Yes

photo credit: rsmithing Amor Electrica via photopin (license)

photo credit: rsmithing Amor Electrica via photopin (license)

Many years ago, I remember watching a documentary in which they had film of John Lennon explaining how the first time he had walked into Yoko Ono’s gallery the first work he had seen had simply consisted of the word YES! John Lennon maintained that if it hadn’t been such an unequivocally positive message he wouldn’t have continued looking around the gallery and wouldn’t have met Yoko.

I don’t know if I’ve always viewed the word ‘Yes’ as such a positive, I think it is easy to say yes to something without wholeheartedly committing to it. Whether that is saying you will take the bins out, volunteering for a project at work or saying you will help a friend. I know for certain I’ve been guilty of saying yes, but secretly having my fingers crossed behind my back and hoping someone else will do it instead.

However, one thing I can definitely say is yes to the question – has this been a good year.

Of course I’m not unaware of all the horrible things that are happening all over the world, the political upheavals and uncertainties, and on a personal note I’ve probably had as many setbacks as a normal year.

Nothing has really changed apart from my attitude to the world. It might be that I have slipped into a comfort zone but my previous experience of comfort zones wasn’t at all comfortable, because I had the uncertainty of what the universe would do to me if I dared to move out of where I was. This current feeling is one of balance and positivity. Yes it definitely helps that I can give some focus to my creative projects and I’m no longer trying to be a paper thin imitation of someone and something else.

This might be an illusion, I might be as deluded now as I was eighteen months ago and still heading in the wrong direction with life. But the difference is that eighteen months ago I would not have answered the question ‘is life good?’ with the answer ‘YES’.

photo credit: jenny downing with every good wish via photopin (license)

photo credit: jenny downing with every good wish via photopin (license)

I’m taking a blogging and social media break over the festive period (working to complete my poetry collection Wreckage for release in Jan/Feb 2017), so apart from a few scheduled posts which will pop up over the next couple of weeks this is it until the New Year.

If you would like to read some more of my work you will find a couple of my poems, December Alone and Safe Inside, included in the Winter Magic collection on wattpad.

Winter Magic

Finally, I’d just like to wish you all a peaceful and restful couple of weeks, thanks for reading and have a great and positive 2017.

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Wyvern (or All I Want For Christmas)

photo credit: foxgrrl Anthrocon 2014 via photopin (license)

photo credit: foxgrrl Anthrocon 2014 via photopin (license)

I want a wyvern for Christmas.
I want a dragon of my own.
I want a wyvern for Christmas,
Oh why can’t I take a wyvern home?

Why won’t you buy a wyvern for me?
All my friends are getting one for Yule,
Easy to keep, no trouble it be –
Ohhh; don’t let me be a wyvernless fool.

I want a wyvern this Christmas.
It can live in the spare room.
I want a wyvern for Christmas –
A dragon-pal! Not a portent of doom.

I want a wyvern for Christmas.
I want a dragon of my own.
I want a wyvern for Christmas,
Oh why can’t I take a wyvern home?
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

 

Visualise

photo credit: begemot_dn tree time via photopin (license)

photo credit: begemot_dn tree time via photopin (license)

Dandelion clocks dance in the breeze
Like the time we spent together
Danced away from me.
The visions of you I keep in view,
Anchors of trust to which I’m tethered.
Vision of time now lost.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Unkempt

My emotions have become tangled;
My heart choked with weeds
And creepers of ivy squeeze,
Making it hard to breathe,
As they twist and turn growing
In and out of my lungs.
At times I forget how to feel
As I reel, buffeted by the dance of the wind.
This is what has become of me
Blinded by a vision of seeing a life
Without you.

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Tumbling

photo credit: kickize The graveyard via photopin (license)

photo credit: kickize The graveyard via photopin (license)

Tumbling snowflakes
Covering me, a blanket
Of winter conceals.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Skedaddled

photo credit: Sina Farhat Red red wine via photopin (license)

photo credit: Sina Farhat Red red wine via photopin (license)

The lights are low,
The atmosphere convivial.
A hubbub of sound
From the jukebox
Fills the room.

A group of hazy faces
Swims in and out of view,
And a posse of discarded bottles
Surrounds us all in this gloom.
A faceless wonder gets up unsteady

Weaves across to the bar,
Turns back around like a magic act
A million more drinks
Held in his hands.
It seems this quiet night

Has descended into debauchery.
I should’ve ran for home,
But that was twenty years ago,
Now it’s too late to escape
This happy band’s skulduggery.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Resonance

photo credit: Natalia Medd Passage via photopin (license)

photo credit: Natalia Medd Passage via photopin (license)

Within the sadness; madness of this world,
Silence can sound the loudest
Within the chambers of my mind.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Quiver

I feel your breath upon my neck,
The gentle caress of your lips.
Your finger traces down my spine,
Your touch is gentle,
Like the brush of a feather
Yet the sensation is sublime.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Pandemonium

photo credit: Emily Raw  via photopin (license)

photo credit: Emily Raw via photopin (license)

It’s a plaything in your hands,
This body and soul of mine.
Heart beating faster,
This fierce longing
Is beyond my control.
And simply in passing by
You take my heartstrings,
You take my mind away.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Nothing

I keep hearing that song.
That song you played
When you were still something.
When you were still alive.

I remember you placing
Your hand in mine, trusting
You had the moments left
To do anything.

You had your whole life.
A million breathes to take,
A whole life and everything.
When you were still alive.
 

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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