As Fatal As the Night

photo credit: Claude-Yolande La robe bleue via photopin (license)

When it comes to leaving
I’m like the tide
Full of good intentions
But returning by and by.

When it comes to changing
I’m like the butterfly
Finally finding a form I like
Only to give it up and die.

When it comes to emotions
I’m as fickle as a kite
Battling the demon wind
Only to lose the fight.

I’m as seductive as the shadows
Dispersed by the liar’s shine.
Illuminated by the truth wishing
That everything will work out fine.

When it comes to hoping
I’m like the pain
That makes it feel like I’m dying
When I get caught out in the rain.

When it comes to trying
I’m like the stone
Unmoved by storms and snows
But dreaming of a home.

When it comes to shadows
I’m like the night,
Full of unseen terrors
Hiding from the light.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Keeping Faith

photo credit: Fan.D & Dav.C Photgraphy The stars are best seen in the darkest moments. via photopin (license)

Reach out, touch the chill void –
Holding out and hoping
For some kind of sign.
That will stop me from falling
Further into the dark
Between the future and the past.

To the place where the silence hesitates
And all my misdemeanours wait
For memory to recall.
For the sins and sacraments
Of my fragile belief in this reality
To begin again, to believe in me.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Long Forgotten

photo credit: AegirPhotography The Excelsior I via photopin (license)

I cannot express if this is sorrow.
This emptiness can feel like all I am.
I no longer dream, not for a long time
Hope has long deserted that treacherous harbour.
My soul has become like a ghost town,
Light has departed, set sail from the shore.

I am hollow, I am a wasteland,
The twisted wreckage of an invisible child.
An orphan of time and tide, marooned
In the shadow of the meeting
Of that which might-have-been.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Empty Cages

photo credit: sjkln Behind the gate via photopin (license)

We went to the zoo today.
We saw the cockroaches at play.
Elephant and rhino have gone,
Of the panda there is only one.
Empty cages in the zoo today.
 
© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 13 August 2017

Make-Believers

 

photo credit: donnierayjones Thinking Inside the Box via photopin (license)

To the pretenders,
The make-believers,
The dresser-uppers,
The dreamers,
This goes out to you.
The singers,
The poets,
The actors,
The writers,
For making dreams come true.
Those artists
And dancers
Making it up,
Making believe it’s come true.
To everyone out there, thank you.
 
© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 29 March 2017

Floating Away

photo credit: forum.linvoyage.com Bright sunset at Andaman sea via photopin (license)

photo credit: forum.linvoyage.com Bright sunset at Andaman sea via photopin (license)

In my mind, I’m on a beach somewhere,

Warm seas, with azure waves tempting me.

Gravity has no hold. I have no cares

I have escaped. My mind has set me free.

 

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

 

Originally Published 1 February 2017

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Deluded

photo credit: stimpsonjake In Our Upside-Down World via photopin (license)

photo credit: stimpsonjake In Our Upside-Down World via photopin (license)

Why is the rain cold,
What does the sky contain
For us, is it the future foretold.
Is the sun up there
Swaddled in blankets of cloud.
Does the sun care, has it departed.
Is it a stone-hearted deserter
Run away from our worries,
Our directionless scurry. Back and forth,
Avoiding individual raindrops
But drenched by the downpour.
 
© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 16 October 2016

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The Parting Glass

If angels should pass upon this road
After I’ve long departed.
If you should hear them in the night
In the rustling of the leaves.
If you should speak with one of them,
Its voice, a half-remembered sound.
If they should ask,
What did his days on Earth achieve.
Then raise a glass with the angels
And speak only of the good times.
If after I have gone
You should ever think of me.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 14 September 2015

A Dot on the Screen

A dot on the TV screen
Disappearing into infinity,
The lights blinking out.
4am, insomnia rules.

Outside the closed curtain
The fox roams the street alone
As the approaching dawn
Creeps closer. The night time is ending

A new day is descending.
Skeletal hands squeeze tighter
Around the throat of the world,
The dark breathes its last.

Fox scuttles away for the shelter of the shadows
A nocturnal creature immune to the lure
Of the beckoning day.
The great pretending that awaits

My sleepless body.
I think of the fox asleep in her den
As I splash ice water onto my face
Washing away the pretence of sleep from my eyes.

How happy for her
To escape into the earth
Away from the pain exposed
To the scrutiny of the sun.

The make-believe world of the insomniac
Of having to say “I’m okay”, when I’m not.
When I know if I could only sleep
There’d be a chance I could dream this pain away.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 9 September 2016

Hush

Susurrus,
Wind kisses upon the water.

The breeze stirs the leaves of the willow,
Moving like the fingertips of a dancer would.
Elegant branches,
Limbs of an acrobat, sway
Dipping low agitating the mirror calm
Of the tranquil pool.

Elemental water and sylvan spirit of living wood
Allowed to commune,
Within this companion silence.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 6 August 2016