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May 2013 · 597
Express
Anthony McKee May 2013
when a train is coming
that isn’t
stopping you know
because the
station windows shudder
slightly
vibrating as if rain
hits them
but there isn’t any
a screaming
of brakes that strain
under
the weight of it
heaving
sighing shrieking as
it advances
no haste just speed
a horn
blares its final warning
passing
through at breakneck
speed
its engine churning
making
way to its terminus
wheels
crushing and bruising
the earth
below the moaning
pitches higher
a gust blows
over
******* the noise
dry


but, I missed that one.
May 2013 · 1.6k
Cemetery Sunday
Anthony McKee May 2013
A hush. A fanfare. It begins
As loved ones huddle close
To the marble hearth.
My grandmother’s eye streams
Bitter cold, she says. So is my granda’s
Gravestone – glinting charcoal, that rises
Through a sea of green. An archipelago
Of poinsettias. Words resonate
Off each little island, every city state
With its own legislature. Have you doused
That water on it yet? Have those roses
Seen the end of their days? Quiet, now
First glorious mystery: the resurrection
Of our Lord Jesus Christ. We power on
Standing firm. Forgiveness. Compassion.
Trust; the chant becomes louder
Closer, closer, we cry. I can see Pilate now
Washing his hands. Closer, closer – even louder
They need to make it through. It all depends on us
To light the way. Where are we? Third? Fourth?
Or even further? The beads shimmer as the frenzy
Grows, a pitch higher. Grant it, Lord
Through your mercy, and yours alone:
Bells toll and toll again, seeking the way
It’s time. Anytime now. With just a little push –
Silence. It is finished. A collective sigh
Done for another year. Did all we could
To save those souls; they’ll make it this time around
I’m sure of it. The crowd swells, swiveling the map
Of the yard, inspecting the atlas to no end.
We don’t stay long. Granny’s cold. She’s satisfied
She’s stood for pretty long.

My mate says we sleep till the time; I hope he’s right
I’d rather they rest than run, stay out of sight.
May 2013 · 627
3820kHz
Anthony McKee May 2013
A C H T U N G

  acht         neun         acht         sec­hs          vier          fünf           zwo
sechs          drei         eins          fünf        sieben          acht           null
   the         radio            spews             over          and          over         again
  void of      meaning.           or                 so                 they          want
   us to         think           as          the       concrete           wall
keeps       standing.        they         came           to        liberate us
which         they               did. of       thought of        speech
   of         word.             see             the        ashen         blocks sit
aren’t         they        pretty?           as         dark           red        blotches
stain          their           smooth       surfaces           like        lipstick on
wine       glasses.           an           old          fan          turns         slowly
    in a         dusty         room          just               south of
Leipzig.       men        dream of         hazy       Stalinist        façades
    as          she        brings a      cigarette to           her
rouged        lips. Belomorkanal.       the        rusted          olive        uniform
  pulls        tighter           as           she        draws in.        octaves
bellow        from           the       speakers. it is           time
    to         hear          from the     homeland.          how         sickles
gleam         for           the         Union          just like they
   did          for         Lenin. we         don’t           talk          about
   him         now         though.         sickles         don’t         gleam here
   like         they          ought to.          the          reels          revolve
unforgiving   to the cry           of a          winter’s
  night.         the           ruby          snow         glints            in         torchlight.
   the          night          goes on. it           has    to.
sieben        sechs          vier          zwo         neun           drei          sechs
  eins        sieben          null         sechs         acht           fünf          sieben

E N D   E
May 2013 · 759
Journeys
Anthony McKee May 2013
There are days where we meet up
To walk under cool crisp skies
Made up of indigoes, lilacs and light crimsons
Sunnier afternoons. Skimming to and fro
The slates of English Street. The plains of Sprucefield
Sprawling in front of us. Boulevards of Cookstown
That stretch far and wide, skirted with shops
Owned by unloved mannequins. We journey further
In our red Nissan Silvia, with the roll-down windows
With a pile of yellowed copies of the Beano in the back.
Mine, of course. I like to read. You taught me to.
Blur upon blur, we share whispers with each other
The alphabet, songs. I can count to ten, on my own. I did it once
In Marks & Spencer. Everyone was proud.
Taking our bag of tricks with us, we sup from place to place
Chicken nugget Happy Meals. Crumbs of a german biscuit.
Half of a sausage roll at the Trian. Twilight falls, the blurs
Become darker, curiouser. Soon I am home. The day is done.

