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Peter Cullen Dec 2018
This world is full of angels
full of devils in disguise.
Like gargoyles faces on the wall,
blending in before our eyes.
The Christmas traffic,
shuffling past...
Young ones clutch their oul ones hands.
Oblivious, to the worlds strange ways.
Lost angels in a broken land.
And the poor ****** on the corner sings,
about a policeman from New York.
A song probably older than his mother
I'm hoping they still have each other.
I'm hoping that his words fall easy.
Gently,
upon her ears.
Cause he's looking kinda lonely now,
Maybe no ones listening!
Peter Cullen Jan 2018
Four tired feet, resting at last.
The old work shoes,
thankfully cast.
Beside the couch,
where now they rest.
A weary head upon her breast.

Silence,
sharing,
just their breathing.
Two souls swimming,
two souls dreaming.
Like a Buddha
neath a willow.
Each ones heart
just like a pillow.

And as each breath
rises and falls.
Candle wax spills on the wall.
  Seconds...
minutes...
fade away.
Tomorrow is another day.
Peter Cullen Dec 2017
She told him..
"We're all Stardust!
" That's what we are
all made of!
She told him...
"never worry"......
.......
"Worry
  always
     proceeds the fall."

She led him through the chambers.
The hidden places lost within.
Where she tries to find herself,
where she always dreams of him.

Sometimes...,  
only nightmares.
Past horrors
mixed with yesterday.
Sometimes,
love and wonder.
The feeling,
that all is OK.

The lonely streets of Dublin.
The fear of sleeping all alone.
She would wonders
if he's happy now.
She wonders if he's
on his own.
Peter Cullen Jun 2017
Sitting by her empty pond,
A thousand thoughts
lost to the wind.
She wonders where it all began,
she wonders,
will it ever end.

An empty teapot on the table,
She wonders,
is she really able.
Everything that was, once was.
Now she's haunted by
Because.

Because
she sees,
a different future.
A place to hide
and ancient furniture.
Covered in a dust
that lies.
The sorrow lost behind her eyes.
Peter Cullen Apr 2017
Chapters.
Each one,
with their place in time.
The way things can be turbulent.
Then with time,
they end up fine.
The way we seem to carry on.
A different chapter,
different song.
How many chapters
have we left?
Before we know
that we're not wrong.
Peter Cullen Dec 2016
There was an old soul
named Sweet Mary Jane.
And a fire forever,
so deep engraved.
Scorching to touch,
the love thats too much.
Sometimes cools,
but never enough.

There was a White lady,
forever in need.
Upon the white lines...
"please reduce the speed."
Reducing the need
to veer off the road.
"Remember the promise,
you made to your soul."
Peter Cullen Oct 2016
The pyramids inside those dreams.
Rays of light reached to the sky.
The constellations all stood still,
As she kindly whispered why!
"All the devastation,
all the endless cause of pain.
It's sown into the fabric,
the karmic light that we obtain.
Written by our own sweet souls,
so many moons ago.
It's everything that we must be,
and all we'll ever need to know".
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