Wednesday, 28 November 2012

Fell fast asleep at noon

Now there is a melancholy,
now there is a chill,
now some addled trip reveals
teacher took our babies years,
returned a wasted task.

So many preying letters writ, and sweet,
and more to come.
Was with some kind of geisha girl.
Couch is not so soft and.
someone stole our wallets.

Redressed the chosen few.
Washing cycles to its end,
wakes us to hang out.
This silence is resounding, pounding.
Grab the tumbling can but find

last drop flat and tastes old sweat.
Fridge looms into view.
Forehead rests on freezing things.
Hello mister always can,
and mister never could.

And age made work superfluous.
Now what a useless word.
A curious collision scythed
through a humbled mind,
saw a cruet in the thin hands of a boy. 

his house is creaking cold and old and
floorboards smell and creak.
Oil has work to do.
Teacher took our babies years
and um de dum de dee.

Three pm on Monday, they have will to run
and run and  bless them on their way.
And we would do that too if we had will.
Hid. Safe. Spouse has life beyond us,
is soothing mental friend

whose partner, they said, leaped (hunting sanity once craved).
He licked his cracking lips.
She checked his pulse and hips.
Cat has fireside bed,
puss puss.

Decades slipped away when asses
bray was eight miles loud
a cross two thousand years.
Teacher took our children,
left back a mighty task.

A mirror in the hallway
is the  stranger who resides here.
Hello mister always can,
and mister never could.
How are you our brother, sister, how are you, yourself.

Washing cycles to its end.
This silence is  resounding, pounding.
Could we begin again.

© Noel Loftus


Brian Cowen’s former running mate avoids jail for stealing €18,000

Author's note:  'This is a ... rant at the increasing disconnect in Irish society.'

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