mark-mcconville - Hello Poetry

I need a spark of truth A doting girl to establish love again In my world of cutting pain A pain that embeds and does not subside An agony twisting and turning. I feel your pain too A double dose, a double shot, I feel your anger, your rage, The words you put on the crumpled page. The daze I find myself occupying Helps me to eradicate unwanted thoughts Which used to play out in a sequence of brutal events Where ghosts fight with tyrants, and angels fight with hellfire, My mind is a messy affair, dusty but clear enough to hurt me. You are observing my destruction, the world’s destruction, It is all coming down, crumbling on our unhealthy cognitions, Dreams are too far gone, love is stuck in a capsule of misery, And the hope list is haemorrhaging ink. We are truly dying.

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May 5, 2023

May 5, 2023 at 7:41 AM UTC

Twisting And Turning

I need a spark of truth A doting girl to establish love again In my world of cutting pain A pain that embeds and does not subside An agony twisting and turning. I feel your pain too A double dose, a double shot, I feel your anger, your rage, The words you put on the crumpled page. The daze I find myself occupying Helps me to eradicate unwanted thoughts Which used to play out in a sequence of brutal events Where ghosts fight with tyrants, and angels fight with hellfire, My mind is a messy affair, dusty but clear enough to hurt me. You are observing my destruction, the world’s destruction, It is all coming down, crumbling on our unhealthy cognitions, Dreams are too far gone, love is stuck in a capsule of misery, And the hope list is haemorrhaging ink. We are truly dying.

19

The Foundations Of Love. Tonight we face the biggest fear They have taken her through To the immaculate room Where wires and beeping noises Become interconnected. There’s no silence deep enough to count There’s conversations of a complex nature People flap like birds, and the space, Starts to fill up and human spirit falls. The beeps soar into louder frequencies We’re scared, rooted to the ground, Our legs won’t move, our hearts pulsate, Our dreams begin to fade into a grey Thicker than smoke from the industrial wasteland. Empty shells, we’ve become hollowed out mannequins, with no feeling left, To pull the sheets over our faces To stop this scene from freezing our souls. The light confirms that we’re frozen To the middle of this room The beeps fade, and we’re seeing pictures of her, moving close to the frame, and her tiny fingers smudge the glass. This isn’t a dream It’s what a fever does to you We’re sick, but she’s critical, Holding onto the world The foundations of love. We disband from each other Our eyes open And the beeping sound comes in force, She’s alive, sinking back into a life, She’s frail, her optimism drawn from times of great strength. They stand back, and the light outweighs the greyness, ‘’ She’s alive, and you’re back in the room’’

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Jul 16, 2022

Jul 16, 2022 at 3:38 PM UTC

The Foundations Of Love

The Foundations Of Love. Tonight we face the biggest fear They have taken her through To the immaculate room Where wires and beeping noises Become interconnected. There’s no silence deep enough to count There’s conversations of a complex nature People flap like birds, and the space, Starts to fill up and human spirit falls. The beeps soar into louder frequencies We’re scared, rooted to the ground, Our legs won’t move, our hearts pulsate, Our dreams begin to fade into a grey Thicker than smoke from the industrial wasteland. Empty shells, we’ve become hollowed out mannequins, with no feeling left, To pull the sheets over our faces To stop this scene from freezing our souls. The light confirms that we’re frozen To the middle of this room The beeps fade, and we’re seeing pictures of her, moving close to the frame, and her tiny fingers smudge the glass. This isn’t a dream It’s what a fever does to you We’re sick, but she’s critical, Holding onto the world The foundations of love. We disband from each other Our eyes open And the beeping sound comes in force, She’s alive, sinking back into a life, She’s frail, her optimism drawn from times of great strength. They stand back, and the light outweighs the greyness, ‘’ She’s alive, and you’re back in the room’’

33

I paint sunsets on walls To cover the blood of old And tiny handprints. Forward a day And the sunset outside Rises up and the radiance is beautiful A natural embrace. For me, The darkness has not faded It is there, embedded in my head, Covering the dreams that had light. And he left, Disgraced and demoralized by his actions, He spoke in his nightmares Screaming too, About the past and demons. My heart had been shaken By alarming instances When the shades were pulled shut And the blood rushed to my head. I was down on my luck Penniless and scorned by society Outnumbered by tainted people. Those days are still instilled in me Snapshots of misery.

