I hear the distant bell, one, two, three….
On the hour, every hour, I listen,
As I lean against an ancient hawthorn tree.
I hear the bell at eleven.
Calling the faithful to come kneel,
Over the centuries a tradition,
An invite to come, the spirit feel.

I hear the distant bell, one, two, three…
They mark the hours through the dark,
An echo from the past, to all we are free.
I hear the bell at one.
A count down to dawn as I lie awake,
Across this pious town it tolls,
A call, enough to make the spirit quake.

I hear the distant bell, one two, three…
Powerful enough to break an evil spell,
A match for Aoife, which set the children free
I hear the bell at four.
Reassurance for some, a deep seated need,
From the Priory’s time so long ago,
Reminds them of their holy creed

I hear the bell, one, two, three…
For some the Angelus and prayer
Something upon which few can agree.
I hear the bell at six.
The death bell, or for a changing time in life?
Not a warning now for danger in the lough,
Bringing loss and devastating strife.

I hear the bell, one, two, three…
Part of daily life for some,
Sadly not now, no longer me.
I hear the bell at eight.
Would they hear the message if it should come,
Gods grace and faith tested at last,
Or will the pious, great and good just run?

Love?

Love made a fool of me
Three years of yearning
Not realising I had lost,
A dream that would never;
be realised.
He didn’t believe in me
Our love
Our future
Yet

Love is…1 Is Love?
Apples and honeysuckle
Doves and blue roses
Goodwill to another
Delight in their joy
Blindfolded cupids
Forget-me-nots and beads
Passion and virtue
Unrequited, narcissistic
Red tulips and dolphins
Bright crystal and silver hearts
A buttress, a hard place
Strong and enduring
Altruistic and cherished
Fragile and anguished
‘Where the sun meets the sea’

Love is….2
(my) Love needs, must be hard,
To endure, support and survive.

Love will be tested, should be
measured against anguish and pain

love is like a cliff, a buttress
of dull grey hard granite

Love remains despite the tides of
infidelity, chastisement, narcissism

Love is like a massif, with its scree
Its cracks, fractures, yet stands.

Love gives life to others, and beauty
Too, brightly jeweled at its heart

Love is enveloped by the same rain
The same sun that meets the sea

Love is 3
My love is hard, enduring, a rock.
Not some blindfolded cupid or symbolic dove.
Like a sheer granite cliff absorbing life’s shocks
Not so fragile that it need be handled with a glove
Needs must to survive loss, challenge, infidelity
For those that see a diamond, red roses, a righteous heart
To chastise and then cherish, to be willing to set free
What happens when narcissism and greed tear it apart?
We dream of a hero, loyal, strong passionate and true
Too soon find the harps music fades, the tulips wilted
A lover’s ardency wavers; their eye is drawn to what’s new
How often the tale tells of love and life’s dreams jilted
True love is like rain, it touches all, sets us free
It’s like that vision where the sun finally meets the sea.

Horizontal lines of silk, ebbing
To and fro on a plain bedroom wall.

Petite dwindling rainbows, scattered
By the turning of a leafs crystal heart.

A luminous angelic wisp of cloud
Kissed by its kaleidoscopic twin.

White dappled waters rippling,
Silvered trail by night light.

Bejeweled glittering waxen leaves
On tall swaying saplings.

Gossamery silver vein like trails
Revealed on old concrete.

The warm renewal in the morning
The crimson farewell at dusk.

Red waves lapped
Against hot flesh.
Walls thickened,
Reinforced by,
Two hearts coupling.
Around; ribs, lungs
Capillaries, skin
All joined.
Air shared,
Blood shared,
Bodies shared,
Love shared.
How can this be?
Lucid awakening,
A journey of the soul
Within the mind?
Yet the chest is full
And hearts pounding,
Emotions charged.
It is; breath taking,
It is real.

The room was busy
Like an old store
Eclectic, random, quiet.
She sat on a chair,
Vulnerable, young
And yet older.
Her beauty was complex
And manicured.
I leaned in and she said NO
Closer, and she said NO
Invasively, forcefully
She said No, but
I kissed her. That,
Changed everything.
The beauty slipped away
like mist burning off,
The face that remained was
Less, drained, stale,
As if that kiss had
Perished the soul within.
She spoke; I am infected
Vile, foul. Am I? I sigh
as I draw back with
Guilty egoistic remorse.
I awake; sickened and
Selfishly relieved.

