photo credit: h.koppdelaney The Observer via photopin (license)

Wind blown,
Without these city walls.
In the dark
No torch to light the way
I stumble
And I fall.
I rise,
No recollection
Whether this blood is my own.

Blood on my hands
Match the stains on my soul.
But I do not know
Whether I still have
A soul to call my own.
For I have bartered
Everything I have ever owned,
For the chance
To walk alone
In the dark,
Outside these city walls.

The raven and the wolf
Walk in their own dark
Parallel to me.
And I can feel them out there in the shadowland,
But our paths will never cross
Just move on in parallel for eternity.
I hear them
In the silences that reign
In the ages between each breath.
I hear the wolf howling
And hope that my brother
Still howls for me.
While the raven’s wingbeats
Echo up into heaven’s
Eternal emptiness
Sounding the death knell
For what might have been.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

A Theory of Everything


photo credit: new 1lluminati naked singularity via photopin (license)

The world is always going to let you down.
That’s what gravity is
Millennia of disappointment
Tying people to the ground.

The stars don’t know why they are shining;
The planets don’t know where they are going,
They haven’t got a clue,
They’re just wandering round and round

And round and round.
Restless nomads stumbling blindly in the dark,
Fumbling for enlightenment, for meaning,
Unaware of what surrounds.
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally published 13 April 2017

Shapes in the Trees

photo credit: ®DS Fading Lines via photopin (license)

photo credit: ®DS Fading Lines via photopin (license)

All just faces amongst the trees.
These illusions we don’t want to believe.
The madness and violence of dreams –
Insomniac visions, streetlight projection on walls,
Winter winds stirring the childhood bogeyman to life again.
Night flights, fever and tears, evils that breed in my mind.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


photo credit: Pascal Volk Explosia [Explored 2016-08-22] via photopin (license)

photo credit: Pascal Volk Explosia [Explored 2016-08-22] via photopin (license)

The silence of this season
Completes me.
The Night holds me in her arms,
The darkness drapes her body:
Caresses my feeling in the coldness
Of her ebony being.
I plunge into the heart of her,
And in falling I shine.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


Day 13 of my review and a poem about the things in the darkness…

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: - via photopin (license) photo credit: via photopin(license)

Floating, floating
In the darkness
Of the forever night,
The silence
Is within me
My touch like ice.

Floating, floating
On this ocean
By the land.
Beneath the waves
To escape the jealous
Touch of man.

This death song,
Its kiss of chaos,
Floating With the driftwood
On this midnight sea.
Floating, forever floating
Amongst the bodies
Silently mouthing
Their requiem

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

View original post

Sadness (Summertime)

photo credit: dead red via photopin (license)

photo credit: dead red via photopin (license)

Gathering of tears,
Obsidian, shroud of feeling
Keeping us apart,
That sun and I.

In shadow hides the fear.
Scarlet warning
Of the dangers.
Between the sun and I

The weight I bear,
Darkness waiting.
Shunned by the light
In the setting of the sun.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Creak on the Stairs

Hush dry your eyes
The armies of night
Won’t break down the door.

Everything will be alright
The dawn is just hours away
The light in the sky
Is coming to play.

But first check under the bed
For any ghoul that slipped through
The crack in the wall.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.