Poetry Blog by Kealan Coady (2010)



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Picnic In The Dark.

Lamplight on sand

Reflecting majesty of the sea.

Everything measured in tide

And wonder.


Moonlit silhouette

Of smoke string ribbon

Cooling on a brim

Of stars.


Ceasefire of the senses

Brush a cushioned foot

Across dune curtained outlets

Toe a line.


Distance is soundproof

Almost silent but the wind

Flickering mild suggestio...

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The Long Crawl.

Sluglike and heavy, weary of percentages

Rolling slowly on rough carpets of winter green

Rainfall aftermath damp and blanket atmosphere

Moving by the metre just after sun shower

'Little insect journey'


The concept of scale is a cage in itself

'Little insect Auschwitz'

Chained to the radiator calling for god


Crawling in a ...

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Stop the search.

Silence the satellites.

The little green men

Your fear determined

Wander not in distance.


We are the aliens

From planetry parables,

Violent harvestors

Of the solar garden

Delicate skeletons

Of the star field.

The question begins

And ends here.  


We are the aliens.

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Dyslexic Caption Readers anonymous.


The tin does exactly what it says on it.



Loving im it.



Shop for it. Don't argos it.



Have your weetabix had you today?


Thomas cook

Just book it don't cook it Thomas.



More morrisons to shop reasons at.



Do it just.



Can't you just stop you po...

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First attempt at a palindrome


Of echoes

Screaming sardonically

Observing lunacy and humour


Humour and lunacy observing

Sardonically screaming

Echoes of


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Bland Gandhi

An i for an i

Makes the whole world

a e o u

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Third Person Omniscient

Out here on the may hills

Stillwater shines in silver thickets

And shrub

stumbles down a rock edge.

Fig leaves release in the wind

Where the scene is swallowed by sky.


The surface of the view

Obtained at perfect height

Defines the climb.


Looking down

Past the sedimentaries,

Cloud mint air and cotton distance

People wandering around


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The Many Aspects Of Panic

The sun is not enough

To heat this day.

Clouds are feeding

On the weak season's

Inheritance of winter.


Traffic attacks the street like a beast.


There is road kill

Scraping the kerb's edge

Enough skin left

To form a smile

At certain angles.


The traffic light turns red

Little green man flickering

A chorus of sighs

From the ...

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There's a gap in the establishment

A narrow shadow

Sweating in the breeze.

Bristles of light flicker

On dim specks

Of misspelled graffiti

It simply reads:




An accidental but fortunate irony.

But no understatement

Has ever saved any

From what is real.


To journey between people

And escape the remains


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Modern Saviour

He would certainly be admitted.

Who would believe

In the return of a prophet?

A dream realised

Is a failure in itself.

It belongs to the mind only.


To arrive in utopia

And find it is raining,

Earn the love

Of a perfect woman

Only to notice

She is a ghost.

This is proof

Dreams are for the mind only.


And as for the return

Of ...

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The Dawn Consequence

Sun heads west

Sky is a platform

Launching cloud

At multi-coloured dawn.


End of night, daybreak

Green, pink, orange.

More colours

Than you could

Shake a rainbow at.


Symmetry recedes

Shadows evaporate

Leaving only morning

And tiny pieces of darkness

Running for cover.


It almost had you fooled

The cruel delusion

Of ...

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The Great Refrain.

An old man stranded on a kerb

Reciting the bible

Stops, rises to his feet,

Counts the coins in a coffee cup

Gathered from guilt of strangers passing

Turns his head

To face the sky yelling

"what does it matter?"


Another child is buried

In the fires of Gaza.

A doctor watches

Bodies maimed, decaying

In a stalemate war

He denounces religion


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I Wanted to be a War Photographer.

Living through a lens

Discovering countries

Creating sense from

Nature's disfigured corners.


I wanted to be a war photographer.


It seemed a dream - like direction

to acquaint meaning

Because where there is death

Truth is always near.

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Becoming Real

From the mist,

A silhouette.

Too distant for image,

Too near for a clear picture.


An energy

Only present

When shadows dream.

The envy

Of everything

Made of skin.


It is dark,

The road is cold.

No sound

But the earth breathing

And occasional flicker

Of rustling leaves

Gathering in communal,

Autumnal graveyards.



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As The Moon Prevails.

The sun stands tall.

Brave comes the moon invading,

Balance of light

Fading toward blindness.


Fingers pointed up,

Mouths opening,

The moon now devouring the sun.

Almost covered,

Half of it vanished,

Disappearing in surrender.

David and Goliath

In the sky.

This eclipse is biblical.

Its testament, a minute long.

But what lesson can be ...

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Closed eyelids

Sunlight shining in

A half - opened curtain.


Confronts the day.


Out through the window

People walking

In suits, sunglasses,

Matching scarves.

People I will never meet.

Events that will never happen.


The afternoon intrudes

Brutal, reliable.

Because you cannot hide from time.


At night there is exp...

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The Linguist.

He only spoke in silent letters

And travelled the planet

In search of the perfect word,

Embraced each place

With every ounce

Of pronunciation


German, Spanish, Mandarin

Armed with a notepad and pen

He asked the questions

That always lacked answers

And nobody seemed to know.


Seasons crawled past him

Slow as slugs

Until one day


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I would rather forget a bad day

Than remember a good one.

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The Unexpected Environmentalist.

Along the river bank

Greasy tide foamed slowly

Oiling the edge.

Rotting among dried crop,

A shopping trolley

Popped it's head above

The dark water.


A coffin for seaweed to live in.


An unusual air covered the area

Not queit mist,

Almost fog.

Plastic bags, half - dissolved,

Softly whispered up stream

With a silent longing

To get ...

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Various Complications.

It begins with the singular

Then complicates.

An embryo's worst nightmare

To multiply too many

And discard a familiar friend

So one dies


Love be the perfect poison

For the imperfect

Only the ugly suffer true love.


The world is an atlas

Of invisible physics,

Equations tame confusion

For soldiers of academia

And the poor parachute


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Sarcastic at half - collapsed ridge.

We walked for about an hour

Or so, talking a quarter of the way.

She brushed the blonde from her hair

In a fashion that mentioned hatred.

Not remembered hatred but a learned hatred.

However the hatred was mutual.


A couple for about a year

Or so, in love about a quarter of the time.

When I say love I mean

A lack of learned hatred.


The road mere...

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A Week In Words.



The mad birth of the week.

Infant among days, bottle - fed

With the bold milk of dreary morning.




First steps taken toward understanding.

Learning the language of time.

A slow process, a brave climbing.

The absent knowledge of consequence.




The week's equivalent of purgatory.

Static and the day's...

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Not walking but discovering the footpath

Young friends laughing at past troubles

All fears flayed.

The wind sings 'La Petenera'.

Furry - faced cats pedestrianized

Preside over freshly retired men

Puffing cheroots outside warm cafe's

Uniform replaced by jazz jackets.


Politics observe perpetually

From under wet sewers,

Bathing in the death of currency


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The Politics of Gender

A man desires the perfect woman.

A woman desires perfection in general.


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Water wearing tide,

Blind men folded at the front.

Seagulls wash on the long shore

As elderly couples demand comfort.

Children play with pebbles

With feet of afternoon blisters.

The sun hides for a second

Behind the mildest of clouds.

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