Weary body tries
stifling yawning sighs.
Droopy heavy eyes.
Needing you.
Craving you.
Longing for you.
Yearning to drift
to your soft caress.
Vital reboot
halving my breaths.
Glorious sleep,
mysterious deep.
Closest thing to heaven
we’ll ever know.
kevinbrennan
Hi My name is Kevin Brennan and this is my first time doing the poetry marathon. I am from Dublin Ireland. I am currently working on my second novel, a science fiction story that starts in the present and goes fifty years into a utopian future where the human race saves itself and the planet thanks to a worldwide shift in attitude. My nickname comes from the title of my first book Gurriers. I perform poetry in The International Bar in Dublin every Wednesday at a fantastic event called Dublin's Underground Beat. This is a music and poetry open mike night where all artists are welcome. We get lots of overseas talent. Last night we had a poet from Chicago, a blues guitarist from Salt Lake City and a harmonica player from Germany. Any poets who come to Ireland should come and join us for a session.
Doubt
Remember the compliments,
forget the insults.
Nobody’s a bigger critic than you.
Feed your confidence,
starve your doubt
the same way that champions do.
Doubt is a beast that dwells within,
a parasite that you must control.
The most important battle to win
is the inner clash with this asshole.
Listen closely to your friends,
ignore the trolls who give you grief.
You will beat doubt with confidence
you’ll kick his ass with self belief.
All this time
Her eyes follow him
as he shifts position,
reacting as he reacts to her.
Eyes that jump with joy to meet
and always have
for so many years.
She waits til he settles
before she whispers
“It wasn’t too bad, was it Sam?”
“Well, the first twenty five years
were touch and go,but
the next twenty five made up for it.”
She coughs a weak laugh
he touches her hand.
The merest touch
but it’s enough
for powerful emotion
on a well run course.
She smiles softly
then closes her eyes.
He’ll never make her laugh again.
He feels her hand cool
as she drifts away from him
after all this time.
William Butler Yeats
“An aged man is but a paltry thing,
a tattered coat upon a stick unless
soul clap it’s hands and sing and louder sing…”
Yeats caught my attention when I was young
and he sailing to Byzantium.
His skill with words, the power of his feelings,
his imagery, all hugely appealing.
The pride of Ireland, a national treasure,
a gifted one by which greats can measure
how they compare to my fellow Irish man,
this monument we fly a flag on.
So thanks WB for these feelings inside,
for instilling this feeling of national pride,
for making me feel a fraction more worthy
‘cos you are from the same place as me.
Need
Barely noticeable
but beyond significance.
Five frail fingers
tiny and scared
needing me so.
Your hand in mine.
Time to act
For a moment, he thought he heard
a woman’s voice…
the wisdom of the ages…
whispering up from the chasms of the earth.
A chill scurried up his clammy spine
as he caught- real or imagined
– a faint air of foreboding.
A vaguely perceived warning
like words in the wind
that exist in the mind.
Self doubts arguement
to a tricky decision.
His finger hovered still,
an eternity now.
Shaky handed second guessing
and it’s invisible barrier of indecision.
Courage to act,
courage to do.
His vow to himself.
His reason.
His logic.
“This must be!”
He pushed the send button
and it was done.
Nice proverbs
Be nice to your parents,
one day they’ll be gone forever.
Be nice to your siblings,
they’re the ones most likely
to stick with you
through thick and thin.
It’s nice to be important,
but it’s more important to be nice.
Be nice to people on the way up the ladder,
they’re the ones you’ll need the most
on your way down.
Have a nice day!
Not before the cat
Nine years and five days ago
a glorious gift from two great parents
brought digital music to my world
with an ipod- best ever birthday present.
A true marvel of the modern day.
More sounds than I thought I’d have ever.
Portable, versatile, user friendly,
robust and sturdy- could last forever!
I love using playlists, for tasks and moods,
creating and shaping them from day one,
for playing darts or preparing food,
focused for writing or dancing for fun.
The ipod is my most valued possession,
in crisis the first to which I would go,
if in the house a fire was raging,
after I’d thrown the cat out the window.
Screengrab sonnet
Gently rustling leaves
dance delightfully
as if there’s a sneeze
tickling the beech tree.
The playful wink of the rising sun
finds me in the same position
as when the frown of the setting one
departed for dark abandon.
I make for a dishevelled sight,
stiff and cramped, creaky an’ all,
but I’ve been writing poetry all night
and inside I’m feeling ten feet tall.
Gratitude, respect and admiration
for this amazing marathon.
Return to sexual activity.
Happy
Achy
Thrust muscles.