Fools Rush

Petal falls
Wind blown
Confetto.
Marking
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.

Streetlight

photo credit: Bold Frontiers Starry London Night via photopin (license)

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.

Down in the Tube Station

Day 7 of my review of the last twelve months and a poem about losing the rat race

Made of sticks and stones

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.

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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.