Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
AS GAEILGE
( In Irish )

Dún do shúile
(Close your eyes)                

Codail go lá...mo ghrá séimh.
(Sleep until day...my gentle love) .

Codail go sámh go sámh.
(Sleep peacefully...peacefully) .

Éirdeoidh an ghealach seo...
...is rachaidh an ghrian seo faoi

(This moon will rise...
...this sun will set)                

aire 'gus grá
i gconaí
(care and love always)                

gach oíche 's gach lá
gach lá 's gach oíche.
(every night every day
every day ever night) .

Mo phlúirín!
Mo stóirín!
Mo mhuirnín!
(My little flower!
My little treasure!
My little darling!)                

Ach anois...
(But now...)                

codail go sámh go séimh
(sleep peacefully...gently)                

go fáinne an lae
(until the break of day)                

le mise
ar do taobh.
(with me
by your side) .

Losing our baby
late into the night

holding this    little thing
that only attempted to be human

unable to let go

I clasped the foetus
tightly in my hand

& buried it in the dawn
of our local park

under a recently planted
red rose bush.

In my grief
flower & baby
became one

and night after night I climbed
over high railings & even higher stars

to talk to her in the dark      in Irish.

Or sing: My Love is like a Red Red Rose.

Or cry...or...cry.

Almost got arrested one night
by an Irish cop
drawn to the sound
of Irish emerging from darkness.

Guess he let me go because -  it wouldn’t look good
on a charge sheet:

“The defendant was talking
& crying to...a flower.”

- in Irish.

Eist...eist
(listen...listen)      

duinne eagin ag caoineadh
(someone is crying)      

in a dorchasan
(in his darkness) .

Fill...fill...a run o!

Fill a run o is  na imigh uaim.

Fill orm a chuisle a stor

agus chifeadh tu an gloire... ma fhillean tu!
what can't come out on canvas
comes out of my wrist
strokes of black and streaks of red
help control my silent fits
I pound the wall with my fist
blood trickles from my hips
but it's ok
I'm used to this

I blend paint with pain
brush with blade
only difference is,
pain fades paint stays
click, click, click*
Typing away letters in the dark
One for mom who never really saw
One for dad who was never there at all

click, click, click
Writing letters in the dark
One for my sister who ran away
One for my brother who had no choice to stay

click, click, click
Letters in the dark
Dripped with blood
Coated in tears
Letters in the dark
 Dec 2014 fiachra breac
Joe Cole
What is it about Christmas that brings out worst and the best and in people?
I have to have the biggest and best dressed tree
The presents I give cost a fortune
In fact  I'll probably still be paying this time next year
Throwing a big party again, inviting people of influence
Even though I hardly know them
Christmas morning and egg nog for all the neighbors
I don't even like most of them
But I have a position to maintain
Jim down the road now he's real white trash
Shabby unpainted house and unkempt yard
BUT
The cheap cards he sends are sent with love
Sure he'll invite a few friend round on Christmas eve
Share a few cheap beers, maybe a pizza
Real and true friends who don't expect  much
Sure his kids will get presents, nothing fancy but paid for with hard cash
No egg nog for him on Christmas morning
Just a family gathering giving thanks for what they have
Who do you admire the most?
When I say I I don't literally mean me, I'm speaking as the third person
I just need to take the last step
And I won't fall
I'll be suspended
As my soul
Stops being so confined
By this body
And I'm

       F         r         e         e  . . .
My only accomplishment in life
has been poetry.
Thank you for reading it.
Next page