photo credit: Marie-Baeten The Son of Clouds via photopin (license)
Summer sky,
Obscured by grey,
The sun won’t be
Coming out today.
The clouds appear
Here to stay.
The summer sun
Has blown away.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: amsterdamfan My Own Insanity via photopin (license)
If we should drown
Then we should drown together.
If these emotions should overwhelm.
If these waves should overturn,
Should capsize this flimsy craft.
Send me down to Davy Jones.
If the Arctic current of an icy sea
Should wrap its frigid limbs about the fragility of me.
I ask no more than to stretch out my hand
To feel my fingers entwined with yours.
To know, that we will go down together.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Wind-blown,
Secrets fly like the night
On wings of darkness.
To a rhythm nobody feels
And even less see.
Nature lies,
As natural as breathing.
Until death comes stealing,
Creeping, out of an obsidian glass poured.
The fatal blow dealt.
Undreamed.
Poisons and pains. Panic
Flies on the wings of a bat
Chittering, repeating its refrain, sings
Of ‘Secrets and Lies’, of ‘Secrets and Lies’.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
A man took a bus
Went searching for his heart.
He’d left his home of forty years,
Packed a bag – filled it with memories
And assorted other dusts.
He watched as the driver pulled out into traffic
And joined the motorway.
He watched as everything he’d ever believed
Dwindled through the window
Of a bus bound to nowhere. Until all that was left
Was a collection of smudges on the glass.
Like a dim, shadowed, constellation of stars.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
I watch the waves with the sound turned down,
Safe on my sofa, anaesthetised from the drama.
While the News Reporter mouths pleasantries about the disaster.
Meanwhile in the background, out of focus,
The island slowly sinks beneath the surface.
Out of mind, swallowed by the sea.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: Thomas James Caldwell Breeding Ground via photopin (license)
The breeze wakes the day.
Light shivers leaves on the trees.
While Dark’s servants bask
In lingering pools of night,
Before her veil’s cast aside.
A seductive dance
Betwixt the heavens and earth;
The moon and the sun.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
The chill shock of the spring rain
Soaks me to the skin.
To the bones of me;
The place where the I begins.
Rooted in this barren ground
Petrified by the memories,
And the past I have buried within.
For I prayed to hold my mysteries
And take them to my grave.
For what does man have but his sins.
His secret companions in the dark
With the fatal poison of their sting.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: gusdiaz “Courage doesn’t always roar. via photopin (license)
Don’t tell me that the
Moon is shining while I’m still
Too busy crying.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: farenough Abandoned Morris Island Lighthouse. Built in 1876 and out of use since the 1960’s. [Folly Beach, SC] via photopin (license)
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
