in soft hours when your heart’s
awake dreaming
and you feel a soft whisper
gently tracing
your skin, your spine to your soul
that’s me loving
you

seems there may be some connection
some call it a trigger.


some things leave us cold and wondering

If life were
   understood
   completely
   we'd have nothing
   more to live for  
   being stultified
   and empty
   all wonder
   would have died

   no more teaching
   nor writing
   there's no need
   for reading or inventing
   superfluous is every thinking

   the morphing
   of  the intellect
   creativity in waning
   the self in annihilating
   and the dehumanising
   of every human undertaking

do you know the weight of it?
clawing your way up
test after test,
year after year,
to be the perfect reflection of the dreams they have for you,
those that are now your own.
where your worth now hangs.

when they see the prize,
they say, 'oh it comes so easily to her'

Easily?

i bled for this.
i screamt for this.
and my mind?
it whispers
'this is just what you're supposed to do'
you are 'gifted'
its your mere responsibility.
nothing to celebrate. nothing special.

isnt it?

It's futile -wisdom
   without freedom
   begin with the latter
   it will create the former

It was on October 19th
in 1953 Dylan Thomas
took to the stage at city
college NYC. An usher
asked if he could take
his coat, the poet said
no, adding that it was
many the good bottle
got lost because of that.

Today, sixty two years
later at The Marina Hall
Cork City close to where
I am performing singing
reciting and busking I had
occasion to avail of the
disabled WC where I was
to discover no toilet paper.
Many a sock* I lost over this.




The Proscribed Poet
8th March 2025
Reciting at The Marina
Cork City Ireland.