the corner shop near the railway station
opens now unlike when we came here first
when everything would shut on Sunday
the flea market in Mauerpark
is over-ridden with people selling kitsch
but we always go and we love it
everyone is so cool here that I think being cool
isn't hip anymore,
the street is a sea of hipsters in black
it's early Spring and there is still
no ferries on the Spree
but if you walk down the right street
you'll catch a couple of musicians
maybe a juggling act
that blend in with graffiti and art
in the evening we'll go to the TV Tower
like tourists
pretend we can afford dinner in the revolving restaurant
two hundred and three metres high
and look over the cars on the road to Berlin-Mitte
that look like graceful glowing bugs below
we'll get have a cocktail with dinner in Caramba
in the square (just one)
and listen to light German jazz
with no need to worry
if the transport still runs at night
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC
Something made me think of you
while on a late-night train
I suppressed a smile while by myself
I shouldn't think about you again
As we rattled into our first stop
I thought of our first kiss
the carriage was warm but lonely
like you, on the Dublin to Galway express
We trundled on to station two
you crowded my head once more
I reminisced on our second summer then
when you used come to my door
By the time we arrived at station three
my thoughts were bitter and shrill -
you'd taken my heart, I'd forgotten that part
and leaned in for the ****
Before my stop, the train broke down
and grinded to a halt,
giving me time to reflect on what I used call 'perfect'
things that are now, undoubtedly, faults
Once the train started up, my mind was clear
as a summer Sunday sky. I alighted the train,
as it moved on in the night,
I saw
that so had I.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 1:27 PM UTC
I noticed her first
on the other side of the street
blonde, standing tall
an air of ease
engrossed in whatever she was talking about
with him.
I noticed him then
dark, broad
listening close
hanging on her words as if they were worth money
an expression of admiration
five o’clock shadow
furrowed brow.
I kept my eyes on the grey
of the ground. In the cold
I shuffled my scarf as if she might see it –
the place that he kissed me
above my collar bone, the curve of my neck
two nights ago.
They didn’t notice me at all.
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
I was sleeping in my dream the other night
maybe that's how I knew it was a dream
I rolled over and inhaled the smell of aftershave
on pillows and realized I was in your room
in the morning when we wake
your retriever bounds in the door
of the granny-flat, tail wagging, throws her weight
on top of me. my two favourite girls you say,
then you shower, mouthwash, shave,
make breakfast in your house near the sea
with nobody except your dog, an imaginary you,
and a little part of me.
When I wake I think I'm still there
but I'm not where I thought I was
my bedroom is cold and cramped in a city apartment,
a car alarm outside wakes me with a start
my neck is stiff from the singleness of this bed.
I sit up and can see myself in the reflection
of my mirror in the dark. Just me.
I roll over and ignore, just before I fall back asleep,
I wonder to myself if everyone has
that same split second of splendid
between consciousness and dreams
that everything is the way it used to be,
before reality come crashing in like a big, dangerous tidal wave.
I dread falling back asleep.
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 5:08 PM UTC
I
has she and the countryside
ever driven you so mad that
before you've even thought about it
your runners have laced themselves up
you're running in the dark
your feet beating the wet gravel road
you trip on a cattle grid
it is mostly your own fault
but you curse this ******** anyway
each note from the music in your ears
releases that pent-up frustration
until suddenly you drop
the gravel drags the skin off your knees
they bleed. You kneel there for a second
gasping
throw your head up to heaven
or the stars
or whatever is up there
you ask for an answer
but you get nothing.
her voice ringing you can't run from your problems
but here you are, once again
proving her wrong
II
The trees either side of the road you run on
are mangled and twisted
like a witch's fingers
they're judging you, towering over you
little girl go home to bed
don't you know it's dangerous
to be out on your own
on a boithrín this late?
this is how people get taken, or ***** or -
oh shut up!
you scream at them in the dark
words and anger drown your lungs
*you're not my ****** mother*
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 7:19 PM UTC
for E.B.
I knew you were sad
the only way I could think to help
was to bring you to the countryside
as far away as we could get
from your home in the midlands
far from mine in the south west
we slammed the car doors when we got out
it was the loudest sound for miles
you looked up at the sky
furrowed your brow at the stars
like someone had stolen them from you
we don't have stars like this in the city
you didn't cry like I thought you would
I am sorry that someone has taken your stars
so here I am giving you mine
I wanted to tell you that if you're sad
to look at the moon
but I don't think you see the moon
in the same way I do
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 12:32 PM UTC
I told my big brother that I hated him
because he threw sand in my face on the beach in Sydney
it stung and made me cry. He was seven, I was five.
Later we raced from the top of the beach where our mother lay
on a polka dot beach towel, sun-browned as a berry,
to the fringe of the shore where the sea foam was a bubble bath
– the sky looks like a Greek flag, it’s so blue and white.
splashed me, shouting
– do you still hate me?
I laughed
– yes!
When he rose in one big gulp from under the surface of water
his lips and raisin-wrinkled finger tips were tinged blue
rosy streaks slashed across his belly
like he was tied up with poisoned red string.
I tugged on my mother’s sun dress, anxious
– Is he going to die?
– No it was only a baby one, it will do him no harm
–Am I allowed to see him?
–He’ll be out before the sun goes down
–Will you tell him I don’t hate him and it’s okay that he threw sand in my face?
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 2:33 PM UTC
grains of sand
between two slices of bread
blackberry juice boxes and orange dilute
a gloop of oily sun-block
a scent of petrol, coconut, ice-cream
and nothing but pastel blue
a canary yellow body-board
dropped in above my knees
my mother tugging it along
goading me towards the deep
I cling to it til she snaps it from me
I'm pulled underneath
limbs thrashing, lungs gasping
the shock of being afloat
was how I learned to swim in the Maharees
on sandy Fahamore
under Brandon mountain peak
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 6:29 AM UTC
Once I read online
that poetry is becoming more popular
to tweet
even if you must write
in txt spk
this stanza shows you 140 characters
(it doesn't get you very far)
the internet is bad, boys & girls
always giving you something to compare yourself to
or something you wish you had
or someone you wish you had back
but what seems to drive people craziest is
messenger
Seen 12.23pm
k...
idc
my friend said once that one of the toughest things
about her breakup was
having to log out of her ex-boyfriend's
Netflix account
lucky her.
thanks for sharing.
sometimes Google writes poems for me
if I type in the first few words
I wonder if
we smile in our coffins
I wonder if
anyone misses me
I wonder if
I'm wasting my time
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 10:23 AM UTC
He had been becoming older
I looked at him the same
his dark hair showed no signs of it
his beard had flecks of grey
I remember we would take refuge
under blankets
or a fort made of cushions
we'd stay up later than our mother knew
soon he would be the parent
being hidden from
when his little boy grows up
maybe he'll be a rogue, like you were
occupied in work
with the thought of coming home to be a father
it feels like we're living the future now -
he's married and so settled down
light blue sheets cover the weary mother
they catch my eye, I smile
because they match the cap and romper suit
of his new-born baby boy
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 4:46 AM UTC