I rise
Up everyday
Like the glorious sun
But I fail sometimes to reach my
Summit
And yet
I learn
With every night
That the darkness can be
The easiest place to look for
The light
Poetry
LIVING
I am angry,
Tired, sleepless, restless,
Bitter, torn
And twisted.
I am tearful,
Frightened, silenced, muted,
Mixed up, maddened
And pestered.
I am bloody
Boiling, brooding, blushing,
Bending over
Backwards.
But I’m alive
Surviving, breathing, breaking,
Living, learning,
Evolving.
MOTHERS CHILD
We are carved and we are cared for,
Cuddled and coddled all our lives,
But we are, will always remain
A mother’s creation, the love
And labour of the hands
That first held us.
I see you
In me, in the minutes so simple,
In the moments so precious,
Sometimes so predictable,
Other times obscure.
I see you
In me, all your lessons listened to,
Learnt from, lived out, a part
Of me now, a part
Of who I am.
I see you
In me, in my ever evolving hands,
Fumbling along their lines of life
But I see your caress steering,
Guiding me on as I
Clutch, climb,
Create.
I see myself
In you, in your eyes, reflecting all
My passion and your pride
Of this gift you gave me,
This life, its laughter
And its love.
I see you,
Ignoring the separating distances,
The forceful waters that flood
Their way around us
But have failed so
In their attempt
To divide us.
I see you
Today, in that jumble of geography,
Challenging the mountains high
And the tides returning,
Unbreakable.
I see you
The light and magic, the mother
Miraculous, a million others
All waiting, wanting, trying,
A million babies, needing,
And still we found
Each other.
I see you
Right before me, yesterday, today
Carefully tidying up memories,
Gently tossing away tears,
Happy in what we had,
Forever soothing
My fears.
I see you,
Smiling. I see you, living, learning.
I see you in heels and happiness,
I have watched you forgiving
And forgetting. I see you
Laughing and loving.
I see you.
I see you
And through you I can see myself
And smile at all we’ve created,
Laugh at the joy we shared,
Wait with the breath held
For all that’s still
Yet to come.
I see you
Now, see the twinkle in your eyes
And I smile at the strength
You taught me.
I see you,
Like this,
Always.
THE DARK ABYSS
Darkness
Like a blanket
Pulled too tight
On a warm day
And sweeps
Over the body
And seeps,
Like a sickness,
Beneath the skin.
Darkness,
Like clouds blocking
Out a summers sun,
Covers life from light
And sucks,
Like a leech,
At love
And laughter.
Darkness,
Like the enemy,
Fakes falsities
To befriend you
Then blinds you,
Breaks you,
Betrays you,
Drains you.
Darkness,
Like an itch
You cannot scratch,
Grates its way
Along your spine
To pierce you,
Panic you,
Pull you
Down,
Dull and deep,
And leaves you
In the abyss
Lost.
FLYING IN AIR
I am airborne,
Life is being lived
Beneath me
Amid the flickering lights,
In the daunting darkness,
Like festive fairies twinkling-
All myth and mystery,
Miles away
Amid mountains
That look like molehills,
Meandering mechanically
In moving motors.
I am now living
In the breath held,
Passing through time,
Pausing,
Passive,
Patient,
Pondering possibilities,
Playing ability
Against probability
Wondering where I will rest
One day, that day
When wings ring out
With weariness
And my feet find their land again
And path to plod along.
I know
What lies beneath,
Have seen the suction
Of the cites
And their seduction,
Have seen the wonder
In the wilderness
Where wolves are wild
And winds are free,
But I am ignorant
Of what rests above,
Up there,
Out of reach,
Far from sight
In the darkening deafness,
Beyond the burnt out stars
And all understanding of existence.
I am airborne,
Live is being
Lived out
Beneath me,
Without me,
And I wonder
Are the souls
Who left me
Long ago
Flying above me?
FRAGILE BEAUTY
Fragile beauty
Caught in the garden,
Flickerings of ruby red
Tenderly unraveling
From garlands of green
Amid a day
Named ordinary.
It is the fairest pleasure,
The simplest suggestion of perfection,
Nature unearthing itself
Onto the world
And yet
It is the easiest
To crush-
A cry of crimson
Carelessly caught
In the chaos
Of our calloused hands.
