Limbo.
Time engulfs light. Unanswered questions. Silence.
Tick Tock.
He awakens. darkness swallows his passage to light.
He sways the lonely corridor within his mind, hopelessly wandering. Searching. Existing.
He strays off course. Now he is lost, back to where he started.
All over again.
He awakens, searching for an answer.
Impending light is looming. Too late. Time engulfs night.
Limbo.

Leaves crumble under unwashed trainers; silence
He walks along the avenue with hands in pockets,
As street lamps pave the way along the lonely avenue
A Hen Party is sighted; their noisy presence noticed
Out of nowhere a taxi rolls up, a casualty is claimed
He gazes at the midnight stars and smiles
Like a fantasy; a big bubble that hasn’t yet burst
Conversing and gentle laughter picks up at the street corner,
Whilst crowds of hipsters and young people dance and discuss
As Friday nights go; rules are meant to be broken
As this quaint little place provides an escape from it all
With its neon signs and hippy vibes,
Its bonsai trees and chandeliers
Bikes hang from the walls and flower pots roam free
He is greeted by an Ola! and a welcoming smile
A piano sounds from within, a cold breeze chills his neck
He rolls up his collar and enters; silence

Awake! You must- Your day has already begun
Shake loose that tantrum denying your right to voice
And get up! A brand new day has freshly opened up to you
And make this day count as if it were your last
And ignore the droplets of rain and rustling of leaves from outside
Grab hold of that opportunity, for today it should be celebrated
As if the last remaining day on earth; Treat it as so!

"Why is life so cruel, dear friend?" Said the weeping man, slouched over the railings overlooking the harbour.
"What do you mean?" Said the friend.
"Nothing appears to be going my way, I've just lost my job, my girlfriend and I are beginning to have problems and most importantly my-"
And before the poor man could finish, the friend stepped in.
"Look upon the ground and tell me what you see?"
The man stared down and noticed multiple mussel shells scattered and broken.
It was almost reminiscent to that of a battlefield.
"I see shells all broken and-"
And before he could finish, the friend edged in.
"Yes, this is obvious, but what created such sights?"
The man thought for a minute.
And in this moment a flopping gull appeared from above, startling him.
The gull, encircling both men then dropped a shell which landed with a thud.
"You see, a mussel is almost impenetrable-"
The gull swooped down between the men and cawed, grabbing the shell between its beak before flopping away again.
"But the gull, dear friend-"
Suddenly the shell smashed down from above and opened up, revealing a soft glistening mollusc inside.
"The trick is perseverance, to never give up"
The hungry gull then began to gobble up the morsefull before flying off for the final time.
"And with that inner ideology, one will accomplish his mission, no doubt about it."
The friend gave a smile before resting his hand on the man's shoulder.
"Even when times get tough, we shouldn't ever give up."
The poor man looked up, his eyes now clearer than ever.
"Life will throw us obstacles and challenges. But the trick is to overcome. To learn. To be brave."
The man, now smiling; nodded.
The two men set off along the walkway, with the friend intervening once more.
"Now, what was it you were saying about life being so cruel?"

Here you are awaiting my inevitable return from work

With your dough eyed expression, purring static moans

Eager, for another pouch of 'Darcey's Fish Mix'

Unwillingly able to backoff, so I can find some clearance

In order to serve you, my pets; my overbearing bundle of fur

Whom I truly love, forever and always.

You came into the little coffeeshop,
and the jingling of the door chimes
caught my attention
As I glanced across the room
I seen a girl so beautiful,
I momentarily believed
that I was dreaming
But what if I was?
And for a split second
I considered my state of mind
Then you left, hair blowing
in the wind and the
final jingling of the
chimes confirmed my
deepest regret;
that you were indeed real

Hanka, my darling

I remember when we first met, a Wednesday Eve if I recall

The sky was dark and beautiful, so clear even when black

When I first saw your face, I smiled almost immediately

Giddy perhaps, surprised and shy more than likely

And in this moment I saw a girl-

So pure and lovely, it made me weep with curiosity––

How does a man bring happiness?

