The sand drenched in blood, sword arm aches.
Yet another foe approaches,soon he to shall die.
I am the gladiator, battle is my home.
Pain is for the weak, I feel it not
Cut off my limb I shall grow another.
For I am everlasting,I am immortaL
Cry no tears for me, I am the hunter.
The one you fear and dare not speak my name.
Come and vanquish me if you dare
I WAIT FOR MY END

Empty Inside

F J McCarthy on Jun 17, 2009


Empty, hollow, nothing left.
The way I feel inside.
No substance there I am bereft.
With nothing left to hide.
Barren,stark, like windblown sand.
No purchase to be found.
Tossed about like a tumble weed.
This world has worn me down.
Dried out ,hardened,like a stone.
I’m ready for the fire.
Burn me up till I am gone.
My soul can now retire.

So long have I searched, on high and below.
Yet the truth that I seek does elude me.
I hear hints of it's laughter as the blackbird does crow.
In the whispers she sends to delude me.

Is my ego that frail to be bought by her voice.
When the words are said strickly to please.
Am I just her toy puppet without any choice.
So easily brought to my knees?

Damn you truth come and show me what's real.
I have waited as long as I might.
Shatter the mirrors and take down the veil.
I'm no longer afraid of the light.

The blinders are off and my soul is laid bare.
Judge me for all that you see.
The elusive truth is finally here'
With the knowledge to set my soul free.

Look in the mirror and know who you are.
Except all of your faults as they be.
You are a being as bright as a star
With a soul as deep as the sea.

Yes you are the one, you have finally seen.
That the truth was inside you so long.
And where ever you go ,or wherever you've been.
You decide what is right and what's wrong.

Poetry

F J McCarthy on Aug 9, 2010
What poetry means to me.


Poetry is the music that plays in my head,it is the beat  of my heart when I see beauty.

Poetry is two lovers walking hand in hand completely alone as the world rushes by.

The wind in the trees ,a bird in flight, a childs first step,these are poetry.

Tears of joy at a loved ones safe return, the birth of a child.

Every day of our lives are filled with poetry.

If we are lucky we can somehow translate the love and the sorrow, the joy and the pain,into words.

Words that stir our emotions, words that make us happy or sad, that bring tears to our eyes.

Sometimes raw and unpolished,sometimes beautifully balanced and flowing.

Words not to be judged as right or wrong,just to be read and perhaps to be felt.

We call those words poetry, I call them my heart, my soul, and all the things I long for.

All my hopes and my fears locked within the pages of my poetry, just waiting to be found and set free.

Why Did You Go?

F J McCarthy on Mar 28, 2009






So many things I would have told you,

If you had given me a chance.

Now your gone I want to hold you,

Soft music playing while we dance.

You packed your bags without a warning,

I came back to an empty home.

It seems I wake up every morning,

Still can’t believe my love is gone.

I wish that I could find the answer,

the reason for your discontent.

Farewell to you my lovely dancer,

You leave me in bewilderment.

Do you realize the way you hurt me,

Was I just a passing fling?

How easily you can desert me,

when I would have given  you everything.

I know that time will heal this pain.

Might take a thousand years.

Perhaps I can forget your face ,

But I wont forget the tears.

Meeting Lisa

F J McCarthy on Jan 8, 2009

I wrote this to my girlfriend, now my wife. She must have liked it, she still married me.

My heart was a deep dark well,
And at the bottom only sand.
Then you came, and I could tell,
That my love could flood the land.
Jealous was the morning sun,
When he saw you through my eyes.
For then he knew, the love in you.
Could brighten midnight skies.
Fields of roses, perfect all,
Could not bear to show it.
For in thier midst,you’d pale them all.
And the world would always know it.

The Letter

F J McCarthy on Apr 24, 2010

This kind of sung in my head like a country song,I hope you like it.





I looked at the letter,turned yellow with time the paper so fragile and old.

I couldn’t hold back the tears as I read every line, the words  made me lose my control.

From the date on the top it was twenty years old, I  would have been about ten.

That was the year that my father passed , and this letter ,I knew was from him.

It said “Son I just don’t know how to tell you, you’re so young and you might not believe.

The doctors you see, have found something in me ,and they don’t give me much longer to live.

I don’t think it’s fair,to take me from you when there’s so many things left undone.

Who will teach you ’bout life,how to drive your first car,I thought I would be the one.

So I wrote you this letter,so someday you will know, that your daddy didn’t want to go.

I am missing you now as I write down these words,missing the boy and watching him grow.

Missing the boy becoming a man, and all of the things you will do.

But I’m telling you son as the years roll on by I will always be watching over you.

So take care of your mama and make daddy proud, be a good boy and good man

I love you so much, and I’m telling you son I would be there if I can.

So please don’t be sad cause I had to go, and one more thing I have to say.

God has his plan, for this simple man, and I’ll see you in Heaven some day.

Two in the Morning

F J McCarthy on Jan 13, 2009


It’s two in the morning, I should be in bed.
But I’m on this computer, with these words in my head.
So I pour me some coffee, while the house sleeps away.
Guess I’ll get an early start to my day.
Can’t say what I’m writing, I’m not really sure.
A poem a ditty, An insomniacs cure.
My brain thinks the words, and my fingers tap away.
Will I remember this tomorrow, I really can’t say.
So if your like me, staying up late at night.
Type out a few poems, don’t care if there’r right.
It helps me to write, clears the dust from my head.
But it’s two in the morning, I shold get to bed.

The Anger Inside Me

F J McCarthy on Feb 12, 2009


Where does it come from, this anger inside.

It washes over me like a tidal wave.

Makes me feel like a caged beast.

Ready to strike from out of my cave.

Try to control it can get so hard.

