This is my street
An old street,
In an old Irish town
The people come
And then they go
In the soft rain
Of a short Irish summer

When the mood is on me
I let my feet walk
And they always
Seem to bring me here
The cafe at the end of the street
And sure,
Where else would they go?

Many is a time
I had a hearty steak sandwich
Or fishcakes with potatos
Or just a coffee and scuffin
To beat the cold outside
And it's many the friend
I found in there
Aye, and lovers too.

It's face is green and black
Milanese style
So the owners tell me
With a striped green and white awning
And simple tables and chairs
And all the love in the world

Music has been had there
And poetry, and just craic
Long Scrabble saturdays
Taken very seriously
We even bought the dictionary
To stop the heated
Word exchanges

So I know most of the people
There is always a smile
Headed in my direction
When I am blue
It brings me to life
Somewhat
And needless to say
The food is always good

It is funny, how
Friends and family
Merge sometimes
As happens
In the cafe at the end of the street
Where friends are family
And family are friends

They told me
They are closing in September
A loss like a family bereavement
I can only hope that
I find another place to go
Or maybe a new street to live on
Where I can
Walk out my door, and feel
Home

Every morning
As the Alarm clock
Slowly brings
The classical music Station on
And I wake from
Vivid dreams
Of places I have never been
Nor seen

I drink my coffee and await
My daily dispensation
My script
My Medication
To help fight my Illnesses
Allegedly at least
That's what the medical
People say
And I never argue
I don't know how

But the walk
The walk to the chemists
It humiliates me
Makes me feel like a criminal
Or a ****** in need of a fix
A poacher in search of a doe
The walk in rain and shine
It lessens me
Step by step
Until I recieve
My daily dispensation

And I walk those same steps back
On old, old streets, with people
In early morning fluster
Creating a new day
While mine as a hopless case
is ending
In a roundabout way
And I bring my daily dispensation
Home, and what happens then?

All I know is that my hands stop
Shivering
And I am able to stand up
And feel as a living person
Every day,
It is a tiresome thing
Had I known
Such pain was possible
I should think
I would have stayed in
The womb

Where, when
How.........
Do I regain
Consolation
Fom this
Hurting

The answers
Will not
Come
I know

And when
I am consoled
I will reread this
Poem
And remember

In a quiet gully
In a shy valley
I eek out my life

Hour by hour
Washing with words
The pain I feel

Like an iodined cut
Across my throat

My eyes feel heavy,
And worried with sadness
Misted over

Scanning the patterns
In some old
Wallpapered room
Boxed full
Of empty memories
That I have built
For myself

As a haven for grief

I entered my poem "last night I dreamed" in the Tallenge poetry competition for May 2014, which it won, it's now in the annual competition so I'd really appreciate your support by voting for it at -  bit.ly/1pJ0N3z

You can find the poem down the line in my list of poems, but I'll paste it here again so you can check it out to see if it's worth a vote.

Last Night I dreamt
Of the Hagia Sophia.
Looking across
mighty Bosphorous.
In Istanbul, in Byzantium,
in Constantinople.
A prize of ages...........
In all her many's
real and imagined glory.
Man's desire,
God's gift.
Stone's testament
To my species' faith,
In eternity.

Though this Hagia,
My Sophia,
was one of my dreams
In a dream-city/state.
In a dream Macedon/Thrace,
Modern and ancient
Asian/Europe, European-Asia,
Turk and Greek
Jew and Russian
Balkan stars fall upon her'
Coloured light's
and bright vid-screens.
Amid stone and earth
Glass and concrete,
Granite and amythst

Huge, jewel-covered,
ancient beyond measure....
Not just Constantine's church,
though mighty church it was..
Or Mehmet's prize;
though great Mosque it became
Nor Theodosius's rock
Though he still fights for her
Somewhere in the past.
And no dry museum either,
Though museum she is..........
In reality.

Just an ancient place,
Euxine harbour
Cross-road of man and water,
Land and Gods
Magic and reality
Chozen by Hellas
Built and owned
by Christ's children
Subjects of St. Paul's
Holy empire.
Orthodox and sacred
To Greek and Rus.
No Latin hymns
We're sung in her walls.

Then won by Turk
In wars fierce and long -
So now Muhammed's shrine
Ottoman and Pasha
Jewel of a new kingdom
Built upon built
Myriad upon myriad
Pagan, Muslim, Jew, and Christian
And the Gods of Hellas
who dwell there still
Watch and wonder
at it all

But in my dream
She was made -
in the shape of a grassy mound
Many faceted, growing still
Amid structures, attached to her
spans and arches
Ancient wonder
Modern glory
Flowing and rising
Worshipped by all who
dwelt near her.
Grassed covered
Monument strewn
Stretching up to the dark -
Starry Sky
Arches
Domes
Butress'
Spires
Crosses
Cresents
Heart's desire
White rocks paved
And eternal grasses
Dewed by Hellene Gods
Whose light it saved

Last night I dreamed
Of the Hagia Sophia.......

The words form in my mind
But I cannot commit them
To pen or paper
The tears well in my eyes
But I cannot wipe them
With soft napkins
The hurt settles in,
like an old friend
On my couch
I am bereft of clever ways
to express how I am
Or to mingle phrases
To express my sorrow
I am silenced by this
Pain

The pain that churns
In your gut
And chokes the life
From your throat
I walk the street
But my feet cannot
Feel the cracks
Nor the wetness of
The rained-on brick
Through my tired
Old shoes

I  am lost for now
Seeking solace in
The sunshine
And raindrops on
Window panes
Trying to forget
Longing to remember
The times we had
When I held you
In the sea
When we climbed the
Rocks
Together

Now is all there is
Like a guttering candle
It is flickering
In and out
And my mind wanders
Following the weak flame
As it hovers between
Light and darkness
Another day shall come
And I shall be some other me
Forgetful of this pain
So I write it down
For it is the doom of men
That they forget.

My heart is raw with hurt
You don't know what you've done
Deep within me, something died
The day you stopped listening
And I became an encumbrance
Instead of a lifeline

I will endure, I have no choice
But I shall not be the same
You touched something
Deep within I thought was dead
But was waiting for you
And now, now?
What am I to do

My silly, funny, beautiful girl
You have stolen my grief
You have clarified my pain
To a needle point
Which I feel, nerved inside

But we take our chances
And I chose you
So I only have myself to blame
And I curse in despair
For having loved for loves' sake
As all fools do, including I.