Thomas Conlan

Thomas Conlan Aug 2017

Hands

Hands which cannot hold,
hold one purpose in life.
When we die, they will not comfort us,
will not sense our fear,
our anger,
our sadness.

They will simply be as they have always been.
We'll feel desperate to have them turn back,
to make some sort of change,
to reach out and hold our own;
but that will never be.

The hands of time,
they are not kind,
not compassionate.

When we die, and we all must go,
they will continue on,
ever so slow.

#death #dying #time #hands #clock #desperation #forgotten

Thomas Conlan Aug 2017

Trapped

Trapped inside this cranial ride,
I watch from eyes determined to hide.

From your lips,
your body,
your sensual touch,
I find the feelings are too much;

I shut myself in.

The sin of such a travesty is too much for me to take.
So I sit inside my skull and fake,
the only way that I know how;
I dance around your moves,
speak my lines, and bow.
I put on a play and perform perfectly
to distract from my abnormality.

These open eyes reveal lies of a cowardly man in disguise.
Who locks himself in his head alone to practice every ****** and moan.

#trapped #isolated #act #performance #sexuality #lgbt #asexual #asexuality #demisexuality #demisexual

Thomas Conlan Jan 2017

The Fall

The woeful moans of autumn show that love did leave us long ago.
Two souls defined by the kind of conceit
held together by passion's sweet summer heat.
Blossomed between each beautiful bloom,
they did nothing but consume;
until all that was left of the love that they lost
was frozen under winter's weary frost.
Blanketed under snow so white,
ready to start things over; to make things right.
The woeful moans of autumn show
that love did leave us
long ago.

#love #heartbreak #lost #fall #summer #winter #spring #seasons #autumn

Thomas Conlan Oct 2016

Your Monster

The fires of passion, they frighten me.
Beautifully blinding and I can’t see.
Forever a monster, I will be.
Your locked heart’s mangled key.

I was supposed to be the Adam to your Eve,
a creation of his labours;
a heart designed to be yours,
beating only in your favours.
Instead I am a vile insect,
a distant nightmare of hers.

But still this fire burns bright,
becoming my borrowed sense of fright.
Feelings bursting at first sight.
Burning away the safety of night.
And now I am exposed, under your light,
I am seen.

Not quite a man,
just a gruesome fiend,
who off of blood It was weaned.
A demon I have seemed,
in every thought I’ve dreamed.

Yet here you are,
without my mask, you’ve not screamed.
Perhaps at least,
with all your beauty I’m not this beast.
Even the Devil’s heart’s not ceased.
A fire in my soul that is ready to be released.

#fear #fire #passion #nightmare #monster #acceptance #horror #frankenstein

Thomas Conlan Oct 2016

Haunted

I hear her heart haunting these halls.
Roaming throughout, she echoes moans of mediocrity.
Portraits painted over, but I still seem to see her smile seep through.
Wails like whispers in my ears;

“I don’t think this is working, I’m seeing someone else.”

Daggers digging down to drive out these demons.
A rush of red comes to the surface; drowns out the quiet.
Scar these halls with scarlet.
Blare out her broken beat.

#love #heartbreak #self #harm #lost #ghost #haunting #haunted

Thomas Conlan Mar 2016

Common Misconceptions of the Common Man

Feminism is useless, I believe in equality;*
a common misconception from a common man’s philosophy.
A point of view so skewed, that it’s more than a little faulty.

Feminists hate all men it seems, and then they cry for acceptance.
A group so dedicated to vengeance that they’d rather practice independence;
a common misconception from a common man’s reluctance.
A preference to see the worst in human beings
rather than agreeing for humanity’s well-being.

Feminism is a club that I’m not invited to.
Where all they do is whine and complain about women’s issues;
A common misconception from a common man’s miscues.
As feminism is not a place that can deny a person of any gender or race.
It’s a frame of mind that you will find humanity at it’s base.

Now in life these words, they will not rhyme,
but I guarantee you’ll hear them said from time to time.

Feminism isn’t about what is or is not on your chest.
It’s about empowering those whose lives are oppressed.
“Don’t cry, you’re a man”, “don’t be such a *****”,
These falsities we all hear are but a locked door;
Where understanding is the key
To truly living in equality.

I started this poem months ago, but finished it today for International Women's Day

#love #peace #gender #stereotypes #equality #feminism #men #women #understanding

Thomas Conlan Mar 2016

The Theodicy of Man

This heart beats a miserable mythos
Daring death to bleed from my pried pithos
And you can still feel her aura
When the all-giving Pandora
Pulled out my chest and asked
How much of man is masked
Passed her teary eyed mist
She found this box with a list

Sand, clean, prep, and paint
This home with no complaint
Take care to love each other
Both your brothers and your mother
I am alone, so alone
In this prison of a home
Leave this layer to never dry
Just listen to my goodbye
Don’t look for blame
From an open flame
Left beside this pound of paint
Hoping to incinerate this taint
This is the end
For me my friend
Respect my choice
And please rejoice
Life is a wonderful adventure
Some, missing that sweet splendor
A burning ready for the blow
To put me out, to let me go

Despite all the talks, all the locks
She’s opened up Pandora’s Box
And let his evils out
Fear, shame, sorrow, and doubt
Their freedom found, they’re unconfined
Exposed a weakened man’s mind
No sun should have to see this depravity
Hidden captive in his heart’s dark cavity

#suicide #depression #sadness #death #solitude #loneliness #letter #greek #box #pandoras