The Missing Pieces

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The silhouette still hides the soul.
The target can blind you
To the meaning of the goal.
And the missing pieces make you forget
How complete is your imperfect whole.

Though you may shatter, curse yourself
With seven years of bad luck
Pick yourself up. Ask for a little help.
Remember riches are weighed
In more than just their value as wealth.

All blessings glitter, not only silver and gold.
What is the day, without the night.
What is the warmth, without some cold.
What is the smile if not watered by a single tear.
What am I if separated from this troubled soul.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

I Will Not Go Down

“there is a crack in everything,

that is how the light gets in.”

Leonard Cohen

I will not go down,
These depths must be the deepest.
While this darkness is at its completest
I will hold fast. I will make a spark.
I will last out until dawn.
Until I can feel the warmth and the light
And this body becomes real to me again.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Fools Rush

Petal falls
Wind blown
The passage
Of time.
From winter
To spring,
Then headlong
Rush into summer.
Then before you know
It’ll all start
Over again.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


Out of my mind
Storm clouds gather.
A forgetful rage
Like a mist descending.
Obscuring mists
In the winds.
All hope is lost.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Wounds of Night

photo credit: Kevin M. Gill Horsehead Nebula via photopin (license)

To me,
To me all the time.
Nearer to me all the time.
Like rays of darkness,
The blinding shafts of night
Hold me close.
Hold me closer,
Closer than the dark
That waits to destroy
The fears.

The spiralling void
Inside of the darkness.
Like a spider’s web
I bind myself with its lies.
In a shimmering gossamer deceit
Wound about me.
Tighter, ever tighter,
Tightening all the time.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

In Reverie

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The sunlight through the window frame,
Casting spells writes in shadows
Drawing religious symbols on your naked skin,
As you lay in a reverie upon my bed.
You are real, I know it. For I still feel the wound
Of the raw impression, you have drawn in scarlet upon my soul.
Yet you lay there as innocent as the morning
Leaving barely your outline upon the sheet.
And, I fear that if you wake you will get up and walk away.
As fleeting as a breath of morning air.
That life will continue as before almost as if you were never there.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Internal Combustion

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This engine power always
Fails me at the wrong time,
Just as I reach the hardest part of the climb.
When the destination is almost in sight,
Beyond the next incline, around the next bend.
So far, I have done everything right,
So it seems. I have come much farther than before, after all.
But still, here am I marooned so near to the end
When I have almost earned my reward. To see the place with the clearest view.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


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Dark shadows, disembodied voices
Floating in the night,
This world beyond the window.

In fragments of modern art –
Bright lights and disappointment.
In search of answers

When there never was any meaning.
Just this spiralling deceit
Diverting us down one-way streets.

Twilight whispers
Spark tongues of flame.
Yet unaware, we stay the same.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

King of the Ruin

photo credit: National Library of Ireland on The Commons Lead kindly light… via photopin (license)

Ruin reigns
In this kingdom of lovers.
This wasteland of flowers,
This aching place
That makes my heart skip a beat;
With the Shadow Moon ascendant
That made me complete.
For I’ve finally learned
That I needed your tide to ebb away
And maroon me here.
Now I can live again
For I’m finally free.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


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I cannot contain this existence
Within a single soul
A unified whole
When I do not know
Where these wings will take me
Or if the footsteps of the future
Will shake the ground from beneath my feet
If the environment will force me to transform
Into something different
Brand new
So do not ask me
Where I have come from
For how can I know
For the past has changed me
I am different than I was then
And I may change once again

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.