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donall-dempseyPoems
ALL THE WAY FROM 1967 I can still hear myself crying all the way from 1967 when I was 9. The crying has never stopped echoing through all the ages I've ever been. You: had died and I had asked God to give you back. When that didn't work. I asked for a swap. I tried to put it as simply as I could so that even a God could understand. "Take me - instead..." I said to God as if talking to some foreigner in a too loud voice as if that would.... "..put her back!" He didn't. I had the feeling that He couldn't. "Some God you are!" I howled in disbelief. I went out in the Curragh Plains and wept. And wept. So that only a few hundred sheep and some scattered clouds could hear. The clouds were only here for the day. The sheep lived only for the moment. Almost 5,000 acres could not contain my grief. The Curragh blazed yellow with furze. The world was as beautiful as it could ever be. But not for me. I keep trying to go back to the me of then take him in my arms give him the comfort I never had but like God ...I can't. I can still hear his forever crying this 9 year old boy who I always am crying all the way from 1967.
0
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
ALL THE WAY FROM 1967
ALL THE WAY FROM 1967 I can still hear myself crying all the way from 1967 when I was 9. The crying has never stopped echoing through all the ages I've ever been. You: had died and I had asked God to give you back. When that didn't work. I asked for a swap. I tried to put it as simply as I could so that even a God could understand. "Take me - instead..." I said to God as if talking to some foreigner in a too loud voice as if that would.... "..put her back!" He didn't. I had the feeling that He couldn't. "Some God you are!" I howled in disbelief. I went out in the Curragh Plains and wept. And wept. So that only a few hundred sheep and some scattered clouds could hear. The clouds were only here for the day. The sheep lived only for the moment. Almost 5,000 acres could not contain my grief. The Curragh blazed yellow with furze. The world was as beautiful as it could ever be. But not for me. I keep trying to go back to the me of then take him in my arms give him the comfort I never had but like God ...I can't. I can still hear his forever crying this 9 year old boy who I always am crying all the way from 1967.
donall-dempsey
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donall-dempsey
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
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