tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66156760164118979352024-02-22T00:55:12.879+01:00RandomosityRandomosityNothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.comBlogger237125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-89197674591311750902016-01-01T01:11:00.002+01:002016-01-01T01:11:42.082+01:00Happy new yearI am thinking of you, happy new year.Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-91820275903476790432015-01-01T01:15:00.001+01:002015-01-01T01:15:43.333+01:00As always, today I am thinking of you. Happy new year.Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-57421453887048548632014-01-01T00:50:00.003+01:002014-01-01T00:50:57.726+01:00Happy New YearHappy new year,<br />
I am, as always, thinking of you,<br />
I have not forgotten you.<br />
<br />Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-48836356377399285852013-09-07T12:27:00.001+02:002013-09-07T12:37:54.569+02:00Suicide Prevention Week<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have written several pieces on this blog which talk about losing my friend to suicide. The first, </span><a href="http://annoying-randomosity.blogspot.ie/2011/01/poem.html" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://annoying-randomosity.blogspot.ie/2011/01/poem.html</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, was written days after she died and is simply about loss, my sadness in the days that followed her death. At this point we didn't know how she had died, just that she was gone. It was only later on the we understood that her death had come at her own hand, and then grief changed into something more complicated, mingled with confusion and guilt. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After I discovered she had taken her own life I didn't write anything about her at all for some months, I couldn't find any words. The next time I found something i could say about her i wrote this, </span><a href="http://annoying-randomosity.blogspot.ie/2011/06/poem-regret.html" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://annoying-randomosity.blogspot.ie/2011/06/poem-regret.html</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, just a few words which were not about her, but about my own guilt for the way we lost her. It took a very long time to let go of that guilt, and sometimes I still think, 'what if'. A thousand tiny things that, done differently, might mean she would still be alive.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A year after she died i wrote this, </span><a href="http://annoying-randomosity.blogspot.ie/2011/12/2011-and-christmas-wishes.html" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://annoying-randomosity.blogspot.ie/2011/12/2011-and-christmas-wishes.html</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. I thought that enough time had passed for me to be pragmatic, when I wrote this piece I thought it was measured and unemotional, but now I can see the hurt and anger bleeding from every line.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A year ago I wrote this, </span><a href="http://annoying-randomosity.blogspot.com.au/2012/09/suicide-awareness-day.html" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://annoying-randomosity.blogspot.com.au/2012/09/suicide-awareness-day.html</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, and decided that it would be the last thing I would write about her. I </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">wanted to stop missing her, stop thinking about her, lay it all down and move away. Easier said than done. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, its easier to think about her. I have stopped trying to understand why she died. Still, I think about her often but I am less likely to start to cry when a moment in an ordinary day reminds me of her. Our other friends from that time have moved on, new lives, marriages and babies and now she is just a story that we never tell each other. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I spent a lot of time in the past few years trying to find out why people kill themselves, but I don't understand. Now I think I'm probably lucky that this is the case, lucky that I have never been to the place where it is a consideration. I wanted to find some words to show people that living itself is reason enough to live. Arrogantly I thought it was just a matter of explaining things in the right way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't think the words exist, but I do think that there are things we can do. We can be kind to one another, we can try to reach out a little, we can put supports in place, look out for signs of despair. We can look after each other. We can ask for help, and offer it. We can talk honestly and openly about suicide. We can do all of these things and try to make a difference to a life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We will still lose people, it won't always be enough. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we lose them we can hold on to each other and try to mourn together. We can remember them and love them and forgive ourselves and them. We can write about them, talk about them and miss them. What we cannot do is change what has happened, we could torture ourselves with 'what if' but it will not change what was, what is. We will cry for them and think that we will never stop crying, but we will stop. As anniversaries pass the pain of it diminishes. Things get better, as they should. The dead remain dead, and we keep on living, hopefully we keep on living.</span><br />