To a soul so rich and sweet, with time so fine and scarce it was now or never

As the days passed and the hours carried on, I couldn’t stop thinking about you

From Slovakia you had come, you had found yourself in a vast world filled with-

Opportunities and enrichment, I could only admire your strength and courage

You have a beauty, so admirable and great I can’t stop looking at you, and a beauty so-

Adorable and real, it makes me smile even when there is no reason to do so

I wish you luck on your next adventure, to Canada you will go, this country you adore so

But remember me, your Irish boy––As I will remember you

Like a beautiful memory; always there and never forgotten

Bye for now, my love

What is it like for a man of my degree, to live in a hostel-
occupied by thee!
This occupied space, it gives way to an array of wholesome nations
University, diversity and vast superstitions
I spent many-a-year occupying these joints, from the far corners of Portugal
to the farthest Western Spanish point..
But! I tell ye..this is all but a case-study! For this lad has gone fourth and discovered
it all..You see I have studied how the woman cooks and how the man likes to play
How the women get ready, and the men court and sway..
With such heavy limitations, such as technology, breathing-space and privacy to name but a few
The worst of these factors is one trying to find a clean looking loo!
My experiences have differed, from being almost eating alive by the mozzies-
To having the worst morning breakfast a man could ever imagine!
But good things have come through, and it is indeed a fact
To have met wonderful people, ate great food and shared wondrous stories
and it is indeed true, that!
Where will it be next? My wonderment growing ever so high,
Perhaps It’ll all be clear…When I’m next in the sky!

Next year, I’ll see you there,

Beyond the pine groves and through the forest deep

And when the sun decides to shine so bright,

I’ll awake from my slumber, my comfortable sleep

Yet, whichever month it may be;

January, March or February…

I’ll answer your call, or respond to your voice

For this word is filled with beauty, and I needn’t have a choice

And whatever problems we may face,

with family, friends or in the workplace

I’ll always be there to meet you here or where-

Today, tomorrow or next year, I’ll see you there…

Nihility

The place where all but anything occurs.
Where order and disorder have no meaning.
Where dreams are chased but left unattended.
Where solace is never found, and with all the right reasons.
Where pride is hindered, hurt and paraded with hate.

Nihility

Standing together as if glued in a wax-like fashion
Men and women stand awkwardly with darting eyes
Idiosyncratic with all their little quirks,
As they await for something to happen- but nothing comes of it
They all just gawk and amuse themselves
Like shallow voids; pretending
Is this a play act?
Or an example of forgotten selves?
Who knows
I grab a slice of pizza and join in,
And attempt my best Robert De Niro impression
Hoping for some laughs
Hoping, to be accepted

Crowds gathered and the noise of disobedience shook the neighbourhood whole. I was in the southern part of the city, where sinners sinned and the practitioners groomed the bars and off licenses solely to quench their thirst for liquor. It was almost midnight and hordes of young and old alike chanted and sung merry making song that rang through city; and what a noise it was. And it was on this night I met a lad who dressed as if the night belonged to him. A tall, slender fellow who hadn’t a care in the world. His Caribbean afro would bob up and down as we giggled to anecdotal stories of the past. We were rebels of the night, breaking away from the fragile unity that was the friendship circle.

A few stragglers in the form of Chavs had joined. Many of them formed bonds with the pretty girls, rivalling us out in the end. Deciding momentarily on what our next plan was, we split away from the group and continued midnight drinking into the Holy Lands. We could hear the barking of neighbourhood dogs tangle with the distant explosions of fireworks in the sky. It was beautifully chaotic. But as midnight sinners it was like music to our ears.

“I’m off mate, take care of yourself.” The fellow said as he guzzled his last remainder of his bottled Budweiser.

“You heading home, aye?” I smirked, clearly egging him on to stay out just a tad longer. But, this was to be it. With a hug and a good luck, he was off, towards the mystic backstreets and towards the Ormeau Road. I never caught the young lad’s name, nor did I ever catch his age. It was a strange meeting between the two of us. As if, for one singular night we knew everything about each other yet knew nothing at all. I recall sitting back down on the sidewalk and smiling, before looking up towards the decorative sparkly night sky. And, what turned out to be a spontaneous and random night ended up as a completed final chapter, to a superb little story.

A man’s bike is very much like a loyal dog,
Obedient, fast and often times clumsy
For us men, our bike’s can mean the world to us,
For they take us from A to B, and from Y to Z
Our bike’s can’t survive on their own you know, the past has proven this so
Maintenance is a must, not a maybe,
Just like you wouldn’t leave home without feeding the hound, would you?
We’ve travelled across cities ten-fold, my bike and I,
Beyond mountainous regions and across lakes and rivers
You see, my bike has this energy,
Not like anything I have witnessed before
It surpasses all expectations, and has held together strong through the ages of time
I never gave my bike a name,
And nor will I ever plan to do so
For the bike, you see is part of our physical being,
And has one solid purpose in life
See, It’s just a piece of mechanical assembly
Built for our pleasure in mind
It takes us places where the foot dare not enter,
And where the car wheel would struggle to go
Two wheels, rotating simultaneously at dizzying speeds!
Ah! What a sight to behold
As I take my dear boy by the handle bars, its glistening paintwork shines bright
I make sure it’s sturdy for the ride ahead, my mechanical warhorse
I say to myself under uncertain breath..
“Let’s follow the sunset, or where the rainbow ends its journey”
For our uncertainty leads to great adventure and discovery
And in the end, isn’t life meant to be one big beautiful adventure, anyway?

