned off.
Now left heart heavy wondering, in a halfway house,
Whether or not the bulb’s blown.

broken lightbulb

Fraxinus – 20/01/2013

Composed, December 27th 2005

Tuaim Inbhir

January 14, 2013 - 8 Responses

No faux-Tudor blight might outdo

My ivied Tuaim Inbhir bedsit

Luminous stars lining

Its sun and its moon.

.

Gobbán Construction turned the sod

But you know how that went

And someone’s God

Thatched it in the boom.

.

Bullets cannot touch me there,

Rain falls past

My bright orchard

Where no fences loom.

.

treecanopy

.

Translated from anonymous 9th Century Monastic Verse

Suibne Geilt.

.

Mairiuclán hi Túaim barr edin Inbir

ni lán techdais bes ssestu

cona retglannaib aréir

cona gréin cona escu

.

Gobban durigni insin

conecestar duib astoir

mu chridecan dia du nim

is hé tugatoir rodtoig.

.

Tech inna fera flechod

maigen na áigder rindi

soilsidir bid hi lugburt

ose cen udnucht nimbi.

.

5intheface – 14/01/2013

The Moth

January 10, 2013 - Leave a Response

Welcome to my World my friend,

Do you see it the same as I?

Do you share my thoughts, my hopes, my dreams,

As around this tomb you fly?

.

I see that you are restless,

I know that feeling well,

You’re looking for escape,

Through the window of my cell.

.

Pray stay with me,

Stay a while,

Make a difference to my day,

I’ll write a verse about you, then guide you on your way.

xxx

moth-fly_19-96910

Trow – 10/01/2013

The Nights Pass Slow

January 2, 2013 - 2 Responses

Because I don’t have you in my arms
The nights pass slow.
But you are the soul of my nights
Its darkness is my foe.
And remembered images
Are dismembered, like shredded pages.

But my days are full of joy.
They give me the strength
That the darkness can’t defy.
And I have never held your hand – nor you mine.
Though I brushed your cheek – one time.
Yet your glance
Makes my heart dance,
My stomach churn, in giddy turn,
And this tightness in my throat,
Inspires this simple poet.
Yet these feelings frighten me,
I fear to lose your friendship.
I fear the loss of the light
That you have shed on my dark places.
For you have made me what I will become.
And because I don’t have you in my arms
The nights pass slow.

nights

Andrew49 – 02/01/2013

I Love The Internet

December 29, 2012 - 2 Responses

 

 

 

 

 

I love the internet.

Opium to DeQuincy

Sin to Milton

Congo to Conrad

Aran to Synge

.

I love the internet

.

Castles to Shakespeare

Deceit to LeCarre

Dublin to Joyce

Marketplace to Chaucer

.

Did we say

‘Daffodils to Wordsworth?’

We couldn’t forget that.

Or mounted jihad to Tennyson

Or the weird wild wonder

of the whole god damn show

to Dylan

.

I love the internet

.

Wild, lewd, bawdy, bullying, smelling of cats.

Cranks, crank, meth, conspiracy, snipers, knoll.

Fascists made cartoon on ripe digital soil.

Erudite waltzing with trite.

In eternal ballroom

Dedicated skiers on seas of trivial loon.

Self help soma screaming thinnin tv hair repair.

And always the smiles of the filippino brides

And promises of untold nigerian riches.

Flashing wheel spinning ace poker squared

You Have Been Chosen

But

Shhhhhhh

Somewhere down there in the fly fishing section

the first faint whispers

(If ears are right)

of hushed talk

of

bold revolution.

.

I love the internet

The sheer

dull

scintillating

infantile

anarchy

of

it

all.

.

Boisterous Brughel medieval market.

Futuristic Middle Ages

Directed

by

Friar Tuck.

And offset, whispers

of

Robin

lurking

in

wood.

I love the internet.

Cos it’s ours.

.

Kev Bar – 29/12/2012

The Prodigal Son

December 29, 2012 - Leave a Response

Estranged for most of the year,
Through actions of his own doing
Rolls up to the door
But there is no trouble brewing
Forgotten in what seemed an age
And arrived after about a year
The prodigal son walks through the door
And allays every single fear
Greeted with open arms
and kisses to the cheek
Christmas feels like it did years ago
Light at the end of the tunnel, tis not bleak
We take out a chair for him
The cry goes out “Make room for one more at the table”
He tells us about move abroad
And how his marriage was not stable
Family torn up
And in need of a break
We’ll always have room for him
We are all allowed to make the odd mistake
It doesnt matter what has been said
Or for that matter, what has been done,
For we now have back a member of the family
No longer a prodigal son

Öèôðîâàÿ ðåïðîäóêöèÿ íàõîäèòñÿ â èíòåðíåò-ìóçåå Gallerix.ru

Fluffybiscuits – 29/12/2012

Winter Poem

December 28, 2012 - Leave a Response

In the dark, the wind inhabits the trees

They’re swathed with wind like a misty cloth.

Not a single leaf or fruit remains.

The wind strips to the last shred each twig and branch

Once dressed with fragile lichens, jade and white.

Each naked twig and branch is stretched for light long gone

Till the turning of the year brings light again.

mmm

Enheduanna – 28/12/2012

Christmas In Captivity

December 26, 2012 - Leave a Response

There was a certain collective gloom hung over Christmas in Gaol, as I recall.  On every face you could sense that mood. Especially amongst the first timers.

Come the hour  (midnight xmas eve) you could hear a pin drop, sometimes a tear drop amongst the uncanny silence in the dark.

Individual men were having their ”Dickens of a Christmas” confronting Ghosts of Christmas’s past, Christmas present and Christmas’s yet to come. As with ”Scrooge” in” A Christmas Carol”

Psychologically, Christmas caused them to recall happier moments/or not, in different environments and so ”the seasonal spirit” had their minds elsewhere.

I’m not the greatest of singers, but Prison bars and yards and concrete blocks produces a hauntingly toned vibration that suits my voice and can be heard through every cell and beyond the block.

In eerie silence I began to say the words in rolling rhyme  (slow song)  ”Silent night, Holy Night, all is calm, all is bright, Round yon Virgin, Mother and child”

After ”Holy Infant” and so on, I caught the sound of the first tears with the words ”Sleep in Heavenly Peace”

For days previously the screws had placed a wee Christmas Tree near to the prisoners phone booth. A wee mind game they enjoy.

As I went to the phone I was singing to the tune of ”Walking in a Winter Wonderland” but changed the words to ”Later on, If you wanta, You can dress like Madonna, ”Walking round in Women’s Underwear!”  (Reverse Psychology)

Being a mixed Religion remand wing I’m surprised I got beyond ”Round yon Virgin” without an uproar from opposing religious based groupings.

Not a word.
Silent remained the Night and the Peace was Heavenly.

snow prison

Trow – 26/12/2012

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