This is where Morse
And Louis Braille met
On the Rive Gauche.
It was the venue for
The first wet tee shirt
Competition attended
By Brigitte in the flesh.

Light always appears
At both ends of a tunnel
Unfortunately rarefaction
Never permits the twain
To meet therefore it is
Only trains give a hoot

The sole purpose of
Socialism, is sharing
The pain Capitalism
Is still manufacturing.

Khan
Can
Not
Open
Page,
Lines
Tangled.
~~~~~~
Will
Is
Going
To
Try
Again
Later.

If I had a rope
It’s to the forest
I would be.

I would find me a
Low branch of a
Weeping willow tree.

Why hast and thou
Fallen into such
A suspended state,

‘Twas no coincidence
Hath brought me here
Not imp nor Leprechaun
But fate!

I will loose my noose
And cast on high to
Catch a neighbouring fir.

I will hoist you from your
Watery grave and pull you
Back, to the way that you,
And hopefully me, once were.

The light has not arrived
Today, cumulus congestus
Is sky anchored over Kerry.

Its umbilical is siphoning
From the tidal fury at the
Bay of ****** Peninsula

Gael force coastal warnings
For west Cork especially on
The Wild Atlantic Way.

Dun an dorais lig do schin
Ol’ an cupain te agus insan,
Uisce beatha cois na tine

Nil aon tinteann
Mar do thinteann fein
Go ndeiri an Bohair leatsa

There are six squares
On my window, through
Which I witness the world.

Sometimes they are fogged
Or frosted, occasionally they
Weep from inside, and out.

I can see fear and grief,
Anxiety and loneliness,
The hurt of love and anger.

No matter how often I try
To wipe it all away, it is futile,
I end up drawing the curtains.

Light into darkness, sound into
Silence, memories into reality,
Nocturnal thoughts propagate!

On the brow
       of water
   there are few,
   if any ripples
         from its
    depth of pain

Water, transparent as
it be, still occasionally
decides to disappear.

It is called evaporation,
but that is the scientific
terminology for mystery.

H2O can also solidify
at -0* centigrade, that is
called ice, a conundrum.

Tears are stored behind
eyelids for happy or sad
occasions that’s an enigma!

Find a tree pluck plums
and gift the conserves.

It is the end product and
sole purpose of a poem.

Sourcing words for ideas
composing then sending.

No shelf full of preserved
fruit with elasticated seals.

Some of us can bake bread,
not everyone can make jam!

The buffer zone is where old
tired trains go after spending
a lifetime between the tracks.

To escape the momentum of
my mind the siding is where I
go to write between the lines.

After January 6th
In Ireland, the days
  get longer by the
length of a **** step.

A hares breath and a
horses nose has notin
to do with daylight hours.

Darkness is different
because that is brought
to you by Guinness.

We can never depend on
On the aurora borealis if
cloud factories are doing
shift work to blight the Brits.

Where west each wind is born
mischievous Gael’s with pots
if vapoured broth, disperse its
brew and laced with ancient
potion’s concoct a drape to
cloak the Saxon horde.

.                    a
While I’m W-iting
                     r

No matter which it
is it makes little, or
even no difference
to what I am about
to concoct mentally.

I say that, because
right now I am at a
dental surgery but
no appointment in
a queue and no pen.

It means this poem
is being memorised
as I wait to write just
as soon as I can nick
a biro from reception.

It must mean terra
perma firma where
the frost hibernates.

It’s an anomaly because
ground zero in New York
was a combustible furness!

Now is never good
enough for our clock
tower chronometers

Some are so wound up
coil sprung can’t wait
to pass the time

They even race against it,
overtaking each other
at frequent intervals

Tempus Fugit versus
Carpe Diem is a two handed
church steeple-chase

Plomb on the pendulum
is as much as any Sexton
can do, to weight a second.



Ps
Plomb is Latin for lead
As in plumbing etc
Poetic license is necessary
On occasion

Does the bird fear
The wind will blow
The tree and shake
The branch and
Knock the nest and
Break its contents?

Does the cuckoo
Fear that the nest
It squats, to lay it’s
Egg will be off the
Branch not on a tree
and on the ground?

Does the wind fear
It might blow too
Hard and break a
Branch that falls
Upon the cuckoo’s
Nest & break the egg?

Does the tree fear
The branch of the
Birds nest will break
Before the cuckoo’s
Egg is laid and all the
Others are chucked?

