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We shout quietly into mother's failing ear,

conscious of the others in the ward,

though their faces suggest they are absent.

 

She is sure that the thing which takes her temperature

is making her hearing worse.

 

Frail ladies clutch flimsy nighties

to skeletal bones,

while horsey voiced visitors

boom into unhearing ears.

 

A huge man in a greatcoat

strokes his lush, black beard

and...

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A single letter is as naked and vulnerable as the virgin white page

The thrust of sentiment comes from the streams that forge the channel

Could it be the start of lover’s dreams to slip letters between sheets?

Letters link warming thoughts to sentiment received and understood

Messages replenish veins of emotion once thought dry, adding power

Racing imagery floods deltas o...

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Ghostly hands
touch the fog
shielding the future
from my sight,
and I stare
deep into the white,
wondering what is approaching,
what is waiting
in the wings of another year
pulling the strings
and unraveling the rest of now
to bring it closer to me.
Pushing through the fog,
I still see nothing,
and the ground has been swallowed
into the hands of oblivion.
I ha...

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my best poems of 2007

 

My words collapse like deck chairs

they can no longer stand

they are meaningless and they never come out like I planned

they fold up and lay on the floor

like they don't want to play anymore

I try to say more to cover my tracks

so people can't say anything back

or I retract what I've just said

leave the sentence I've just said for dead

but still I can never tal...

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I’m not going into this
So blind I can’t see,
But when you position me
Across cotton territories
I fumble at the seams
     Overwhelmed in us
As we shake the cobwebs free
To drift lazily into autumn dreams
Leaving ghost of summer past,
Clutching at layers of fabric
          I slip the silk shift
Over unsightly permanent scar
Wickedly chasing shooting stars.

Position ...

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Ah Christmas time,  Don't you feel a glow as all of mankind comes together as one?

 

Well maybe not...  But on 20th December 2007, I will hopefully be spreading what little cheer I have, whilst I read poems from my Christmas Collection, 'Mistletoe and Root Beer', and sing my Christmas songs, to the patients of, Temple Street Children Hospital, Dublin.  I did the same thing last year and it was a...

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The Key 

They all came for good reasons,
seeking comfort and solace in the grounds of the dead.
Drinking spirits or laying flowers, readers of poetry,
and the loners with mental disorders.
The dusk and psychology of keys swept them out onto hedgerows
you lock yourself in at the end of a watch,
It’s a way...

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