Leaving Block – Leftovers – September 2010
Frustration simmers
shapes a bright day
inadequate windbreak
neither shelters
nor allows
clean wind of passion.
Dear God
What happened to a person
Who calls a kalashnikov
“My Beauty”?
The sun rises
The sun sets
Projected power hunts reasons
Cannot sit still
Or feel the earth turn
Measuring time.
Rope clacks noisily on the flag post
Remember: dustbin lids
Clang in the night
Warning, Warning, trust lost.
When first the soldiers came
they were welcomed
Peacekeepers for better life
Then their own fear bloodied their hands
Hands caressed guns, fisted faces.
Taught us peace here
is only for the dead.
One night when the cat got locked out
It rained.
She fell into the neighbour’s newly dug
foundation ditch.
After she managed to cry loud enough, long enough,
I spent the rest of the night
crouched on the kitchen floor,
wielding the hairdryer.
Only remember my Irishness
When I am in America
A troubled zone
Irrational, religious.
Do I feel division in the air?
God almighty
Hone this social suffering no more.
Poetry of Moods and Moments 