Scent
Degrade

Cold feet
Pixie hat
Freeze bite
Van life
Ice scraper
Cold as a
Dogs nose
And stiff
With the
Rheumatism
Of nights
Inactivity
Beneath
This frosted
Stratosphere
A liquid silence

AibohphobiA

NavaN CiviC NuN
DeifieD BiB MadaM AnnA
RadaR RefeR Mom

Wilde said he had nothing
to declare but his wit

I have nothing to share but
ambiguous altruistic poetry

Two people appeared
at a crossroads’s both
having taken shortcuts.

They were perplexed
predestination right
or free will to the left.

Off they went, as they
had arrived, in separate
directions again, but

not realising, each had
taken the choice from
whence the other came.

Shamsud Din Jabbar Al Akbar
Drove a truck but never a car
He sold hot dogs and choc isis
With Middle Eastern spices
And some mung beans from home in a jar

I am running out of
words, plenty lines
and pages, but my
well of wisdom has
been depleted, dry.

Divining for a new
source is futile, all
explorations to date
have been in vain, my
head is on the block.

Yeats never did
get to build his
adobe hut on
the lake isle

He ended up
in Nice
near the church
of Matisse

Exhumed at
Menton
presumed
to Benbulben


Ps

I always thought a
great injustice was
done by not putting
him on that tiny isle
in Innisfree, but perhaps
he was a victim of his
own epitaph, there is
no where for a horse
to pass by.

Gael Force


Silver lining
porous

Morse roof
taps

Braille drops
on head

auld acquaintance
reigns.




2024 to 5
Quoi de neuf ?

Back in Ireland
again

Braille drops keep
falling on our heads

Morse tapping on the
roof, a deluge swishes

against the tyres, Irish
auld acquaintance reigns.


31 December 2024
Lismore Waterford
Ireland in camper van.

He lived at zero degrees
latitude yet he yearned for
the arctic, but being stuck
in the middle between a
Berg and a cold place he
always thought of Hobson
and never made the choice.

Dr Bob changed the subject
when I asked him about youth
in Asia, but, then, he wasn’t
aware that I was a dyslexsick.

Captive audience
abscond during curtain call
lone limelight encore

I can’t hide from my
memory even in sleep

Dreams are days
Revisited

And nightmares are
untethered tinkers

Horses belonging to
The O’Driscoll Clan

And you daren’t say
a word about them

Or they’d kick seven
kinds of ***** out of ya.

.   Onomatopoeia echoes
        cuckoos copycat
    cicadas and crickets
  shift work back to back
mime rhyme mock mimic
  bark to bark tree to tree
      diurnal nocturnal
  morn to dark and back
                 to an
orchestrated dawn chorus

I can escape the darkness
with light
I can escape the loneliness
with company
I can escape the nightmares
with insomnia
I can escape the suffering
with alcohol
I can escape the addiction
with suicide
I can escape the ending
with a new beginning
I can escape the past with
a present from the future
I can escape 2024 by
fight and flight at midnight

There are only three
dates we remember.

Fools day our birthday
and New Year’s Day.

My sister was born on
the latter, back in 1963.

In Ireland if ‘twas a boy
or a child John or Jackie.

There was a lot of (Pope)
John’s too and John Paul’s.

I only ever met one Elvis
In my entire time in Ireland.

Speaking of anniversary’s,
we all recall the kings death.

And even though it was this
year, my sisters is forgotten.

But unlike the Memphis boy
she had a wooden heart!

Albeit the road less
traveled is the path
I found, what of it.

But for choosing the
wrong direction and
meeting a lost soul
such as I, my destin
would have been the
provenance she fled.

Now we are midway
between nowhere
and somewhere.

When I wake, I am
surrounded by mind
mischief telling me
how futile my life
is and it’s true, my
existence is a misery.

But I have to accept
the things I cannot change.

When Heaney was
asked, “what does it
take to be a great poet”
he responded, PAIN.

According to the diagnosis
there was no magic pill or
potion for his discomfort,
the prognosis was just write.

I was recently asked,
“why are you such a prolific poet”

It is because Bob is my doctor too.


                       <>

Ryan O'Leary
166 followers / 131.7k words
Poems
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But there is no sanctuary
From western sanctions.

Such an ambiguous word
Having opposed meanings.

It can approve or disapprove
Pending on its pronunciation.

When the sanctimonious are
Out of inner sanctum’s, doom.

Yet donkeys get sanctified in
The sanctuaries of Ireland.

Benjamin Netanyahu
  Has been taken to
  Hospital in Tel Aviv.