There are other days where we meet up
Under a slightly greyer tinge. I laugh
I can’t change that, I tell you. The weather sometimes.
Less skimming, less journeying. Sometimes I’ll say
Remember that red Silvia? All the places we used to go?
But there’s no answer. The whispers have gone.
May 2013 · 961
Oxytocin
Anthony McKee May 2013
Is a chemical your body releases
When you hug someone for twenty seconds
Or more. It churns through the bloodstream, direct to the
Brain, as we hold to each other
Tightly, intertwined. You gain more trust
In the other person that way. Or so Wikipedia said.
I feel your hot breath sting below my cheek, the hairs
Prickle with something –
Something I wouldn’t want to disclose with you right now.

A dull roar from the pit of my stomach acknowledges itself:
‘Beastly, beastly’ I cry. I say it again. No one hears. I am left
In the shadows of my own dreams, dragged down by ribbons
That coil and recoil themselves around my ankles.
Just one more breath. Just one...

When we hug for twenty seconds or more
Is it released? Or is it something else?
Anthony McKee May 2013
I listened to our song today.

Amongst all the cadential points

Sustained pedal, ostinati in left hand

The upward leaps that waltzed passionately

Through the 12/8; trillando e poco rubato

I thought I saw you. But within a crescendo

You were gone. Just a trace

The senza tempo had moved on.
May 2013 · 2.0k
Forest
Anthony McKee May 2013
I shall go to the woods
One summer’s afternoon.
I shall go to hear the cuckoo cry
And listen to the jackdaw croon.

I shall go to seek shelter from the summer heat
Against the cool of the tree bark.
The mantra of old evergreen pines is heard:
Tales of Norse gods, and their lark.

I shall go to visit the heron
Who waits by the stream.
Patiently, she strides down the brook
Until she catches the small bream.

I shall do all these things
Missing the city, where I roam –
I shall go to the woods
And then, I shall go home.
May 2013 · 617
Contemplation
Anthony McKee May 2013
it starts as
a single
vibration
concert pitch
then
a semibreve.

crotchets
and quavers
the crescendo
builds
notes
scattered.

the bow
lurches;
allegro
e vivace
a melody
is heard.

sweet dulcet
tones
fill the air –
wafting,
singing,
passing us by.
May 2013 · 706
Tír Chonaill
Anthony McKee May 2013
Bells toll across glens
Calling barren lands to greet
Its Gospel, the Word.

Gunfire rumbles, a
Hungry scream echoes over
The waves, to Tory.

Wind howls. The windows,
Small, chatter: Níl aon tinteán
*Mar do thinteán féin.
May 2013 · 672
A Burial in December
Anthony McKee May 2013
The sullen clouds of grey cloak the coast
As the ice cold Cuan whispers upon the land.
I brought in the wreath. Coloured of a small tortoiseshell,
Looking unfamiliar amongst the sea-foam whites and glossy kelp
Greens. Made up of colours that had long since passed.
How we laughed! How this saved soul
Did not plan to take into our blood red wines
Our creamy, fleshy breads
Our cannibalisation.
Silence. Then we turn towards you
Immaculate, pure, in royal blue
Just like the Lady herself.
Peaceful, not a shudder, not a blink –
I remember, in less still times,
Your clouded eye. Misty, cyan,
Like a raging whirlpool on the Lough.
Sullen tones fill the room of an old stereo, bound by the Lord
Disturbing the peace, making the silence
Louder – between us. We decide we’ve had enough
We’ve spent too much time thinking our own thoughts
Each other's voices echoing discordantly, incessant.
We leave you on your horizontal throne
Your floral subjects surrounding you
A grip on your pendant of mysteries.
The door closes. A blurred cold glow emits into the wastelands
The frosted windows of your soulless palace.
for Kathleen
May 2013 · 590
Ghosts
Anthony McKee May 2013
They are found in
empty houses
sepia tinted photographs
dusty video cassettes.

They loiter around
graveyard Sunday masses
hospital waiting rooms
frequented shops.

They linger through
old songs
a poem or two
anniversaries.

