Little England

photo credit: neiljs London snow via photopin (license)

Of worrisome weather,
Caught between hello and goodbye.
A day that don’t know
If it’s coming or going.
Came in like a lamb
But now it’s having trouble deciding
Whether to go out on the town
Or out with a bang.

A blizzard is blowing
Down High Street and byways
And icicle tears
Are stinging my cheeks.
Next moment it is raining,
Chasing the white flakes away.
While the sun is claiming
A leave of absence
From the muck and the grime.
Escaping grey little England
For the lake and the beach.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

High Rise

Scurrying drones
The people down there,
Hardly human –
Motives lost
Within the hive mentality.
Cries of fear, pain, anger, rage;
Do not rise beyond the miasma
Of traffic fumes.
By the mob,
Individuality lost
In the rain.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.



photo credit: Untitled blue Outside my eye via photopin (license)

I’ve written a thousand poems to you

Yet I’ve never found the words …
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


Wind Chills

photo credit: Tim @ Photovisions Frozen Pond via photopin (license)

The sun shines down,
Crowning the ice upon the pond
With a transient halo.

Shimmers of translucence
Shiver in the frigid air,
Whisper of nothing.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Grey Cloud Fugue

photo credit: docoverachiever Indecisive weather via photopin (license)

And the dark clouds roll across the sky.

It is beautiful, but it makes me want to die.

The beauty of those impenetrable clouds

That could swallow me whole like a funeral shroud.

Swaddle me in a mystery from which I could not escape.

Smother me in their motion, erase the memories of my fate.


© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Stone Cold

photo credit: Ciara-Angela Engelhardt when the bass is ruling her heart via photopin (license)

Absolute zero or near enough
To make no difference
To the state of the union.
Nothing changes, it’s what we’re used to.
We’ve endless patience
Lying here in the deep freeze.
Siberian nights, and even colder days.
Our hearts have frozen over
This is our own personal ice age.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Body Language

photo credit: ShanePix Of Angels and Angles! via photopin (license)

Lingering glances
Towards the door
Through which
You are aching to leave.

I want you to stay
But I’ve seen the signs.
Never again
Will you be aching for me.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Deep Rooted

photo credit: Stanisław Krawczyk abstract 1 via photopin (license)

This lethargy roots me to the ground,

Ties me down. Anchors me here

Unable to escape these mistakes.

Forces me to watch as the drama unfolds

Like leaves on a tree in the first light of spring.


© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Moon Eye

photo credit: Rodrigo_Soldon alvorada via photopin (license)

Moon ‘I’ floating on a sea of clouds –
Greeting the fire that waits just beyond the horizon.
I leave the watch of my Midnight Ones to you
O child of flame, my fierce burning son.
I glimpse your restless desire
From across the depths of heaven

That fate decrees should break my heart, asunder.
I forever in the shadow of the passion
That gives your hours their meaning.
Bearer of my hopes and fears I give breath to you
That break the silence of the dark with unblemished light;
As I lay down my head, and close my eyes to dream.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

This Will Be the Moment (New Year Breaking)

photo credit: h.koppdelaney Empty Cage via photopin (license)

This will be the day
This’ll be the moment
I’m breaking these bonds,
Tearing down these cages.

This will be the hour,
To the very second.
I’ll open my mouth,
For the first time
You’ll hear me rage

Shouting from the rooftops.
Gonna shed these shackles.
Kicking over holy idles.
Tumbling your truths
Down into the dust.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.