Voices of Silence

Voices of silence speaking within heads, looking beyond the face for a greater understanding, the hidden truth, the secret, dwelling in the quietest of places, naked in itself, asking for only its own accompaniment, and the obvious is gone to rest, and the dream surfaces, dream brought out of sleep, awakened by need, and the day merges with the night, and yesterday with today and tomorrow, and one soul with another, and the death, with the life, collective consciousness, has its point to prove, and it means to prove it, and the changing sky and feeling, creating the oneness of the all, and now there is no difference, no black no white, no race, no religion, just the reality of truth.

By the Royal Canal

Stalemate, and motion eases the self from the real. It refuses the tears and its soul is urgent somehow. Faces of the city, the ravaged and the torn, drinking by the Royal Canal, on the edge of sane, and the frustrated language and feeling, crazy in its anger, in its discomfort. All the world is a cruel place, until, you find that kind place of love, a gentle and a simple love, not the accepted love of lovers, but the love within interconnection, of friendship, and of care. Seems to me sometimes, that like finds like, in a desperation, in a loneliness, in a helplessness, in a fanatical need. And it is very difficult to see love within the drinkers on the Royal Canal, but theres is love just the same. And the sun escapes to places like Dalkey and Kiliney apparently, where quality is apparently increased, and simple sentences and words of art align, there is anger in the madness, and everyone, whether rich or poor, has the same spotlight thrust upon them.

A Mexican Thing

So she says to me: 'You don't smile so often, do you'? and then she says; 'But I like how you look.' Perhaps, its a Mexican thing.

Aeroplane in Toronto

Sitting in an aeroplane in the airport at Toronto, whatever it is properly called, and the guy next to me, ask me; 'Do you think the Leafs will make the Play-offs?' And I am wearing, unfortunately for me, a Canada Hockey shirt, and I have no idea what he is talking about, and I answer, ''Well, they've as good a chance as anyone.'

Increasing Spirit

Woke up this morning with my spirit depressed and then I asked myself 'why should my spirit be like this? And I determined to make things different, and increase my spirit, and the day has been good, seems like sometimes you have to fight the spirit that you wake up with in the morning, question and not accept it, and realise the power within.

Easter Time Again

Dark and grey and the bank is on the telephone, eyes think of tears, and meaning has reclined from the day, and then, waiting for that precise moment, where care meets with care and the abandonment of the anxious time, and looking within for changes, searching for betterment for within and without, outside of the dream of the sleeping day, and seeking to be at ease in the present moment, and the changes that it necessarily must bring, and losing the future and the past, or fusing them in a sane way with the moment, and it is Easter time and the heart and mind return to almost a century ago in the persecuted city, of the heroes of justice, giving their all for the future lives of generations to come, for no present reward. I give you Pearse and Connolly and Ceannt and Clarke and Plunkett and McDiarmuid and McDonagh, I don't feel the need to try to remember them at each Easter time, it is almost as if they remind me to remember them, and who I am and how lesser I am than them, and the brave men and women who followed them, let them never be forgotten nor their esteem lessened.

Love

And sometimes, there is no venture into words, they will not express, they are detached from truth, and then perhaps, they are inclined to lie, albeit in an innocent way, and then the reclining into silence, and the wealth of feeling it is invested with, I am sure that at the zenith, love doesn't crave for a wordy accompaniment, in its purest state, it has the strength to stand on its own, perhaps, it is a provocation, known best to itself, but yet, love must care for itself, it must accept itself, for outside of this, it would have to be a pretender, and love is too real to pretend. Love is at war, it is being subdued, it is being terrorised, there are ones in this world who care to assault it, they are ones with faces, just like the ones that you and I have, and love looks outside of itself, for mirror, be a mirror, let love seep into you, divorce yourself from selfish wants, and allow love its place, to be the master.

My Roman Catholic Upbringing

I look around and back at all the places that I have been and visited, and I ask myself, 'whatever happened to my good Catholic upbringing?' Was it always to be just a challenge? Just a place to progress from, and a place that in fact was never really there in the first place?

Wildfire Eyes

Wildfire eyes, and the heat just keeps on heating, to be lateral, is just to cower, in a fear, in the world of togetherness, so there can be no question, can there?

St Patrick's Day 2014

St Patrick's Day is what is on my mind, an event and an occasion, open to anyone and everyone, regardless of creed or colour of skin or political persuasion, it is a celebration of humanity and its essential differences, and the things that make us special to each other, our beauty is in our difference, and that is where our wonder is too. St Patrick's Day is a celebration of our lives and nothing more, and nothing less.

Reclaiming the Spirit

So where does that spirit come from that makes you wish to reclaim your true spirit, away from drink and drugs, when their spirit has invaded your life?