Moss Words

photo credit: John Brighenti Moss on a Log via photopin (license)

Lichen on rocks,
Scars, marks of winter
Writ large upon the trees,

That lines the path
That wanders away
From the cabin door.

Sentinel strangers
This time of year,
For there is nothing to believe in

When the trees are not in bloom.
The forest is a stranger
When the green leaf goes.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

When All of This Was Fields

photo credit: pni Sky Eyed Mammoth via photopin (license)

I can sense the breathing of the city
Even though the windows and the curtains are closed.

I’m doing everything I can to shut out the light,
Yet I know the city keeps right on living all around me,
Hemming me in. Cocooned within glass and steel
A manufactured being in a designer prison that is all too real.

I can’t stand this conditioned air, the sterile thoughts
And pretending to be civilised enough for this society.
For how it plugs me into its desires,
The pleasure centre stimuli.

For all the antiseptic pollutants that it uses to subdue me
Are not enough recompense for what this city demands of me.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

All Together

photo credit: quirkybird Goddess Series: Ma’at via photopin (license)

Stripped of everything but my soul,
Naked, nothing left to identify my mortal remains
But the record of my conduct here on earth.
All accoutrements of wealth, all holy symbols of my false religions,
All gone now.
All shields, all swords, I’ll have no more protections.
No magic spells are left to save me
Just an account of my actions
Where they weigh a feather against my sins.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


photo credit: Robert Couse-Baker without a trace via photopin (license)

After the storm, when the rage has subsided
A dead calm takes over. A false dawn is my fear,
As frightening as the storm in its way.
For you expect me to speak first,
To return things to normal. As if there is no wreckage,
No cargo to salvage and no survivors to be found.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


photo credit: Bharath Kishore Yin Yang – Eclipse via photopin (license)

Two merging into one
As you wrap your arms about me.
It has inevitability,
It starts a chain reaction.
Electron excitation –
Two celestial bodies
In a slow dance,
Ever closer.
Merging into one.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


photo credit: The Abbey via photopin (license)

A crackling fire, a comfy chair?
It may be warm outside
But I know a story that will take you there.
To a castle on the edge of the Fall
Within a dragon’s wingbeat
Of the end of the world.
To the first meeting
With the love of your life,
Who becomes vivid and real
As you read the words in the story.
To a bloody dagger, a world-weary hero,
A femme fatale, a smoking gun.
A passport to any place or time,
Far into any future
Or plumbing the gories of Ancient Rome.
Leave behind your cares, escape your worries.
Wherever you want to roam
I know a story that will take you there.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


photo credit: bluesbby Looking at the rain via photopin (license)

This state of being
When nothing is worth believing.
When everything
Seems transitory and false.
When winter rains feel like
The only thing there has ever been.
And my mind is waterlogged,
By currents that circulate confusion.
Drip feeding that nothing will ever matter again.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


photo credit: slimcloudy Wonderland via photopin (license)

A place to call home is not too much to ask.
A little sun on my face, clean air to breathe.
A pleasant atmosphere, people that are kind to me.
A place to touch down, a place to land.
Got to be somewhere in this inhospitable universe
That has been designed for humankind?

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.