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); color: #593c1e; font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin; font-size: 18px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-50940413712378468322013-02-02T11:02:00.000+01:002013-02-02T11:14:54.695+01:00Poem: Omelas <br />
...And then they brought me then to see the child<br />
crouched in the darkness, desperate and deliberate<br />
and my heart hurt then, wanting to scoop it up in my arms,<br />
hold it to me and love it because it was a broken thing<br />
but for thoughts of myself and thoughts of my world<br />
the this I have, this I want to continue to have,<br />
this I want for my children and theirs and it was weeping,<br />
it had no words and I made myself reason and weigh<br />
and the cost of taking it with me was high and<br />
I did not want to pay so I turned from it and it was weeping<br />
still and I did not do anything and I was selfish<br />
and I called myself brave for the sympathy I felt for it<br />
and called my guilt a noble sacrifice and did nothing<br />
and it was weeping but I left it there in the dank black darkness,<br />
I called my cowardice fair and said I could not make the choice,<br />
I could not decide what would become of everyone else <br />
and I did not rescue it and I could not bear it and I walked away form Omelas... Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-49465196134188296472013-01-01T13:47:00.001+01:002013-01-01T13:57:46.143+01:00New Year's Eve, 2012<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don't worry, </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have not forgotten you.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This year I stayed up</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Smiled for the company</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But all of my thoughts</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Were for you.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My dearest friend,</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course I think of you</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All of the time. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am not ready yet</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To say goodbye. </span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-48768640998776234622012-11-03T11:38:00.000+01:002012-11-03T11:38:56.098+01:00Poem: Reality<br />
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-4906871368505850374" itemprop="description articleBody" style="position: relative; width: 568px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Sheep do not look at eagles and wish that they could fly.<br />That would be stupid.<br />What I am is a real construct,<br />made up of memory and influence. </span></div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-4906871368505850374" itemprop="description articleBody" style="position: relative; width: 568px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Dreams are different.<br />I can no more take the things I want and live them<br />then the sheep can, </span></div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-4906871368505850374" itemprop="description articleBody" style="position: relative; width: 568px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">it is not a question of determination<br />I am no more capable then them.</span></div>
Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-59574273781312492792012-10-07T13:15:00.001+02:002012-10-07T13:15:26.483+02:00Poem: We Wish for Impossible Things<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-4097415015664086415" itemprop="description articleBody" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.5; position: relative; width: 568px;">
There are some things you should wish for<br />With your half-baked, heart ached toss of a coin,<br />These are your wishing well moments, your bubble dreams,<br />These wishes, they are impossible things.<br /><br />Yesterday, once today, is memory<br />And blue black bruises fade to brown<br />She wished for clean white kisses, yellow mornings<br />These wishes, they are impossible things.<br /><br />You reach right handed, left bloody<br />And one time caress is a slap<br />She wanted soft touches, babies, white weddings<br />These wishes, they are impossible things.<br /><br />Sometimes she is so much smaller then this<br />And curls in a corner to cry<br />And in the darkness, there pain sings,<br />These wishes, they are impossible things.<br /><br />Once upon a promise they spoke magic<br />And led us then to believe<br />Beneath our shoulders were angels wings<br />And so we wish for impossible things.<div style="clear: both;">
</div>
</div>
<div class="post-footer" style="border-top-color: rgb(119, 119, 119); border-top-style: dashed; border-top-width: 1px; color: #997755; line-height: 1.6; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 10px;">
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</span>Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-19098913852082131152012-09-30T21:36:00.002+02:002012-09-30T21:40:08.161+02:00Poem: Cantata <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-size: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><br />
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Fills me with something, better than sensation.</span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">
<div>