We are the blossom
Of our dull days
And are no more
Imperishable,
Unbreakable,
Immortal
Than a rose
Risen one day
To be clipped the next,
Never knowing
How a season can be
But a minute,
A year
But an hour,
A lifetime
But a day.
We hold the beauty
In our fragile fingers,
Careful we must be
How tightly
We clutch our lives,
For only in our hands
Can we shape it,
Share it
And ensure
It survives.
Christmas, It’s A Wonderful Life
Bells and baubles bound to branches
While tinsel twists and turns and ties,
Santa’s sleighs and snowmen dancing
Lights all aglow like stars in skies,
On the tree an angel sparkles,
Crackers to pull and bells to ring,
Neath the tree a manger slumbers
With a bed that waits for a King,
Reindeers leap with noses glowing
And crystal snowflakes catch the light,
Mama’s wrapping, Daddy’s snoring
While not a child can sleep tonight,
Carrots washed and the cookies laid
The fire is out and chimney preened,
Sprouts are steeping and pudding’s made
Stockings hung and the turkey cleaned,
On the telly Julie’s singing
Over the hills and next to nuns,
In their beds kids are dreaming
Of barbie dolls and small toy guns,
The cards have come and candles lit,
Mistletoe placed and holly hung,
Cupboards bursting and bellies full,
Potatoes pealed and Bing has sung,
Sons and daughters are back at home
Reunions made and laundry done,
Mince pies warmed and the mulled wine brewed
Carolers called, charades begun,
In the dawn all children wakening
Reaching out to stockings now filled
Leap down stairs to gifts awaiting,
Their magic, myth and dreams fulfilled,
Big bird’s in the oven cooking
Husband will carve to charm the wife,
The crib’s now filled with the new born King
Its Xmas tradition, it’s a Wonderful Life.
Merry Christmas Everyone
WICKED WILLS
The wolves are out,
Baying in the shadows,
Fetid breath fowling air,
Drool dribbling in the darkness.
The wolves are out,
Growling gratuitously,
Muzzle sniffing movement,
Fangs feverish for flesh.
The wolves are out,
Their scent; steaming,
Their eyes; searching
For substance to satisfy.
The wolves are out,
Their panting petrifying,
Prowling on poised paws
Picturing us as prey
The wolves are out,
Our streets; their forest now,
Our buildings; their shelter,
Our fear; their force.
The wolves are out,
Drawing disguises
From our likenesses,
Slivering among us
Sniffing out old scars
And worn wounds
To leap at lavishly,
Devour on desperately.
The wolves are out,
Tail twisted in and under,
Standing tall on hind legs,
Shaved bodies to assimilate,
Poured over in perfume
But their stench lingers
To stale the street.
The wolves are out,
There’s horror in their howling
And chaos in their cackling,
Predators posing as persons,
But no pretence parts them
From their purpose
And I worry what their wicked will wants.
THE WOKEN DREAMER
I am the woken dreamer,
Lost from all faith
In the magic.
Finding an impossibility
In the longevity
Of ever after.
Is it really no more than
The stuff and nonsense
Of fairy tales
And children’s dreams,
Not fit at all
For real mens lives
And the in betweens?
I was willing once
To find favour
In the moment
But they have fallen,
So infrequent of late
That I fancy them now
To be the filling of folly,
Frivolous and fortune-less.
There were others once,
One time dreamers
Who once danced their dream
In to mine.
Did we lose each other,
Or was it all but a trick,
Have I spoken too soon,
Or have I woken too quick?
THE STRUGGLE
To be a poet of
The heart and mind
Is to step away
From all that is close
And to look back
From afar.
To struggle
With the truth
Of what we are told
And to search for
What we believe.
To fall on the road
And document the struggle
To stand again.
To be torn from
The heart of your dearest
By the changing hand
Of that very heart
And find a place again,
In your own, alone.
To breath again
And remind yourself
To do this daily,
To look into the dark
And, in blindness,
Search for the light.
To dream at night
While accepting
The reality
Of the coming dawn.
To open your eyes
To an unknown world
When you were safe
In the one you’d accepted.
To wander
The lonely road
That you must take,
Alone.
To cry,
To shed your pain,
To cleanse your body,
To clear out
So as to move on.
To sob
In the face of beauty
And smile
In the midst of horror
So as to live.
To travel
The mind’s horizons
And discover the bounties
Hidden in its depths
So as to release the poet
Inside lays within us all.
Damien B. Donnelly 