Hello Yesterday

photo credit: sleepyjeanie Defined by Time. via photopin (license)

photo credit: sleepyjeanie Defined by Time. via photopin (license)

Hello yesterday, have you returned.
That dress is faded now
But recognisably the same.
And the shame I feel in your presence
Has never, ever, changed.
You are the lover I can never leave.
The paramour I can’t be parted from.
You are Yesterday. My regret.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Winter Moon

photo credit: Charlie Day DaytimeStudios Supermoon and Clouds via photopin (license)

photo credit: Charlie Day DaytimeStudios Supermoon and Clouds via photopin (license)

Whose is the moon

That floats on high;

That lights my way

On winter nights,

That sails above

And reflects below.

Whose is the moon?

Not mine, I cry.

TL-Clouds-Moon-713-47 

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 3 January 2015

Save

Save

Siren Blue (Dreams)

photo credit: bdrc 宋凝 via photopin (license)

photo credit: bdrc 宋凝 via photopin (license)

I can’t remember what it is,
This ocean of memory
In which I’ve got lost.
A natural phenomena,
Drifting, flying, falling, dying.
I’m a stranger in this kingdom
So far from home.

I can’t see a solution,
A way out
Of this maze of confusion.
This song of the stratosphere:
Drowning, crying, calling, dying.
Dream keeper of this kingdom
I can’t call home.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Frozen in Fury

photo credit: Paladin27 Winter Watch via photopin (license)

photo credit: Paladin27 Winter Watch via photopin (license)

January is cold; barren season
That life has left a hollow shell.
Only decay can keep a death beat
Where once hearts in rhythm called ‘All’s well!’
Now chaos grows in frozen darkness
Ice warriors of this living hell.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Night Terrors

photo credit: Historias Visuales Una grave locura via photopin (license)

photo credit: Historias Visuales Una grave locura via photopin (license)

Between the dusk and the dawn.
Between the freeze and the thaw.
The barren tears and the tremors of love,
The nights spent alone with you in my bed
And delights of moments stolen, realities unsaid.
The psychosis of you, split in two;
The living hell, loving soul,
Raging madly together in a maelstrom
With your night terrors gnawing at your soul.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Loki’s Moment

photo credit: liqube White Out via photopin (license)

photo credit: liqube White Out via photopin (license)

Sky walking, cloud scudding
Quickly, disbelieving
The blue turns – dark’ning grey.
Wind of the north, fierce cold
Breaths with wicked intent,
His dissent – mischief snow.

© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Libretto

I

photo credit: Historias Visuales Viajera silenciosa via photopin (license)

photo credit: Historias Visuales Viajera silenciosa via photopin (license)

I may have the words
But the music has escaped from me.
I may know the steps
But the dance has left my feet.
I may have had you once
But that was another day,
Another picture of decay.
II

Metamorphosis:
Say something else, before voices flee
Running timid from
Reality. Bleeding on these streets
For the word crimes. Passionate
Execution of the grey
And the virgin’s vision – decay.
 

photo credit: zeitfaenger.at Teatro abbandonato via photopin (license)

photo credit: zeitfaenger.at Teatro abbandonato via photopin (license)

© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Save

Wandering and Lost

photo credit: KevHaworthPhotography Wreckage On The Wyre via photopin (license)

photo credit: KevHaworthPhotography Wreckage On The Wyre via photopin (license)

Wandering,
A spirit adrift.

Marooned, this sea surrounds,
No way forward,
No way out.

And I have forgotten
What it is I seek.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Down in the Tube Station

photo credit: Sophie.Dituri All that Shimmers via photopin (license)

photo credit: Sophie.Dituri All that Shimmers via photopin (license)

Is this your bridal gown
Or a burial shroud?
The worries of the world
Weighing you down.
The nine to five heartache
Of another Monday commute.
Saturday morning, five more minutes
Under the covers,
Seems like a lifetime away.
A smudge of mascara,
Congealed with sleep, in the corner of your eye.
Difficult to tell apart
From the soot and pollution down here
In this metropolitan underworld.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Circus

photo credit: vk-red Transfiguration III via photopin (license)

photo credit: vk-red Transfiguration III via photopin (license)

I’m waiting for the clowns
I haven’t seen them yet,
They should be here
To share in my regret.

Up there in the shadows,
Up there in the Gods,
The mountebanks are lurking,
The ones you all adore.
Those liars with their silence
Drown out the sound of the applause.

But there should be clowns here.
Not just whiskey fears and cigarettes.
There should be clowns
To help me to forget.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.