Pure. Use it to blot out the world, and to be of it.</div>
<div>
Trade touch for this, sight, limb and sense</div>
<div>
to live bathed in it. Rise and fall, stops breath</div>
<div>
thought and reason. Wells inside, consumes, feeds.</div>
<div>
Fulfills and makes me want, everything in this.</div>
<div>
For a moment, perfection, echoing. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Enough. </span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Joyous. Living.</span></span></span>Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-34075041555139802232012-09-30T12:46:00.000+02:002012-09-30T12:46:11.321+02:00Poem: Kindest Thing<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The kindest thing you did,<br />Was to draw me a portrait<br />Of someone who never existed.<br />Gone while she was still an idea<br />You gave her form, face and life,<br />Pieced her together for me.<br />
<br />The blue of here eyes, like mine,<br />You painted her smiling<br />So I could imagine giving her<br />A life where she was happy.<br />A delicacy in the curve of her jaw<br />Because she was to be beautiful.<br />
<br />The shell of her ear, curl of her hair,<br />You made her real again,<br />Instead of a sad story I think about<br />In the darkness before dawn.<br />
In the absence of anything like hope<br />All I wanted was to see her face.<br />
<br />You made her into a person at last<br />Instead of being a secret<br />That went away namelessly<br />
Before anybody had found us out.<br />
You found a way to give her to me<br />
And it was the kindest thing.</span></span>Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-47284512204616084492012-09-29T12:57:00.001+02:002012-09-29T12:57:08.365+02:00Poem: TradeEverything that I am.<div>
All that I believe in.</div>
<div>
If it means you are here.</div>
<div>
Even if I do not get to see you,</div>
<div>
Or know you,</div>
<div>
Or love you.</div>
<div>
They can have anything</div>
<div>
Because this is too hard.</div>
<div>
My heart is breaking. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-80888741054036439312012-09-19T09:19:00.004+02:002012-09-19T09:28:36.114+02:00Poem: Billy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">It was not that kind of loss.</span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Not like those gone before who left me,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">breathless and broken in my grief.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Someone took me to one side and whispered it</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">you had succumbed at last to the dying,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">that everyone knew was coming.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Quietly sad, I thought about about</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">laughing with you while we smoked outside.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Snatches of your life told to me in illicit puffing.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This shared habit having us hide out back in the rain.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">You reminded me of my grandad, </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">of an older Ireland and men</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">in crisp white shirts with dirty collars.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">A few pints after work and a way of telling,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">the saddest stories that made them a comedy.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I brought you books to keep you occupied,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">while you watched the door.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Playing with your incredulity by replacing</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">murder mystery with modern philosophy.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Delighted to have you give them back, </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">read and pronounced bullshit.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Gruff and unyielding in old fashioned prejudices,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">there was a kindness to you</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">that made them harmless.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">An unobtrusive goodness,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">that the world is worse for losing.</span></div>
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-size: 24px;"> </span>Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-30319588476152196972012-09-14T09:18:00.000+02:002012-09-14T09:19:27.111+02:00Poem: Estranged<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); color: #593c1e; font-size: 24px;"></span><br /></span>
<br />
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">There was a time when we would lie</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">Wrapped in each other, knowing every dream,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">Secrecy meaningless because I could taste your thoughts.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">You found the small broken places that could not be mended,</span></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">Patched them closely with silver threads of desire and love -</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">Because I let you touch me the world was better. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">Often we did not need words, my favored medium,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">You read me silently with your fingertips and told me to myself</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">With the flutter of eyelashes against my neck.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">If I tensed a muscle in my cheek you saw a memory</span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">That you could wash away with a kiss to my wrist</span><br />
