Stone Cold

photo credit: Ciara-Angela Engelhardt when the bass is ruling her heart via photopin (license)

Absolute zero or near enough
To make no difference
To the state of the union.
Nothing changes, it’s what we’re used to.
We’ve endless patience
Lying here in the deep freeze.
Siberian nights, and even colder days.
Our hearts have frozen over
This is our own personal ice age.
 
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Crossing the Rubicon (Small Mercy)

Here’s the offering for Day 11

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: eduardomineo 26/7/2009 via photopin(license)

Mercy.

Pleading to be heard
Within these four walls,
Outside in the world.

Senses
Overloaded,
Hiatus
Deserved.

Searching for the right words,
In these pages
Reaching out to the world.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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These Ships

For 8 November we have a poem about new starts and the lives and people we leave behind.

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: Immagini 2&3D The Land of the Brian Boru via photopin(license)

These ships are sailing
Leaving behind everything we’ve ever known.
The lights, the familiar sights are receding,
Departures sadness as the horizon
Hides us from home.

These boats,
These boats we are burning.
For these bones will not be buried
Beneath the turf of our island home.

The surf and the waves
And the storms on the seas,
And the funnel cloud of infernal steam.
Take me away,
Borne away from where I long to be.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Forgotten

I am small
Neglected and broken
Put aside
In favour of newer toys
Bright and shiny
Presents unwrapped
But it would be wrong
To throw me away
And misplace the memory
Of the adventures
That we imagined together
And the games we have played

© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally published 13 March 2016

These Ships

photo credit: Immagini 2&3D The Land of the Brian Boru via photopin (license)

These ships are sailing
Leaving behind everything we’ve ever known.
The lights, the familiar sights are receding,
Departures sadness as the horizon
Hides us from home.

These boats,
These boats we are burning.
For these bones will not be buried
Beneath the turf of our island home.

The surf and the waves
And the storms on the seas,
And the funnel cloud of infernal steam.
Take me away,
Borne away from where I long to be.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Crossing the Rubicon (Small Mercy)

photo credit: eduardomineo 26/7/2009 via photopin (license)

Mercy.

Pleading to be heard
Within these four walls,
Outside in the world.

Senses
Overloaded,
Hiatus
Deserved.

Searching for the right words,
In these pages
Reaching out to the world.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Low Tide

photo credit: Crunchy Footsteps Tidepooling in La Jolla- tide coming in via photopin (license)

photo credit: Crunchy Footsteps Tidepooling in La Jolla- tide coming in via photopin (license)

Wave after wave,
This life of leavings and goodbyes.
No crescendo just diminuendo,
Petering out into silent partings
And solitary sighs.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Overturn

photo credit: Natalia Medd Wrapped in Winter via photopin (license)

photo credit: Natalia Medd Wrapped in Winter via photopin (license)

This is the leaving time, the dying of the light.
Winter fires may wait to burn the last embers of the old away.
In anticipation of the new emerging from these dark nights
Like a phoenix from the ashes. But this is the leaving,
The last post, and we are all prisoners of this dying season.
Hopes are all gone awry, it is too late to put things right.
Winter’s child has wrapped us in her embrace.
Her cold, dead arms encircle us.
No chance to overturn the order,
Season must follow season, we cannot overthrow
We must suffer winter’s tyranny again.
The glacial kiss of the unforgiving season.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

That Chaos Thing

So you’re gone again
Taken your light and headed home
At the first hint of tears.
As if you fear you’ll melt in the rain.
But you still want me to pretend
That it’s all about you,
That the planets and the asteroids
Are just hanging around
With nothing better to do.
For the butterfly to flutter a wing,
You know that chaos thing you do.
Shouting out to the universe to stop it all
Complaining about all that crazy emotion and gravity
That you claim is dragging you down.
Putting the blame on me,
Expecting me to carry the weight.
But I can’t, not this time.
It is not visible in my stars I think
Not now that gravity has moved me on
And the eclipse has hidden you from view.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Endings

photo credit: The Grassy Knoll via photopin All rights reserved by the author

photo credit: The Grassy Knoll via photopin All rights reserved by the author

End things with a sunrise.
Make this finale
A new chapter.
For a new day has begun.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.