When people are pushy and mean.

Sometime I feel I could rip off their heads.

reach down their throats and rip out their spleen.

I feel like something has taken me

and nothing can calm me down

I look for my antagonist, there’s no-one here  but me.

So I scream yet I can’t hear a sound.

Inside I boil from this rage.

That Just comes to me like the wind.

So I hammer my anger onto this page.

Til my sanity comes again.

Naked Haiku

F J McCarthy on May 14, 2009

A humorous Haiku.



Running naked free

Across the golden cornfields

Stumble could be bad

Whimsy

F J McCarthy on Jan 14, 2000


I can’t , I won”t.

I shan’t, I don’t.

I might, tonight.

Is it right, not quite.

How bout later, in the elevator.

I could  mate her, on the escalator.

Should I Try, she might cry.

Then I’d die. Too damn shy.

I guess I should quit. Before I forget.

\Seems a solid bet, Oh to hell with it.

To Jessica

F J McCarthy on Jan 8, 2009

Dedicated to my niece, who is a little beacon of joy.


The most beautiful soul I have ever met, Is my sisters first born child.

Her smile is one you cant forget, So innocent,yet wild.

Her eyes so bright , they fill your heart,With gladness overflowing.

For Jessica is a special girl, That your better off for knowing.

If your filled with anger, And feel your ready to burst.

The best thing you can do. Is talk to Jessica first

She’ll sit on your lap, She might sing a song.

She’ll tell you a story, But before very long,

You’ll smile,and you’ll laugh, and your heart will be glad.

And you would not believe you could ever get mad.

Someday I’ll have a kid of my own, or maybe two or three.

If they have half the heart of Jessica, Then a happy dad I’ll be.

Pickle Haiku

F J McCarthy on Jul 17, 2009


Green fresh cucumber

Drowning in spiced vinegar

Reborn a pickle

Thin

F J McCarthy on Jan 8, 2010


I am thin, stretched to far,waiting for something to break.

A drum that has felt too many beats,a heart too many aches.

I am the trampoline you dance on with joy,never notice the tears that you rip.

I am the burro that carries your load,never flinch at the sting of your whip.

Time and again I pray for release, from the pain of this prison I’m in.

While you go on oblivious to the anguish you cause me within.

Faster harder the drumbeats sound as you dance upon my soul.

Grinding me into the hard cold ground with a heart that is black as coal.

I feel myself fading, you have pushed too hard,the skin is about too burst.

Of all the mistakes I have ever made, loving you was the worst

Writing Haiku

F J McCarthy on Apr 15, 2010

How I feel about writing.



Writing like breathing

Involuntary action

A force of nature

Love Should Not Hurt

F J McCarthy on Jan 25, 2009


I always thought that’s the way, it’s supposed to be.
Love lasts forever,until the day you die.
Love makes you happy, it never makes you cry.
The love that we made when fresh as morning dew,
Was the way I Thought true love should be,with you.
No-one ever told me,how could I ever know.
That the love you said you had for me was only just a show.
Taking all that I could give, yet giving little back.
You have cut my heart more deeply, than any heart attack.
The coldness that you show to me ,I’m so easy to dismiss.
Is so far from the heat I felt the first time we did kiss.
Tossed aside like garbage, thrown down in the dirt.
Didn’t any one tell you, Love's not supposed to hurt…

You are My World

F J McCarthy on Jul 2, 2010
To my wife, Lisa.



When did the world begin?

When did the sun first shine?

I think I know when it might have been,

When your eyes first met mine.

When did my heart first beat?

When did I start to see?

The first time our lips did meet,

Your kiss gave true love to me.

Now time has passed and we are one.

Joined as man and wife.

When people ask, how long we’ve been together

I tell them for all of my life.

A Darkness in My Soul

F J McCarthy on May 29, 2009
Inspired by a line in Don Mclean’s song “Vincent”.





It seems to me there is a place that lingers in my mind.

A dark and dreadful kind of space, that I dare not try to find.

Emotions I have kept inside, dredged from a deep dark hole.

I can’t escape, I cannot hide, from the darkness in my soul.

Like a mongrel dog it follows,always close at hand.

Beware it’s rabid bite,it will consume you if it can.

Violent angry hateful place, filled with darkness and despair.

It tears at you to take control destroyer without care.

I cannot run away from this, it is there just out of sight

Lurking like an an ambusher, to cut me in the night.

I wish that I could find the light, to somehow make me whole.

Til then I wage my private war, with the darkness in my soul.

Childhood Lessons

F J McCarthy on Jul 17, 2009


We learn to crawl we learn to walk.

We learn to run we learn to talk.

We learn to take we learn to give

How do we learn the way to live.

We teach our kids what’s wrong and right.

We teach our young to stand and fight

We want them to be strong and brave.

We tell them just how to behave.

We learn to work to earn our pay

We learn that’s how we make our way.

Then something happens along that road.

To many bumps on our moral code.

We learn to cheat we learn to lie.

We teach ourselves to justify.

We know whats wrong and still we do it.

At least we beat the other guy to it.

The things we tell our children no.

Become Ok for us to do.

We learn such lessons and call it life.

Say this is how you deal with strife.

Innocence of youth now long forgot.

Pushed aside by life’s dreadnaught.

There is still hope though, if you care to see.

In our childrens hearts still pure and free.

Childhood lessons to learn again.

Remember the children, and dream my friend.

F J McCarthy on Apr 5, 2009
A four part Haiku.




Deep sea creatures swim

Never knowing we are here

Existing apart


Worlds unknown to us

Cold dark sea,  home to many

Life beyond our own.


Careless in our haste

Spilling poison in the sea

Killing precious life


Mother of all life

Forgive us our foolishness

blessed is the sea