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">And one slow delicious roll of your body against mine.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"></span>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Had we been able to lock the doors and shut ourselves in</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I think we would have spent forever breathing each other,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Happily sustained by bright silent desire.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">The world intruded of course and we lost sight of us,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">One small lie and suddenly your shoulders were strangers -</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">A slow white blink of your eye I could not decipher.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Now I see you and it is as if I never mapped your history</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">In the smooth of your back and jutting sharpness of your hip,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">You have crows feet that I am not allowed to taste.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I have forgotten how to read your body as I used to,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">A cold handshake tells me nothing of the years that have passed,</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Your perfunctory brush of lips on my cheek is incoherent. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: MarkerFelt-Thin;">
<br /></div>
</span></div>
Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-54646957911484407122012-09-09T11:12:00.000+02:002012-09-09T11:14:22.270+02:00Suicide Awareness Day<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); color: #593c1e;"></span><br /></span>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">Tomorrow, 10 September, is national suicide awareness day and I'd like to talk about losing my friend to suicide.</span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">When she died we were initially told that there had been a tragic accident. We knew she had been spending Christmas abroad with her family and set to googling to try and work out what had happened. We found a news article about a car accident where there had been one fatality, the age was wrong but we thought that might be a mistake and guessed that this was how she had died.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As the days passed the story became more confused. We discovered that she had passed away at home, and that she had died on New Years Eve. Even then, knowing her as we did we never imagined that she had taken her own life. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> She had seemed so happy, when we heard what had actually happened the shock was immense. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I didn't believe it. I thought a mistake had been made, that she had hurt herself accidentally or that someone else had harmed her. Even when there was no question anymore I could not accept it. How was it that my beautiful friend had been so desperate and none of us had seen any warning signs. How was it that she could have died, alone in such sadness when there were so many people, just minutes away, who loved her so much.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As weeks passed I would imagine her in that moment. What she was feeling, how she negotiated the moment between living and deciding not to live anymore. How she did it. Why she did it. I crafted a horrible image where she changed her mind only when it was too late to turn back. Imagined her trying to stay awake, to reach for her phone as it buzzed with New Years text messages so that she could be saved, only to find that she was too weak now to move. I imagined her crying, realizing that it was too late, understanding that she was going to die alone, frightened and sorry. I imagined she despaired at the end, that life seemed worthwhile again in her last moments. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I hope that she just went to sleep believing she had found some peace.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">We didn't talk about it. We always used that original story and talked about a tragic accident. I had the word suicide stuck in my throat, terrified I was going to scream it out for want of some truth. I felt like I was part of an elaborate lie, everyone knowing but nobody speaking. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Months after she died a group of us sat together in a pub and she was mentioned. For the first time somebody said suicide and the conversation changed. We honed in on it, now that it had been verbalized. The conversation we had was filled with so much anger that it hurts me now to think of it. For a moment we were united in hating her for it. All of our hurt and confusion twisted into complete rage, what she had done to her family, what she had done to us.