From the Belly of the Beast

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I have a strange, uneasy feeling,
A tsunami of emotion
Raining down on me.
A love/hate thing
Tearing me apart.
From the inside,
From the depths
Deep within the dark.
A wave of shadow –
Creature from my subterranean soul –
My other self, this unquiet heart.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Knowhere

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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.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 31 May 2019

Progression

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Fall or rise I go on.
Like the ebb and flow of the wave
Lit by the light of moon or sun.
I am the note of the lament or the soaring duet.
I cannot be silenced, I sing my song.
Battered and bruised by erosion
I am the mountain, standing tall in the storm;
I go on.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Goodbye, In So Many Words

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Silence stretches into hours
Like taut threads straining in a hurricane
On darkening streets lashed by rain and hail.
A chorus of broken hearts are the storm winds
Howling with tears. Echoing through walls
Aching within the symphony of silence
Of an abandoned home.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Peripheral

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As long as I know you are at the edge of my view.
Somewhere where the mirages meet my dreams
In the wee small hours when no one is awake to witness my tears.

Out there in the distance, lost on the far horizon
A shadow secret known only to these four walls and my teddy bear.
That you are the wave that will overcome my fears.

As long as I know, then I can cope with the visions
And the nightmares tearing my hopes apart.
For beyond the limits of the frame I know, there is an end to the lonely years.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

A Liquid Reality

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What if ripples in the water
Were a disturbance of my being.
Feelings agitated as easily
As my reflection upon the surface of the lake.
A stone thrown into my depths
Shattering the icy charade of normality
Constructed to deceive.
What if I was as transitory as the breeze
That blew across the water
Or spring showers or the fall of autumn leaves.
What if my reflection possessed
More reality than I’ve ever dreamed.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

In Absentia: Part 2

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And between the dreaming and the waking,
I feel something in me is breaking.
For I no longer see to the other side
And the cracks just get wider and wider.
Because while it is the lies that will let me down
It is among a sea of truths that I will drown.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

The Green Man

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The windblown leaves of my cloak
Fluttered in the gentlest of breezes
As I made my way through the wood.
I had not passed this way
For a thousand years or more.
The trees and I whispered
In a language only we could hear,
Only we could understand.
The shade of the branches,
The cool of the green leaf
Reached out for me.
Our roots entwined
As we drank of the earth
The trees and I,
And gave our bounty to the sky.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Morning Eyes

Slivers of light, slivers of sky,
Contrails flying across my view
Upturned like a smile.
Blues and greys, mist and haze,
Memories of another place.
Wrapped within different sheets
Dreaming of a distant daze.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Kiss of Life

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Stood upon the hilltop
Looking down.
The whole world laid out
Before me, all around,
Like pieces in a game.
The whole of life paused
As if waiting for my touch.
For this kiss of life,
A resumption of the play.
For the wind to blow again.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.