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May 18, 2020

May 18, 2020 at 8:08 AM UTC

I Paint Sunsets On Walls.

I paint sunsets on walls To cover the blood of old And tiny handprints. Forward a day And the sunset outside Rises up and the radiance is beautiful A natural embrace. For me, The darkness has not faded It is there, embedded in my head, Covering the dreams that had light. And he left, Disgraced and demoralized by his actions, He spoke in his nightmares Screaming too, About the past and demons. My heart had been shaken By alarming instances When the shades were pulled shut And the blood rushed to my head. I was down on my luck Penniless and scorned by society Outnumbered by tainted people. Those days are still instilled in me Snapshots of misery.

25

The storm is coming A crash, a tornado to rip through Our shaking bodies And we still grasp onto the the thin Fabric of companionship. I wish we could silence the noises, The cutting voices, the blunt answers, the rasping chants, And rediscover normal conversations. Hurt has toppled us Rippled through our life’s In this room Armageddon begins to Take shape Rallying its demonstration of destruction. Love burns at this moment in time Nothing can halt it from flaking into Nothingness It was our cure, ever so pure. The sun is setting on our dreams Seeking redemption for the faults we created is unreachable We can’t just perish? This isn’t a call for forgiveness Or a chance to stake a claim It’s a war story...

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Dec 7, 2019

Dec 7, 2019 at 12:14 PM UTC

It’s A War Story.

The storm is coming A crash, a tornado to rip through Our shaking bodies And we still grasp onto the the thin Fabric of companionship. I wish we could silence the noises, The cutting voices, the blunt answers, the rasping chants, And rediscover normal conversations. Hurt has toppled us Rippled through our life’s In this room Armageddon begins to Take shape Rallying its demonstration of destruction. Love burns at this moment in time Nothing can halt it from flaking into Nothingness It was our cure, ever so pure. The sun is setting on our dreams Seeking redemption for the faults we created is unreachable We can’t just perish? This isn’t a call for forgiveness Or a chance to stake a claim It’s a war story...

23

Paper thin walls will reveal the truth The pills will disconnect us from the world Our hands are dry and weak We can barely carry the bottle Of wine to the end point At the edge of oblivion. We forget the days As we find ourselves captured in a daze Unwanted memories Burden us We need holy water to wash away Our sins. Coping is difficult When the world shuts us down When we’re disenchanted Neglected by the powers at be We’re harshly underrated Understated. Forgiving these ******** Is going to take guts and reason We don’t want to forgive and forget We want to walk through the flurry Of skepticism Alive and well. We’re junkies Latching onto society Like leeches But we want change We want to correct what we’ve done Burst from these cocoons of strain. My father taught me to believe It’s hard to It’s difficult to mould a direction Which is smooth And untangled. But we can honour our strengths Surrender when we need to But never give into politics Never feed the system.

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Dec 10, 2017

Dec 10, 2017 at 5:12 PM UTC

Never Feed The System.

Paper thin walls will reveal the truth The pills will disconnect us from the world Our hands are dry and weak We can barely carry the bottle Of wine to the end point At the edge of oblivion. We forget the days As we find ourselves captured in a daze Unwanted memories Burden us We need holy water to wash away Our sins. Coping is difficult When the world shuts us down When we’re disenchanted Neglected by the powers at be We’re harshly underrated Understated. Forgiving these ******** Is going to take guts and reason We don’t want to forgive and forget We want to walk through the flurry Of skepticism Alive and well. We’re junkies Latching onto society Like leeches But we want change We want to correct what we’ve done Burst from these cocoons of strain. My father taught me to believe It’s hard to It’s difficult to mould a direction Which is smooth And untangled. But we can honour our strengths Surrender when we need to But never give into politics Never feed the system.

39

Forgive me for drinking all of our wine I was hooked on misery, inside a bubble of complacency, Running from my own demons, sinking deeply into ruin, Exerting my heart for once, I’m now breathing with difficulty, Catching a common cold. You deserve more A better man A traveller who is cultured Who loves everything you say and seek? But I can’t dictate your feelings Why should I? I’m not in your head or fondling with your thoughts. My oblivion is rooted I search for clarity All I find is blurry lines I try to master breaking the habit All I do is drink more And become expressionless Anti-social and unforgivable. You were my escape artist Sneaking out at night Playing with fire Saluting the flames Like bands of brothers And I would lie there On a cut up mattress Sinking enough painkillers to **** the agony. This thirst Prolonging the pain I hate water Only wine will help Only ***** burns. Silence is golden When you are used to it I prefer blaring TV sets And people talking about realism And sobriety But I’m such a hypocrite. You fall into the doorway Drunk and drugged to the heavens Boring me with sob stories And grievances. I strive for better days But we sink profoundly into a daze So potent So strong So ******

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Nov 12, 2017

Nov 12, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC

You Were My Escape Artist.