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I am not angry now, our anger in that moment can be understood. Now I just feel very sad that she is not here anymore. The reason she is not here matters less than it did. It was important for us to be able to talk about it, to make it real and lay it down, to accept it and move away from the way she died to a more honest grief.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes I think, what if I had called her on the phone. If it had been at exactly the right moment would something I said have changed that night, stilled her hand until the moment had passed and she wouldn't have died. She would still be here. But we cannot rewrite the past, we cannot bring her back with wishes and regret. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Now, I find myself watching. I see a small sadness in a friend and feel a horrible sinking terror that they are hiding a bigger despair. I worry because I missed it in her. I fear getting another telephone call to say that someone else I love felt so lost in the world that they thought it better to leave it. Selfishly, I'm terrified that I will have to deal with it again, that I will have to relearn every moment I spent with them to the tune of their dying. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">If there was any magic in the world I would use it to bring her back, or if that was to big I would use it instead to be with her again for a moment. Not to ask her why, not now, but rather to wrap her in a hug and make sure she knew that I loved her. While everything else has been boxed up and put away safely it is the thought of her dying without that knowledge that hurts now. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I do not know that there is anything we could have done to help her. There is no way to work out why she took her life. What I do know is that the pain of losing someone to suicide is a singular hurt, all mixed up with anger and confusion and regret. Talking about it is difficult, people do not know how to react, often there is a sense of shame. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I don't know if awareness will help people in despair, or if our being more aware could have saved her; but I do know that awareness helps the people who are left behind. Being able to say, 'this is what happened to my friend, this is how she died' allows us to process it. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Many people have stories like this to tell, or stories they do not feel able to give voice. The importance of awareness cannot be underestimated, nor can the importance of reaching out, talking and listening to the things people might not be saying. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This week is world suicide prevention week. Tell someone your story. </span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #593c1e;">
<br /></div>
</span>Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-40809011403031225462012-08-07T12:06:00.002+02:002012-08-07T12:11:02.902+02:00Poem: Mont Saint-MichelI<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">n the brochure they promised a spiritual experience,</span><br />
Doubtful but I climbed the steps, scoffed at tacky shops, <br />
Complained my legs hurt, but liked the shape of it<br />
The imposing majesty of buildings growing from the rock.<br />
<br />
I wandered the maze of rooms with the crowds,<br />
Blinked at the impossible beauty of human endeavor,<br />
That runs in a wheel to lift supplies to make monument<br />
To the story of a dragon slaying angel.<br />
<br />
I wandered the cloisters and for one moment was alone<br />
By chance one noisy group leaving before another arrived,<br />
Head bowed in the setting sun it would seem like praying<br />
But I was thinking of the past, lost in imagining how it was<br />
That such an impossibility was dreamed and made reality.<br />
<br />
At the top was an almighty room filled with a single cello<br />
Mournful and hopeful, haunting, it filled my mind<br />
Until it blocked out everyone else and I was alone again,<br />
Sat in a pew, eyes closed and dreaming of forever and the world,<br />
Bigger than me, endless and always, magnificent without divinity.<br />
<br />
Walking from the muted light into waiting dusk to stand above the world<br />
I was no closer to God than before, soothed by the peace of it<br />
I almost wished I could feel that too but as always it was enough<br />
To look upon the beauty of reality and love it as a precious thing<br />
That needs no pretending, that can be touched and can be cherished.<br />
<br />
<br />Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-80003770254956124172012-07-07T12:21:00.003+02:002012-07-07T12:21:47.907+02:00Poem: An Ordinary DayHow is it that it was just an ordinary day?<br />
I sat on the couch and drank coffee<br />
Reading one of the Brontes, again.<br />
<br />
For breakfast I had slightly burnt toast<br />
That left crumbs all over the floor,<br />
Showered and dressed and went outside<br />
To sit in the sun with more coffee and books.<br />
<br />
A precious day off, a day with no urgency<br />
Leaving me relaxed and calm and contented.<br />
I tipped my head back, closed my eyes<br />
And basked in the rare bliss of Irish sunshine.<br />
<br />
The shrill summons of a ringtone interrupted,<br />
Mildly irritating but I answered, my hello abrupt.<br />
Then the day splintering around me, the world altered,<br />
Rushing away to deal with intruding life.<br />