Is a wishing of joy.
Seeing a wild spirit,
Holding a lover,
Cherishing a friend
And hand in hand,
Walking in woods
Along the seashore
Standing atop that hill.
Lying bare in open air
Breathing each other in
Seeing, really seeing.
Understanding,
When it is not easy.
Sharing the fullness
As well as the ebb
In another’s life.
Wish them love
And happiness.
Wish them strength
And bright days.
Wish then power of spirit
And gentleness of soul.
Wish them the finding
And holding of desires.
Wish them knowledge
And the time to share it.
Wish that they be seen
And known for their goodness.
Wish them understanding
And the ability to cherish.
Wish that they laugh loud
And cry too when needs.
Wish them virility
And the joy of intimacy.
Wish them lifelong friends
And a family they choose.
Wish them recognition
And quiet satisfaction.
Wish them peace within
And innate exuberance.
Wish them security
And an easy journey.
Wish them challenge
And craved solitude.
Wish them what they need
And the burden of less.
Wish them joy
And adoration.

Boy this is buried deep,
Perhaps too deep. Leave it be?
Fuck that, it’s cost you too much,
Friends, job, sleep, and all those
Fags, bottles of gin… darkness.

Boy this is an old story
Born the day I entered the world
In fact no, probably way before.
He was a bastard and so was I
Fuck that idea, not my cross.

Boy this feels like it is all I am
All I can ever be me/ him
I live his anger, was his anger
Fuck me do I have to be the same
Carrying this shame, his pain.

Boy that was something- what-not good
Not bad- deeply hearty pounding stuff
I know I forgave you weeks ago, still it rages
Fuck the dance, fuck Pol, fuck David, and fuck fatherhood
Fuck nature and life, fuck being gay
In the fucking best of fucking ways

Boy, it made me feel just like
A fractured, aimless broken youth
Weak from fear and weak from anger
My fucking anger, his fucking shameful rage
It hurts my head, my heart, my soul-me

Boy naming this is hard and it hurts
Too late now the dare is on
The cat is really free of the bag
Fuck you Charlie Creelin and
Your anger, and shame and your fucked up brain

So here goes after 54 years
Fuck you father for being a cunt
Fuck you dad for making me the run
Fuck you , you mad angry broken bastard
Fuck you for your heavy hand, your verbal lashings
Fuck you for never hugging, never loving
Fuck you for always blaming me
Fuck you for hating me
Fuck you for never calling me
Fuck you for fiercely beating me
Fuck you for stealing from me
Fuck you for shaming me
Fuck you for scaring the shit out of me
Fuck you for making me want to kill
Fuck you for killing my love
Fuck you for chasing me away
Fuck you for costing me life and family
Fuck you for leaving me this way
Fuck, I wish you had just fucked me- period.
Fuck right off now and die-please.

Hold your breath, on
this long winter night,
as the full moon stirs
your soul and spirit,
shields you in her light;
be still, and feel
the wisdom flow,
feel the hearts
Fulsome glow.
With the inner eye
May your goddess light show,
Bless’d as are her mantle of stars,
And your stark shadow, an echo.
Be enveloped in awen, and
may ancient imbas inflow.
Be nourished by her joy
of shared love herein-below.

Face to face, surrounded by an adolescent thicket
waiting, excited; they stand and stare. ‘Leave her the fuck
alone’ one grates. A shake….of the head and they collide.

Two Bay City Rollers, hard country lads, who knew how to
Stand and fight. Wincing punches traded, the hard crack
Of knuckles, on cheek, nose, lip, head, draws a rabbles gasp.

They go down, one atop the other, and piston like the fist
rises and falls. Muffled, muted moans seep out, as lips bust,
ears bleed, cheeks swell, eyes close and muscles ache.

Standing again, crouch-like, waiting ready. ‘Had enough?’
Bent, breathless, glaring, feeling the pain and sense of loosing.
Spit and blood, pained tears of defeat, defiance, pride. Round two.

No words these friends now; only split flesh, blood and bruises speak.
A ritual, hewn by the crack of bone on bone. A teacher who,
stood by like a coward now arrives, ‘He’s had enough’, and he had.

The circle of crows breaks, and the trance of grit and ugliness, of
Passion and anger is taken. Sickening excitement and fear over,
For a girl…a prize, possession, passion, pride…in a school yard.

I stood, waiting, anticipating….anxious.
The smell of the place, of both life and death.
Emergency surgery takes you into an unknown.
Time passes, like ages and like an instance.
The door opens and creaking wheels approach.

She casually passes my hoped for stripling, and
A sneeze, then another is the first sign of life.
Quite natural as air is bartered for water.
I look into those unaware, naive, cold blue eyes.
He is so, meagre, small; beautifully fragile.

I am overwhelmed. Here is my myrrhy future.
Promises, prayers, oaths are artlessly offered.
He holds my fore-finger, and we shake on it.
My heart aches; he will know a different way,
an unconditional love, always, no matter.