  Rumour has it that
  He is toast, Hamas
   Sent a card saying
   “Get Butter Soon”.

New years resolution
  No more small talk
No more abbreviations
     No more emojis
    No more Tik Tok
  No more instagram
  No more facebook

      (‘< Duck Off <‘)

Down, without the S,
syndrome, is common,
especially at year end.

Christmas is not toll
free for anyone, it’s a
bridge we must cross.

When darkness comes,
chameleons of daylight,
gate crash our serenities.

Everything passes though
painfully slow, but all of
nature shares the anxiety.

Persevere pain, best wine
comes from vines which
grow on inclement ground.

Best vintages are stored
in dark cellars, improving
is a process, just you wait.

New Years Absolution

Anyone over the age of
sixty still believing they
can control their future
need to rethink the title.

There’s little difference
between Alzheimer’s
Amnesia self deception
and the lack of willpower.

Absentmindedness gets
us all in the early days of
our campaign to beat the
Ego, just try to fail better.

If your thought for
today is the same as
yesterday it is likely
tomorrow will be no
different this means
a state of constancy
which is permanency
hence the monotony
of a persistent present
that is in no way a gift
because it’s always now.

Denying the Palestinian
Holocaust is anti semitic

Spring Mount Dairy
and Wallace’s Buns
is what I recall about
primary school days.

Marts and markets,
bust on a pedestal
in O’Brien Street,
(and) the ESB pylon.

Kevin Ger McCourt
decided on Tuesdays
who’d be better off,
drinking, than driving.

Conveniently, first day
of all all our sentences
began next door before
the angelus, at Albert’s.




Ps

Albert Lynch’s pub
In Mallow Ireland
Is next door to the
Courthouse where
Kevin Ger McCourt
(A gentleman judge)
Did the best he could
To keep us out of harm.

Re writing a lost poem
is like assembling a jig
saw puzzle without the
box image as a template.

It is even worse, in some
Instances it’s no different
than putting it together
from the rear elevation.

All the pieces are there
but the sequence of events
has been totally erased
from one’s consciousness.

There are no corners from
where to commence, there’s
no sea scape, birds, no blue
sky just cloud and mental fog.

M 25 fog mist dew
Light bulb halos
Dimmed vision view

Slow down slow down
A warning flashing
Wipers rowing window washing

Horns blowing sirens bleating
Ambulance and brigades
Meeting

Pile up bus a truck and trailer
Delays relays
On loud hailer

Camper van coffee
2 pounds a cup
Awaiting crane to lift bus up

Every cloud
Has a silver lining
Canopy Al-Fresco dining

Roll up roll up
We’ve a W.C
Prostate people need to ***

We’ve also got toast
And it’s haut de gamme
We have Kerrygold and traffic jam.

I was born on a
Dyslexic island

Palindromicks
We’re known as

Bee loud glade
Solidarity people

An elegy on every
Headstone

Dark Rosaleen do
Not cry nor weep

No graves are deep
Enough for thought

If fear is the opposite
to faith does it mean
atheists are fatalistic?

Does face your fears
mean to give them an
identity, as in mirror?

Is nocturnal or diurnal
fear worse and do you
think they are related?

Does feel the fear but
do it anyway actually
help one with shyness?

Does those who knows
nothing fears nothing
mean Mensa's are sicko's?

Does I ink, therefore,
I AM BIC™ pentameter
mean a Prosody for stress?

According to
propagandar
  (‘<
Kitty,
Kim’s
Korean
Kat is a
Kami kaze
Kamouflaged
In Kursk
Kalashnikov
KKK
Kunte
Kinte
Kemo
Kebab
Kat *** trophy

I would never read
or indeed write a
rhyming poem about
depression because
iambic pentameter
is a composition of
unstressed and some
stressed syllables
which hints to me of
partial schizophrenia
bipolar or even autism
and I know everyone
knows that I only got
dissociative identity
syndrome, insomnia,
paranoia and tinnitus.

\                   G                R               E                E                N
R\
E \              W               H                I                T                 E
D /
  /                  B                L                A            ­   C                 K
/

A triangle points at Tel-
Aviv on the flag of Gaza.
Blood on blotting paper,
accusations in the wind.
A history in semaphore
of the Judaist Genocide.
Nakba 48 to Netenyahu
& his Holocaust of now.
Oh evil Gew how hated
thou hast been in history.
And how fitting a mascot
for you, INRI be, a nailed
up looser amongst thieves
abandoned by your God,
but not for the first time nor
be it the last instance neither.