<br />
Midnight before I staggered home again exhausted,<br />
Worn out with waiting and the outcome of the wait,<br />
The sun was gone, the dishes unwashed, the day finished,<br />
The crumbs on the floor to be swept away before I could sleep. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-12505733949512975102012-06-27T15:22:00.000+02:002012-06-27T15:22:11.704+02:00Poem: Baile Atha CliathIt was the marching<br />
heavy boots thumping through<br />
what was once my city,<br />
but a lot has changed here<br />
since the last march.<br />
<br />
Sing ‘rare ole times’<br />
and lighters five for fifty<br />
‘till your throat is raw,<br />
it still won’t come back<br />
and be our town again.<br />
<br />
They thought hatred was orange<br />
but it was only a way to mourn<br />
what the tiger consumed<br />
to bring us here<br />
where we should not be.<br />
<br />
It reminded us of what we lost. <br />Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-14152093328425268762012-06-20T17:50:00.000+02:002012-06-20T17:50:28.836+02:00Poem: Urban ChildrenThe smell of smoke lingers still, <br />
do you remember<br />
how it caught in our throats <br />
and made us splutter? <br />
<br />
Those games we played, <br />
dangerous games,<br />
we dared each other to run on the factory roof<br />
and leap over the gaps in the rafters, <br />
heart stopping now to think about the rot <br />
beneath our feet and how we were unaware <br />
of any danger, laughing while it creaked below us <br />
and threatened to cave in.<br />
<br />
Remnants of machines <br />
left a rusted tangle of sharp edged <br />
metal that we climbed fearlessly, <br />
catching our clothes and skinning our hands,<br />
eight foot, ten above the concrete floor <br />
playing monkey bars, hilarious to catch someone <br />
and tickle them while they held on.<br />
<br />
Slipping in under the barbed wire, <br />
it was our playground<br />
hide and seek heaven if you could <br />
pick your way up the collapsed stairs,<br />
the best spot I found was <br />
squeezed inside an old fuse box<br />
listening to the crackle and buzz <br />
and you outside calling for me,<br />
screaming with laughter <br />
and a chorus of ‘you’re it’. <br />
<br />
The bigger kids, <br />
they lit the fires and left a black shell <br />
but we played there still, <br />
attracted by the bleakness of it<br />
and the fact it was forbidden. <br />Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-84291608478534723682012-06-11T19:32:00.000+02:002012-06-11T19:32:27.975+02:00Poem: ReconciliationBecause we spoke <br />
the truth they burned <br />
the joy out of us.<br />
<br />
Pushed us to our <br />
knees in small <br />
dark cages.<br />
<br />
I feel the <br />
close smell of it <br />
still, all of the shame.<br />
<br />
Sanctity in <br />
mumbled verses of<br />
retribution and repentance.<br />
<br />
The black veil falling, <br />
mesh distorting the <br />
face of judgement.<br />
<br />
They made us <br />
sad and small <br />
and frightened.<br />
<br />
Absolving us conditionally, <br />
feigning forgiveness for<br />
our imaginary wrongs.<br />
<br />
We stopped speaking, <br />
too careful, a sin<br />
this touching someone else.<br />
<br />
Love <br />
a twisted, filthy <br />
black useless thing.<br />
<br />
We stopped loving, <br />
a great broken pretending <br />
and so much unhappiness.<br />
<br />
There was so much <br />
unhappiness. <br />Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-85150754967676582702012-05-21T19:24:00.004+02:002012-05-21T19:24:57.163+02:00Poem: StorytellerWe will be honest about our dishonesty<br />
weave a fiction,<br />
make use of hindsight,<br />
be careful of the tale we are telling.<br />
<br />
Pick it apart,<br />
this is the moment that defines me,<br />
but this cannot appear in the story. <br />
<br />
We are selective regarding inclusion<br />
plaster over the cracks,<br />
paint the desired picture carefully,<br />
thinking about propriety.<br />
<br />
We will tell it warily<br />
if tell it we must and<br />
protect those who live in the past with us.Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-47977625463692093902012-05-09T17:27:00.001+02:002012-05-09T17:27:37.495+02:00Poem: An Irish StoryThis is not a sad story, <br />
this is something else, <br />
a small voice saying she is worth more but another going,<br />
‘ah go on, who do you think you are anyway?’<br />
<br />
Its Fr Ryan, and her Da and one particularly cruel teacher<br />
who used to take the ruler to her with no provocation.<br />
<br />
She is adept at pretending, <br />
the kids sitting outside the pub on Sundays<br />
and calling that an outing. <br />
She loves them practically, <br />
clean knickers and (mostly) full bellies,<br />
big loans from Tommo in number 6 for shiny white communion dresses,<br />
but the youngest has her heart broken all the same, <br />
what with the fucking language out of her<br />
and continuous summons up to see the Nuns <br />
who make her ashamed of the state of her best coat,<br />
sneering at the her, <br />
and no amount of smacking is any use in making her behave.<br />
<br />
Just like her mother, not having sense enough to shut up,<br />
mouth on her like a fecking fishwife, and useless to boot.<br />
<br />
She is ruthless in her rearing, <br />
dragging them up, <br />
mortgaging all her hopes on them getting the Leaving Cert.<br />
The eldest was pretty enough to be a model, <br />
before she got herself into all that trouble<br />