They stand at
the foot of the bed
watching, waiting
for some company.
Sep 2012 · 907
Man on the 1711
Anthony McKee Sep 2012
He got on, I think, at the first stop
I hardly noticed him at first.
Another passenger, another journey
Another person trying to get on further in the world
But something caught my eye. Was it his looks?
Perhaps, he was handsome, yes
But the type of handsome in an antique
That must be handled and cared for in sterile fashion.

"Tickets please,"  belches the scratchy tannoy of the carriage
As a red faced man in a deep hue of navy bumbles along the aisle.
He presents him any papers on his person
And looks at me with a stupid grin
His old eyes of the deep trenches at sea, glisten
There’s still life in the old boy yet.
Impatience wins this round. His hands still fumble helplessly
Through the sheets; not frailed though, just tired.

Time passes, he daren't say a word
And looks outside, without a sound. Time doesn't worry him
It's treated him well. Or has it?
As he paws his ginger mane
The grey strands shine in the light
A paper sits unread, unloved beside him
Lights of distant towns blur past
As he stares, unflinching, into the distance.

Grunting and shrieking of rails let us know we're stopping
The muddy blue pools shimmer as he rises.
The blade from Cherryvalley assures us that yes,
Yes. This is Lisburn alright. Getting up, sniffing the air
Where nature is a predator, he heaves his dark blue tote bag
Over his shoulder with a grunt.
Roaming into the darkness of the late winter night
Climbing. Climbing. Gone.

I sometimes look into the windows of the 1802
at the lights; look at my reflection
Where is he now? Is he like a stray
a lone nocturnal animal, finding his way
Or did he give up? Did he finally reach his den?
And what will become of me? Time tells, I suppose
It always does. I ruffle my auburn hair
Oily, not greying. Scruff, not mane. Still tamed.
Jan 2012 · 1.4k
Arausio
Anthony McKee Jan 2012
Morpheus,
Asclepius,
et Sulis Minerva
Amen.*

A warmth cradles me to another world
Of peace, of paradise beyond man
Of innocence, of faith
Of judgement, of wrath.

I hold my limbs up high
As I caress with the rock hard slab
Scrubbing the sin away
The resilient dirt which must part.

The hairs quiver
Under the residue
The slimy depths of disgrace
That I shed; milky, cloudy, impure.

The beast howls within me
Convulsing as the tainted broth
Stains my eyes
Begging mercy, penance aflow.

At last! I am free
From the evils
That plague me all my days
Pray now, I should not return.
Jan 2012 · 1.2k
A Meadow
Anthony McKee Jan 2012
Sometimes I wonder
Whether I’m too gentle
Feeling your hot breath writhe over me
In a cloudless dream.
My bruises sting, my property lies smashed
Upon the poppies, their petals trembling,
Trundled on,
No more.

Your voice, clear as day
Carries across the synthetic pasture
The winds, though soft, distort it.
You sound far away, even though you’re further than before.
Wiping your brow, the sweat trickles down
The wonderful smile covers a frown
That both you and I know
Shadows of fear, shadows of death
That you try to overlook now.

Sometimes, in the harvest
Of luscious fruits and succulent crops
That we manifested ourselves
I feel you close, your hand in mine
The warmth of your smile glows, radiant

And then - the winds return
And your voice is lost, once again;
The poppy’s petal blows
And my face, it becomes cold.
Dec 2011 · 1.1k
Wandering
Anthony McKee Dec 2011
The bitter taste engulfs my mouth as I seal it shut
Running my finger along its ridges, its blood red mouth
Clasping half-heartedly. The past, gone with it. I frown,
Wondering, will the words ever meet your lips?
Not that I will ever know or hear them; it’s just a thought
An idea, me pondering. A wonder in itself.

I think of it now:
A rectangular bride to be;
Always close, but too far away
For one to love. We were preposterous really

Stuck in a childish fantasy - our eyes
Never mirrors. Never mixed equally.
But still we wandered blindingly into it all
Confidence aloof, affection confused,
Morals not withstanding, apply within.

Snow dusts the world outside as I call to slumber
The silence grows duller, a silence
That was filled of your thoughts once
What should fill it now? My own thoughts?

Or just prayer? Or perhaps I should leave it
Untainted, free from the obscene racket
The raucous laughter that we once shared
Wandering our own snow dusted worlds
Filling up our silences.

— The End —