I have this little grey cat, who is quite mischievous and that;
who knows not when to stop and takes pride in destroying-
At times it can be utterly and truly annoying.
Do not be deceived by her looks,  as she’s fluffy and grey in disguise
For her ferocity comes out when she’s hungry, and believe me that’s to no one’s surprise!
We’ve had her for as long as we can recall;  this jungle cat, ah what a creature!
The neighbourhood cat’s bounce and scamper,  as the grey haired warrior poses a danger
Equipped with a set of tools,  ranging from ravenous teeth to knife-like claws
And if you thought that was terrifying ; she even creates her own household laws!
There is this debate about which is most supreme ; the dog or the cat
And whilst the dog offers loyalty and trust, this grey haired rebel offers much more than that.
sleeping and eating, fighting for territory; our little pets’ have no shame-
This little boss strides along without a care, seeking and searching for fame..
But if you are needing some time to relax, and you are trying your best to sleep
Beware, what lurks around the house at night
For the grey-haired jungle cat knows how to creep!
Prowling and crawling up the stairs, we hear nothing, not even a sound..
As we lay asleep but feel something by our feet, we soon realise
That this is the little grey-warrior’s playground!

Car horns slice through the air,
congestion gathers on the roads
making murky smoky trails

There sits a man

whom bears heavy weight;
shrouded, in dark clothing and mystery
Bearded, diligent and wise

Alan is his name

A Scouser if I'd ever seen one,
always happy and yet never alarmed
by the noises and pollution around him

This, is his home

I see him everyday when I pass,
come rain or shine, hail or wind
He sits, diligently and acute
with a paper cup in hand

Living in the open city

He shows that life can be unpredictable,
yet freedom cannot be contained
We've chatted, him and I
He says the institutions can't keep him down

They're out for money and control

This is his freedom, his way of life
to do what whatever he pleases
Tent ready, trolly in possession
Without fear, without order
without rules

Not knowing what the next day may bring

Stood, fixed to the spot the man observed well into the darkness
as far as the eye could see. This was his view, as he nervously awaited his flight. The large windows showcased a cascade of gale and rain, like a Russian ballet, some kind of twisted beauty. Looking outwards towards the sheer magnitude of the storm, blankets of pelting rain gunned down onto the tarmac ground. The only lights were from the large runway floodlights, rocking back and fourth as the wind began to show no mercy. The windows take a battering, as his mind contemplates ever get off this rock.
"Mother nature cannot be tamed, nor can her wrath, it's better to let her be," he mutters.
The loud speaker blurts out "Departure gates have now opened."
And, in this moment his fixed gaze slowly detaches itself from the wrath, away from the demon. Away, from the dance.

I saw him again today, that man
So clothed in mystery
He was quiet today,
Just like every other day
Probably hoping to be left alone
But, we'll never know
And I'll never ask

I saw him again today, that man
So clothed in mystery
Yet, for reasons I can't comprehend,
I often see myself in him
Staring back, trying to figure it all out
One passing day at a time

Won't You Go Away, Oh Dreary Rain?

Oh Rain!  Go away! Elsewhere but here
And be gone with your gloomy ways; ******!
For I have had enough of your detestible behaviour, so devoted on ruining plans
You come in all of your grey-puddled glory; like the eye of an elder
What is it that makes you detest I,  oh dreary one?
Is it my dry appearance that you despise so much?
Or perhaps my freshly laundered clothes, that you must make dripping wet!
I shall never know of your cruel reasons, and I shan’t needn’t care!
For you are just an obstacle, a miserable and detested bully-
Whom appears in my life far too often!
Why is it that brother sun brings me happines?
His sunshine rays enriching my life, giving me warmth and light
And sister moon?  Her nightly glow giving my aching body rest as I sleep at night
Shall we make peace now and build new bridges,  oh dreary one?
Call a truce?  Make way to new beginnings and beautiful fortunes?
Let’s not rush this new alliance, instead we’ll take each day as it comes
But the question I must ask, Rain; will you ever learn from brother sun?