An Irish love poem

PORTRAIT OF JAMES JOYCE by Liam O'Neill (b.1954) (b.1954) at Whyte's  Auctions | Whyte's - Irish Art & Collectibles

Dallying in the evening wild, studded with barbed wire,
My mind takes a turn for the worse.
Oak trees help me flee to the world I need
My mind is soaking up this new year’s eve 
Your slow gaze onto this solitary page
Releases the frame of my bondage to the world
Now only the mind can release the tension of the moment
My imagination leaps, frees my broken body,
into the dream of transmission.

The beautiful saviour, music, dissolves the hidden addiction
to the poetry of Piers Ploughman, John Clare
Words that understood accent, tone, the importance of home
Groping line by line, I move towards their gloom
 I live in a place where a vaccine promises much,
A flashlight upon this dark night’s book,
Fog descends on this melancholy Jew in the mountains,
As I compose beautiful feminine words 
We will resist the lies of the barbarians
humans create their own destinies,
The darkness is lifted by the miracle of life
We resist the siege, instinctively,
My landscape is the light of the moon,
Dreams rustle, new year snorts up the alarm clock,
Nothing is as nothing seems
I’’ll drink until I’m sober
I’m a rover who settled on my Irish love
I cannot live without her now.

 

 

◄ The worried well

Revising the rain ►

Comments

Profile image

Shifa Maqba

Mon 4th Jan 2021 16:12

A poem that feeds the soul. So pure, so poignant, so immersive. Thank you for this gem of a poem! You're a true poet. Blessed be.

"Suddenly, quietly, you realize that - from this moment forth - you will no longer walk through this life alone. Like a new sun this awareness arises within you, freeing you from fear, opening your life. It is the beginning of love, and the end of all that came before."
-Robert Frost

Nicola Beckett

Mon 4th Jan 2021 05:55

My love has gone quiet. He drinks until hes sober. Irish roots too. I convince myself I don't miss him. Only I loved him when sober and that I guess is the test. Do you still love them in the morning. I wish you love and happiness my friend and your dreams to come true.

Profile image

John Marks

Fri 1st Jan 2021 07:57

Thank you Cathy and a happy new year to you too! John

Profile image

Vautaw

Fri 1st Jan 2021 03:41

Another masterpiece John. Thank you for the gift of poetry you have given us this year. I always look forward to reading your artwork. I wish you abundant blessings in the coming year. Shine on! 🌟

Profile image

John Marks

Fri 1st Jan 2021 00:57

Thank you my dear Keith. It is my pleasure to write for you. Thank you for your discernment. It is rare enough.

Poetry, even when apparently most fantastic, is always a revolt against artifice, a revolt, in a sense, against actuality.

James Aloysius Joyce

Profile image

keith jeffries

Fri 1st Jan 2021 00:30

John, I detect a complex but highly subjective poem of one's personal plight. Jon Clare, the Northamptonshire poet used to live only a few miles from my home. He wrote of the beauty of this county with great affection but was eventually considered mad. Your poem paints well the landscape I see every morning when I walk my dogs I also often consider those I see going to work, leaving their homes and wonder what occupies prime place in their heavy lives. I relate to this poem and it has a haunting quality for me personally.
Thank you for this

Keith

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message