Forgive me for drinking all of our wine I was hooked on misery, inside a bubble of complacency, Running from my own demons, sinking deeply into ruin, Exerting my heart for once, I’m now breathing with difficulty, Catching a common cold. You deserve more A better man A traveller who is cultured Who loves everything you say and seek? But I can’t dictate your feelings Why should I? I’m not in your head or fondling with your thoughts. My oblivion is rooted I search for clarity All I find is blurry lines I try to master breaking the habit All I do is drink more And become expressionless Anti-social and unforgivable. You were my escape artist Sneaking out at night Playing with fire Saluting the flames Like bands of brothers And I would lie there On a cut up mattress Sinking enough painkillers to **** the agony. This thirst Prolonging the pain I hate water Only wine will help Only ***** burns. Silence is golden When you are used to it I prefer blaring TV sets And people talking about realism And sobriety But I’m such a hypocrite. You fall into the doorway Drunk and drugged to the heavens Boring me with sob stories And grievances. I strive for better days But we sink profoundly into a daze So potent So strong So ******

47

There lies the hope Shattered into small intricate pieces Left to be blown away by a strong current. And darling you destroyed my world Left me hanging together Like thinning thread Bleeding from a profound wound Stinging to the touch. My God I've seen so much over the years The Black Death screaming to take me The drunks counting their loose change For one golden can of cheap beer Drinking it like the thirst is undying Like the magic is there Inside something that leads to more Havoc. I rejected the chance to become a man of my word I crawl into a hole every night Drunk to the stars Grasping onto a swollen envelope of love letters. And it strikes me I'm impure My liver is descended in liquid My heart is unqualified And this haze is thicker than the mist That powers through this town in the light of morning. Part II I wake to a stricken morning A snowy wind hitting against the windows The tress screaming out Swaying at an almighty pace. I swallow two painkillers To set me up to fail I dress my aching body Managing not to break bones. I take a drink of cheap wine Nasty on the tongue Deeply putrid I think it might be off Swimming in dirtiness Curdling my uneasy gut. My hands are dry My beard is itchy My life is swollen like a abscess Ready to release **** The TV blares out politics I scorn the man Spitting his woes His laughable thoughts His damaged world For all to **** on. I go through old boxes Of pictures And letters Stacked up like a small skyscraper I look at her angelic eyes Her enchanting face. I can't leave her to rot in a box I place the picture as a centrepiece For me to look at when I'm feeling Tired of living.

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Sep 20, 2017

Sep 20, 2017 at 7:42 PM UTC

Swollen Envelope Of Love Letters.

There lies the hope Shattered into small intricate pieces Left to be blown away by a strong current. And darling you destroyed my world Left me hanging together Like thinning thread Bleeding from a profound wound Stinging to the touch. My God I've seen so much over the years The Black Death screaming to take me The drunks counting their loose change For one golden can of cheap beer Drinking it like the thirst is undying Like the magic is there Inside something that leads to more Havoc. I rejected the chance to become a man of my word I crawl into a hole every night Drunk to the stars Grasping onto a swollen envelope of love letters. And it strikes me I'm impure My liver is descended in liquid My heart is unqualified And this haze is thicker than the mist That powers through this town in the light of morning. Part II I wake to a stricken morning A snowy wind hitting against the windows The tress screaming out Swaying at an almighty pace. I swallow two painkillers To set me up to fail I dress my aching body Managing not to break bones. I take a drink of cheap wine Nasty on the tongue Deeply putrid I think it might be off Swimming in dirtiness Curdling my uneasy gut. My hands are dry My beard is itchy My life is swollen like a abscess Ready to release **** The TV blares out politics I scorn the man Spitting his woes His laughable thoughts His damaged world For all to **** on. I go through old boxes Of pictures And letters Stacked up like a small skyscraper I look at her angelic eyes Her enchanting face. I can't leave her to rot in a box I place the picture as a centrepiece For me to look at when I'm feeling Tired of living.

