Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Cíara McNamara Jun 2015
I have these words
etched onto the
left hand corner
of my heart.

The grá I have for you,
so full and bold -
A love so meaningful
it can never truly be
told.

Mise agus Tusa,
you and me,
just three little words
etched into my heart.
From each and every pore look how the sun beams
On Your eternal dance
The dark side of the moon is bright
If You open Your mouth
Stars will escape and chant their hymns for You
You are they
Swiftly swans fly backwards
How can I imagine Your embrace
Without exploding in Your galaxy?

As gach póir Díot

As gach póir Díot scallann an ghrian
Ar Do dhamhsa gan chríoch
Taobh dorcha na gealaí is geal
Má osclaíonn Tú Do bhéal
Éalóidh réaltaí, canfaidh iomainn Duit
Is Tusa iadsan
Ealaí ag eitilt go gasta ar gcúl
Conas a shamhlóinn barróg Uait
Mura bpléascfainn Id réaltbhuíon?
Donall Dempsey Feb 2022
IS TUSA...MO THEACH RÚNDA BEAG
(You Are...My Little Secret House)



my house
a hedge
on my uncle's farm




that only existed
in summer
holiday land




In terms of time
it is the year
called 1963




but that is neither
here nor there
for this is the timeless time




of a small boy who
wishes to be
invisible




found when falling
from a tree
into a fairy tale




hedge of many
years standing
thick and tangled with time




door
?
there is no door




one has
to beat
one's way in




the only door is
pain
and determination




endure the sting
of nettle
the scratch of briar




crying is
the only thing
not allowed




burrs clinging
to curls
and geansaí




transforming you
into a wild
creature




dock leaves stand near by
to take the sting
out of things




the hedge
closing
behind you




but once inside
it blossoms out into
a makeshift  palace




that only
a child could
cherish




a hedgehog
keeps
house




the other
occupants
various creepy crawlies




sunlight now
and then
comes to visit




sometimes
the rain
drops in




gossiping in
drips
and drabs




a roof of bird song
and green
sunlight




a wall of pig squeals
and chicken clucks
moos and barkings




I a creature
amongst
other creatures




sharing this
the same
moment





grateful
I am
for their acceptance




oh I must go. . .
a butterfly
needs to talk to me
Donall Dempsey Feb 2020
IS TUSA...MO THEACH RÚNDA BEAG
(You Are...My Little Secret House)

My house
a hedge

on my uncle's farm
that only existed

in summer
holiday land.

In terms of time
it is the year

called 1963
but that is neither

here nor there
for this is the timeless time

of a small boy who
wishes to be invisible.

Found when falling
from a tree

into a fairy tale
hedge of many

years standing
thick and tangled with time.

Door?
There is no door.

One has to beat
one's way in.

The only door is pain
and determination.

Endure the sting of nettle
the scratch of briar.

Crying is the only thing
not allowed

Burrs clinging to curls
and geansaí

transforming you
into a wild creature.

Dock leaves stand near by
to take the sting out of things.

The hedge closing
behind you.

But once inside
it blossoms out into

a makeshift  palace
that only a child could cherish

A hedgehog
keeps house.

The other occupants
various creepy crawlies.

Sunlight now and then
comes to visit.

Sometimes the rain
drops in

gossiping in drips
and drabs.

A roof of bird song
and green sunlight.

A wall of pig squeals and chicken clucks.
A wall of moos and barkings.

I a creature
amongst other creatures

Sharing this
the same moment.

Grateful I am
for their acceptance.

Oh I must go. . .
a butterfly needs to talk to me.
Donall Dempsey Feb 2024
IS TUSA...MO THEACH RÚNDA BEAG
(You Are...My Little Secret House)

my house
a hedge
on my uncle's farm

that only existed
in summer
holiday land

in terms of time
it is the year
called 1963

but that is neither
here nor there
for this is the timeless time

of a small boy who
wishes to be
invisible

found when falling
from a tree
into a fairy tale

hedge of many
years standing
thick and tangled with time

door?there is no door
one has to beat
one's way in

the only door is
pain
and determination

endure
the sting of nettle
the scratch of briar

crying is
the only thing
not allowed

burrs
clinging to curls
and geansaí

transforming
you into
a wild creature

dock leaves
stand near by
to take the sting out of things

the hedge closing
behind you
but once inside

it blossoms out into
a makeshift  palace
that only a child could cherish

a hedgehog keeps house
other occupants
various creepy crawlies

sunlight
now and then
comes to visit

sometimes
the rain
drops in

gossiping
in drips
and drabs

a roof of
bird song
and green sunlight

a wall of pig squeals
and chicken clucks.
a wall of moos and barkings

I a creature
amongst other creatures
sharing this the same moment

grateful
I am
for their acceptance

oh I must go. . .
a butterfly
needs to talk to me
Leydis Oct 2017
Yo trate de ser como decían que debí ser.
Me comporté como todo una dama.
Hice todo lo que se me pedía en la cama.
Más de una vez, calle hasta mis perversas ganas.
Calle tanto, que mi verdad fue a parar al manicomio,
ahí, donde no bregan con demonios.

Yo trate de ser como decían que debí ser.
Aguante infidelidades por una estabilidad inestable.
Hubieron clavos penetrando mi espalda, en vez de rosas en mano.
Perdone tanto que la absolución me tomo antipatía.

Yo trate de ser como decían que debí ser.
A veces fui sofá de ilusiones transitorias,
vestidas en finas sedas de perpetuidad.
A veces fui pared…inopinable,
solo un espacio donde colocar preciosos retratos.
A veces fui lienzo en blanco,
para quien en mi cuerpo quiso describir su arte.

Yo quise ser como decían que debí ser.
Una ilustre carrera deje para que
el ego de un indeciso no saliera dañado.
Se enfermó mi dignidad y con tristeza la medique.
Tome el brebaje de la inseguridad.
Debilite mi sistema emocional,
y mi fe, se encogía de vergüenza en una esquina.

Yo quise ser como decían que debí ser.
pero existía dentro de mí una rebeldía.
Una insolencia a ser parte de una perpetua esclavitud,  
algo en mí, desistía ser juguete de nadie,
a ser menos que el aire,
a rebajarme por mantener un amor.

Yo quise ser como decían que debí ser.
Pero mis pies en fuego ardían,
y recogía y me iba,
y no sé a cuántos le alce la voz,
y a más de uno, los mande a comer tusa,
y me volví mi propia musa,
a veces la propia medusa,
y me refugie en mi calor para abrigar mis grimas,
en mi inteligencia para resolver con astucia,
en mi pudor para seguir dando un paso en harmonía,
en esa insistencia de que había más en la vida,
que yo tenía algo que aportaría,
alguien al que estar conmigo y soportar no serían la misma cosa,
y algunos los deje amándolos como mis amos,
a otros el corazón les deje en pedazos,
y talvez me merezca todo lo que venga,
talvez me merezca el cielo y todas las prosas,
talvez mis serpientes nunca muerdan,
o talvez me llamaran impúdica,
me llamaran Medusa,
me llamaran el mismo infierno
pero nunca dirán que
“fui….
¡lo que otros quisieron que yo fuese”!!

LeydisProse
10/17/2017
https://www.facebook.com/LeydisProse/
Moss 5d
mó grá
mó réalta
u don't know how much u fumbled
saw the stars in ur eyes
orions belt on ur cheek
i saw every bit of good in u
even now i do
u fumbled and I fell
i helped u up
is mise fuilteacha
is mise briste
Agus tusa freisin?

— The End —