July 7th, 2009

Protected: It The Wind

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June 6th, 2009

Protected: a memory is gifted

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June 6th, 2009

Bucketing

Here’s the third of my five poems on leaving Dublin.

I know this Dublin well;
it’s pouring or ‘bucketing’.
I’ll get up with the light,
make a special breakfast
as if for me and my love.
I’ll haste to get ready,
as had I a lover,
whose forehead i’d kiss, and say,
sombrely, breathlessly,
“I miss you already”.

May 31st, 2009

a pint on tap

Here’s the second of my five poems on leaving Dublin, where I’ve lived for the past 11 years. Sort of.

Two days ago now,
I left the tap on.
After half an hour
I discovered this.

Yesterday, bad too:
I burnt a pan black —
I’d forgot that too.

Last night, drunk and blue,
“forgot” to say “bye”
or “I’m leaving now”.
Feeling selfish, I,
not digging the tunes,
stole to a taxi —
asocial baboon.

Now that time is here:
Groceries have dates,
usually on top,
that are redundant
(I’ll be gone by then).
For example: beer.

But a pint on tap
is for drinking now,
or for drinking then.
“Goodbye Dublin town!”,
I might burp and say,
if I’d know that pint
were the last I may.

But, instead, I’m dumb;
It’s become my way.

May 27th, 2009

Lidl, Thomas Street

This is one of five poems I’ll write as a farewell to Dublin (doctor’s orders).

I stand
for Lidl Quality,
more and more each month.

I am
sitting now on their shelves in boxes,
waiting to exist:
Brown bread,
Bebida Soja, tinned tomatoes.

Gladly
I picture myself at my last meal,
before I go off
(abroad).






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