61

If they could bottle my mind It would explode an incoming tide If they could slaughter my pride I would die tonight. Cigarette burns on my jeans Coffee and whiskey stains on my lips Burrowed drunken tendencies Making me do things I regret From fighting sleep to breaking noses And deadly plunges into despair. I know I have to withstand Refrain from frightening myself again Near death experiences have become the norm I'm a morbid thinker anyway Deeply trying to find a sense of harmony A melody in a disjointed song. Memories are of hazy days Drinking and scratching walls Waiting for them to bleed But my fingers do so Painfully spilling crimson Over immaculate floors. I seek redemption and a upscaled life Full of blooming flower pots And love I seek energy so I can run a marathon To the other side of this world Grasping onto my heart as I do so Keeping my guts intact. My funeral should be empty I don't know anyone who would want to sit through it I'm ain't charming or socially acceptable So why would they want to read out an eulogy of warmth for me? And onto love I go Trying to capture the essence of it Preaching to God about it Manipulating its strain Offering it to strangers who drink with me Because they feel sorry for me. And then I wake up to a groggy feeling A taste so dire I would rather drink my own **** And tell all my secrets To the world. Marry my good side And shatter my bad side Empty pride into a cup of ***** laced orange juice And drink up It may sting It may make you sick But it'll burn your throat And your dreams away. I was once a dashing prince In my own castle In my mind I was a man of power Of glory and hope But truthfully I look like a corpse Dragged through a gutter With snapped tendons in my hands. I sit it in this club for hours Drinking straight up whiskey Ordering so many that I'll be dead Before it's all drunk And then she appears in front of me Beautiful in an organic kind of way Deeply rooted in elegance. It must be an illusion No one this well rounded would want to speak to my washed up self But she does speak Offering me advice On how to live a stable life. I listen carefully To her words She's creative Like a wordsmith A dream catcher A painter of a scene. She grabs my glass and throws it at the wall She takes my hand And tells me I won't fall She orders me to drink coffee Enough to waken my soul. She saved me from myself A princess of the night A girl draped in white. In this apartment I sit With her head on my lap She sleeps, snores even But it drowns the voices in my head. The TV show is glitzy and fake Lovers kissing at every take Their optimism sickening to watch Their eyes have never seen hurt Or death Or knife wounds. I grab a cigarette I smoke it to the end I drink a beer I drink it to the end This pattern only points to one outcome Oblivion. She wakes Kissing me on the cheek Whispering 'Let's fuck' in my ear With haste I jump up And scream You cheated on me Why would I? I think the rats heard me As they scampered into the crevices Hiding away as my wrath begins to widen. She sits back and takes it Looking on at me with bloodshot eyes And a smirk. She grabs her stuff And leaves me to cascade into despair Another beer will be drunk Another piece of love broken by a deceit.

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Aug 14, 2017

Aug 14, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC

Disjointed Song.

