Writing
2012
At the Arts Festival, Galway
At the Arts Festival, Galway
There are swans on the Corrib,
Along Quay Street the pubs areTHE OLD DARK ROOM OF MEMORIES
That old dark room that lay partially forgotten,
Forgotten from mind not forgotten from memory,
Memory that if remembered left feelings of loss,Shadow Dwellers
Those who dwell in shadows
Are not children of the dark
But rather students of anguish and fearTHE BIRD
The bird outside my window sings with a cry,
Waking me from sleep early of a morning,
Then I rub my eyes and breathe out with a sigh.Why Must It Be?
Why must life be
Enviously
Pursued by the one who scythesThe Chase II
She blew smoke
She’s no bloke
My heart’s brokeThe Door
What’s behind a closed door?
I look at one now, white
I want to see through itTouch-and-Go
Walked under the moon
Three Thursdays ago
I looked through my eyesPAST
Flashes of memory
Return to me when
False illusions feed my bad dreams,After The Pain
Memories arrive uninvited—
Slamming the screen door--
Materializing out of thin air,Summer Haiku
Fleeting days of warmth
Captured like glowing fireflies
Comfort for cold nightsAlliteration
Goofy gangly geese
Are not what they seem
They'll nip your tiny ticklish toesSWAN IN THE BACKGROUND
The swan reflects upon the surface of the water,
As a poet contemplates their inner being and soul,
The reflection connects with the swan,THE VARIOUS EXPRESSIONS OF TRAVEL
Travel...
from town to city,
from car to bus,A Poem About Poetry By A Poet
Poets and poetry are like script is to paper -
One is fit for use by the other;
Script and paper go hand in hand -