Monday, June 24, 2013

Cé Tú Féin? (Eanáir 2013)

Dá gcuirfí an cheist orm inniu
Is mé im' aonar sa leabharlann,
Seangheansaí rugbaí an choláiste
Á chaitheamh agam d'ainneoin an
Cárta as-dáta aitheantais im' phóca,

Leabhar as-cló filíochta os mo chomhar,
Peann dubh leath-fholamh im' lámh,
Leideanna na málaí gorma fém' shúile
Ar aghaidh nár bhraith faobhar an rásúir
Ar feadh seachtaine fhuar fhada,

N'fheadar an ndéarfainn gur file mé féin,
Nó múinteoir nua, nó fós i mo mhac léinn,
Cúlbáire gan cúl, amadán, leaid saonta óg,
Nó smaointeoir tuirseach ina shuí i liombó.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Where I Lie Again

There is a shameful temptation
At times like this
When I survey the mess
Of my bedroom floor
And try to make some kind of sense
Of all these scattered things,

To justify it all
As the manifestation
Of great internal chaos,
A tangible metaphor
For the torment of my soul,
My haunted psyche,

In my guise of stubborn artist.
But alas! I yield to truth.
It's no interpretation
Of some great creative madness,
Nor any lovesick sadness,
But my disordered life's accumulations.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

In Security

He bid me a good day
And crossed the road
Through a gap in the traffic
To hand out an armful of leaflets
To the strangers gathered waiting
At the bus-stop by the park,

His shirt un-tucked, half-buttoned,
Perhaps once of a similar colour
To the uniforms at the shop tills inside
But now faded and stained and hanging
Over ragged baggy tracksuit bottoms
With keys and chain banging at his knee,

And two security guards stood
Shouting and laughing by the shop doors,
"He's totally loopy in the head!"
And pointing their warning fingers
At the poor retreating madman,
Menace and malice in their smiles,

Clenched fists insisting that he stop
Taking leaflets from their shop,

Or else.