If they could bottle my mind It would explode an incoming tide If they could slaughter my pride I would die tonight. Cigarette burns on my jeans Coffee and whiskey stains on my lips Burrowed drunken tendencies Making me do things I regret From fighting sleep to breaking noses And deadly plunges into despair. I know I have to withstand Refrain from frightening myself again Near death experiences have become the norm I'm a morbid thinker anyway Deeply trying to find a sense of harmony A melody in a disjointed song. Memories are of hazy days Drinking and scratching walls Waiting for them to bleed But my fingers do so Painfully spilling crimson Over immaculate floors. I seek redemption and a upscaled life Full of blooming flower pots And love I seek energy so I can run a marathon To the other side of this world Grasping onto my heart as I do so Keeping my guts intact. My funeral should be empty I don't know anyone who would want to sit through it I'm ain't charming or socially acceptable So why would they want to read out an eulogy of warmth for me? And onto love I go Trying to capture the essence of it Preaching to God about it Manipulating its strain Offering it to strangers who drink with me Because they feel sorry for me. And then I wake up to a groggy feeling A taste so dire I would rather drink my own **** And tell all my secrets To the world. Marry my good side And shatter my bad side Empty pride into a cup of ***** laced orange juice And drink up It may sting It may make you sick But it'll burn your throat And your dreams away. I was once a dashing prince In my own castle In my mind I was a man of power Of glory and hope But truthfully I look like a corpse Dragged through a gutter With snapped tendons in my hands. I sit it in this club for hours Drinking straight up whiskey Ordering so many that I'll be dead Before it's all drunk And then she appears in front of me Beautiful in an organic kind of way Deeply rooted in elegance. It must be an illusion No one this well rounded would want to speak to my washed up self But she does speak Offering me advice On how to live a stable life. I listen carefully To her words She's creative Like a wordsmith A dream catcher A painter of a scene. She grabs my glass and throws it at the wall She takes my hand And tells me I won't fall She orders me to drink coffee Enough to waken my soul. She saved me from myself A princess of the night A girl draped in white. In this apartment I sit With her head on my lap She sleeps, snores even But it drowns the voices in my head. The TV show is glitzy and fake Lovers kissing at every take Their optimism sickening to watch Their eyes have never seen hurt Or death Or knife wounds. I grab a cigarette I smoke it to the end I drink a beer I drink it to the end This pattern only points to one outcome Oblivion. She wakes Kissing me on the cheek Whispering 'Let's fuck' in my ear With haste I jump up And scream You cheated on me Why would I? I think the rats heard me As they scampered into the crevices Hiding away as my wrath begins to widen. She sits back and takes it Looking on at me with bloodshot eyes And a smirk. She grabs her stuff And leaves me to cascade into despair Another beer will be drunk Another piece of love broken by a deceit.

120

Come with me to the land of promise Or lie there drunk and out of luck Teetering on the brink You were such a miracle to me. The outside world scares you It makes you itch It makes you anxious You are blinded by the sun And reckless by the minute. I don't know how to save you From your own destructive ways My armour has been pierced And my skin begins to itch like yours. I would walk with you through the blustery weather To the place where people let go Where people kiss the ground A sacred place of harmony. These last days have been hell We've been drinking to the ticking Of the clock and chiming of the church bells. We've been mourning lost souls And bashing our heads off of stern walls Trying to piece together some sort of realisation. I'm misunderstood just like you.

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Jan 16, 2017

Jan 16, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC

Misunderstood.

Come with me to the land of promise Or lie there drunk and out of luck Teetering on the brink You were such a miracle to me. The outside world scares you It makes you itch It makes you anxious You are blinded by the sun And reckless by the minute. I don't know how to save you From your own destructive ways My armour has been pierced And my skin begins to itch like yours. I would walk with you through the blustery weather To the place where people let go Where people kiss the ground A sacred place of harmony. These last days have been hell We've been drinking to the ticking Of the clock and chiming of the church bells. We've been mourning lost souls And bashing our heads off of stern walls Trying to piece together some sort of realisation. I'm misunderstood just like you.

24

Forget me my darling As I try to resolve the situation My hands are shaking My mind is needy I hope to live for one more minute or so To see you leave with a smile upon your face. The bottle stared me down I smashed it upon a stone I almost cut through my arms To feel the pain and the blood trickle But I refrained and cried a little. You see I’m losing it all I’m incomplete Broken to the core Trying my utmost To turn it all around. My prayers go unheard They’re focused on her More so that God Will I be struck down? The answer to your question Is yes I’m unwilling And fear ridden. Make me a drink Grab me a lover Sentence me to life In their arms. I’m not the cause of all my problems She left me boiling in the summer sun Dry in the mouth Dry on the mind. I’ll commit to the life I’ve been given Just give me another drink From the fountain of my poison.

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Aug 22, 2016

Aug 22, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC

Fountain Of My Poison.

Forget me my darling As I try to resolve the situation My hands are shaking My mind is needy I hope to live for one more minute or so To see you leave with a smile upon your face. The bottle stared me down I smashed it upon a stone I almost cut through my arms To feel the pain and the blood trickle But I refrained and cried a little. You see I’m losing it all I’m incomplete Broken to the core Trying my utmost To turn it all around. My prayers go unheard They’re focused on her More so that God Will I be struck down? The answer to your question Is yes I’m unwilling And fear ridden. Make me a drink Grab me a lover Sentence me to life In their arms. I’m not the cause of all my problems She left me boiling in the summer sun Dry in the mouth Dry on the mind. I’ll commit to the life I’ve been given Just give me another drink From the fountain of my poison.

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