and ended up living down Stoneybatter <br />
with a mewling mouth to feed and dirty boots under her bed,<br />
so it was a waste of time, <br />
all the nagging her to get to her books.<br />
Jesus wept but she made eejits out of the lot of them, <br />
going around with that bump under her school jumper,<br />
such a clatter she got when it all came out, <br />
she’d had to drag the aulfella off her, <br />
damage done anyway.<br />
<br />
I’ll teach ye, ye little bitch, you’re nothing but a whore,<br />
riding God knows who and ye needn’t think it’s staying here.<br />
<br />
She used to have hopes for herself, <br />
a nice house in suburbs, <br />
maybe her own little job in a shop<br />
just for pocket money like, <br />
get her hair done the odd time, <br />
or bring the little ones for sticky buns,<br />
but that was before all the babys, <br />
one after the other, <br />
and he wouldn’t hear of using anything,<br />
saying it’s like washing your feet with your socks on, <br />
and no chance of the other, not with the cost of it.<br />
Once she joked he should tie a knot in it, <br />
and he left her eye black for a week, <br />
think you’re clever,<br />
she should of kept her gob shut anyway, <br />
by now she should know better.<br />
<br />
Sure theres a pair of them in it, always caterwauling,<br />
for all his fists, she's been known to take the frying pan to him.<br />
<br />
The neighbors gossip about her, <br />
there but for the grace of god<br />
but sure, what else would you expect from a scut like her?<br />
And those kids, <br />
out and about all hours destroying the peace,<br />
sure it's no wonder that they turned out the way they did,<br />
and her with her airs, <br />
her ma was a real lady muck too.<br />
God forgive me, <br />
she asks for it really, <br />
but that man leads her a dreadful life.<br />
<br />
Forgive me father for I have sinned, it's the thoughts in my head<br />
but Jesus knows things are bad, likely I'd be better off dead.<br />Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-37506119412661048322012-05-02T09:25:00.001+02:002012-05-02T09:25:28.085+02:00Poem: Glass AnimalsGlass animals casting rainbows on the wall<br>
And ceiling, I thought they were fairies,<br>
Dancing in the sunlight, the magic of them was spellbinding,<br>
When I was still just a little thing, at my beginnings.<br>
<br>
Later, I hung prisms in the window,<br>
Hoping that I could capture them again,<br>
But this city apartment does not let the light in,<br>
The walls remain grey, as is fitting.Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-5595270079302368252012-04-25T09:34:00.001+02:002012-04-25T09:34:24.412+02:00Poem: AfterwardsWe pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and try continuing. <br>
I have grey hat that makes my eyes look blue <br>
And four hundred and sixty three books gathering dust <br>
That swirls in the evening sunlight, as it always was. <br>
<br>
I launch myself into the evenings, the night is better, <br>
The days are getting longer and smothering us in light. <br>
I wear dark glasses and hide in the corner of the pub <br>
Waiting for the bitter sun to fade away. <br>
<br>
At midnight I come home and dance in the dark, <br>
I dream that I am flying over the city alone <br>
But when I wake my hands are clenched in fists, <br>
Head thumping and churning stomach sick. <br>
<br>
Whiskey in your morning coffee makes you warm, <br>
But the Winter is nearly over. I need to wear leather gloves <br>
So I do not touch the filth of the world, perhaps I can buy lace <br>
In summer colours, so it does not seem so strange. <br>
<br>
There are four thousand and seventy six paving stones between here and work, <br>
I am careful not to step on the cracks between them. Cobblestones are harder <br>
But I am trying to come up with another arrangement. <br>
Can you come back now please?<br>
<br>
Afterwards, I carefully saved up every moment, <br>
They are bottled and waiting in the corner, when you return <br>
We will open them and let time flow out, it will be like music. <br>
I do not make big wishes anymore.<br>Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-73094266700618673782012-04-23T09:43:00.000+02:002012-04-23T09:43:39.033+02:002011-05-02The bogeyman is dead.<br>
Can we have the world back now <br>
As it was? <br>
A time before we brought our children out <br>
To dance in the streets and celebrate the creation of a corpse. <br>
Can we have an end to wars with movie names <br>
And sending boys off to kill and die for slogans. <br>
Can we mourn without vengeance now. <br>Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615676016411897935.post-50127131472985221122012-03-31T10:34:00.002+02:002012-03-31T13:45:59.277+02:00Poem: Uncanny ValleyTicking clockwork roll of time, you unchanging <br />You and not you, little boy laugh<br />Replaced by this. Hallow eyed, <br />All darker now. I have found the right shape <br />Your exact size, built a tangle of turning cogs<br />That work, powered by missing you.<br />If I can perfect it, can find the right construction<br />You will rise from your seat, you will be here again. <br />I will take whatever version of you returns.<br />I want you back, for the death mask to light up,<br />Animate, your smile on that face will be the moment.<br />For now this mimesis must be enough. <br />In the ring of a bell, movement<br />I can see shades of you still living.Nothing Hummingbirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08373035531818513648noreply@blogger.com0