O stony grey soil of Monaghan

The laugh from my love you thieved;

You took the gay child of my passion

And gave me your clod-conceived.



You clogged the feet of my boyhood

And I believed that my stumble

Had the poise and stride of Apollo

And his voice my thick tongued mumble.



You told me the plough was immortal!

O green-life conquering plough!

The mandril stained, your coulter blunted

In the smooth lea-field of my brow.



You sang on steaming dunghills

A song of cowards' brood,

You perfumed my clothes with weasel itch,

You fed me on swinish food



You flung a ditch on my vision

Of beauty, love and truth.

O stony grey soil of Monaghan

You burgled my bank of youth!



Lost the long hours of pleasure

All the women that love young men.

O can I stilll stroke the monster's back

Or write with unpoisoned pen.



His name in these lonely verses

Or mention the dark fields where

The first gay flight of my lyric

Got caught in a peasant's prayer.



Mullahinsa, Drummeril, Black Shanco-

Wherever I turn I see

In the stony grey soil of Monaghan

Dead loves that were born for me.

I need to write I need 
To write I
Need to write

Right right
Know
No, I dont need to

It like there's buzzing in my hands
Its like there's buzzing in my body
Like my head's rocking backwads and forewards


I see the open window 
And I want to hang out of it
With my weight on my hips
Just like.
Rocking rocking
And. Air

I always need it now
And the way the letters look when I type
Just fast enough
Like theres movement
Like i'm busy
When i'm only sitting down

Its like the colours have gone inverse around my eyes

Like negative colours swirling
Framing everything i see
Like its a tunnnel

But i'm not moving through it because the end is big and clear
And im already there

I can't have faith that's it
(But there is no certainty though in those words i just spoke)
How many times i've wished i might be
That squirrel up in a tree
Free free free free
But he'll never go far

I tried to make art yesterday
I found paper, tape, pens and magazine
A cocktail stick

It looked like *******
I crumpled the paper with oil pastelled hands
I stabbed a cocktail stick through the lines
Wound the tape, wound the tape.

I poured my tea over it
Poured the tea
And it bled red 
From the marks of a red pen 

But no now is today
Nonoooo  why did I go back?
Now is shaking.
Flies on the glass,
But they ruin the dream
But they made a new one
But they never knew. 

Sofa sofa and cardboard boxes
Like im in a coat again

Where am I going
I'm not there yet 
I want to fly
I was scared to admit it before
Or I wasnt sure
But i'd like to fly
Fly fly

Shaking legs
My eyes aren't right not right
My eyes are dragging too much
Its like the weight's on the bottom
Like a hammock but no swinging noo

Why are there sparkles on the floor?
Who thought of the teapot plant *** outside?
I can see it coz it's white
Everything else is black
But the giant teapot is white there
 in the night garden out of the window
Who thought of it?
Who designed it?
How was it made?
Where are they now?
I hope they stilll make things

Never stop making
I'd like to be someone who never stops making
And creating
But i'd like to be someone who starts making

Spiders think they own their house,
Coz they built their web
On these walls we built
And this house that we made

Hahaha
Haha
Hahhhhh

But we built our house on somebody's floor, 
(Or someone's wall
Whatever direction they walk in?)

And we built this town on somebody's floor

But I didnt build it
No

Labels
White sticky labels
Only found them again when I no  longer needed them

Lets all just live in the world okay
Or even no
Live where you like

2 rules:
Be kind.
Make people happy,
In the very least
Try.

But I dont make the rules
Nononono
Forget the rules
I can't make rules
I can't close it
No closing
Everything just be
Everything
Spill over
Spill over

Open.

1.)   make him coffee everyday and know exactly how he likes it

2.)   have a playlist of songs solely that relate to him (listen to it everyday)

3.)   know things about him that he doesn’t even know himself

4.)   pretend to sleep while he’s over (actually fall asleep)

5.)   lie about liking him

6.)   give anyone a chance (i mean him)

7.)   cry herself to sleep because she realized he wasn't the one

8.)   not realize every poem shes written lately has been about him

9.)   play the memories over and over in her mind

10.) never let him know how she feels because that would only complicate things

11.) give him advice, even if its not what she wants to say to him, but it’s for the best

12.) kiss his scars (she knows where he’s been)

13.) regret every word she never said (theres alot)

14.) always wish for him at 11:11

15.) always fall asleep faster when he’s by her side

16.) sing every song in the car off key with him

17.) kiss him and mean it (tells him she doesn’t)

18.) want him so bad it hurts and be content with being just friends (so she says)

19.) spend her nights lying awake retracing her lips because there once was a time he had kissed them

20.) let him call her and tell her that they’re better off staying friends (she’ll agree, hang up and cry herself to sleep)

21.) act like nothing has happened the next time she see’s him (maybe hug him a little longer than usual)

22.) close her eyes and take a deep breath (tell herself she’s okay)

23.) google the symptoms of a broken heart and realize her diagnosis is him

24.) know they’ll never be anything more but  stilll hope

25.) be by his side no matter what


(a.f.)