Eimear

I just felt like writing a poem A chance to let my mind roam Past the window, out to the sky To the land up there, in my mind's eye. ...

Why I am not like them? Full of vision and plans Then, I wouldn’t be alone. Perhaps I am a kite, Broke free of its strings, Which is creative and ...

Suppose the closest way to death, That ever shimmering depression? I think that's what I’ll do. On a night’s harsh wind, maybe I'll take The next road, and walk until ...

I don't suppose you'll believe that it all started with a can of coke. But then again, for quite some time, no one has really believed what ever I've said ...

When it happens. When I leave, you will be there. In a night's cruel wind, or in a day’s harsh light That time, there will only be despair. I will ...

Firetaming and storytelling Don’t you remember, when were but boys? The world collapsing, in ripples of noise When we as children in the forgotten land, Slipped through the town like ...

What do you see when you close your eyes? A million tiny dots? What you had for breakfast? A loved one's face? Perhaps you see God. Good for you. Let ...

What am I? I am that unforgettable, unforgivable time in the hole between space and reason when nothing I do is wrong, because I am new, and fresh, and I ...

Where will you go, When it gets too much to bear? And I will try to meet you there. When death's cold hand, Has led him far away. Leaving you ...

N.B This poem is about two birds, please let me know what you think. I stood and watched them with my eyes, Swimming splashlessly in the skies. Two of them, ...

Suppose you stop and say aloud, ‘Who murdered this child on the street?’ Alas, the little fingers point, To the policeman on his beat. From Ghana to Romania, The situation ...

It was summer in America the morning when we left. The type of day when even though you live in the city, breathing in gas and pollution, you could still ...

He is the man in front Who bears the brunt, Of what is out there, A war of two men in disrepair. Of the drone of guns, The battle of ...

I hope no one's already done a thread on this because I'm really gonna look like an idiot....I just wanted to say, wow! I love this woman's work! I think ...

You've fought in every battle, And broken every bone. Nothing left in what your saying, In crowds, but all alone. Time leaves no gaps for crying, The dead have troubles ...

The plans, the talk behind hands, The packing, the arrangements, The goodbyes, the tears, We're going to the land of milk and honey, Everything will be fine. We will have ...

Iwarned you Burma. I told you this would happen. "If the buck stops here" Then why do your people cry? Listen, they are coming. And now you in your room, ...

When there's nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. When your oar is broken, fighting the tide But a soul like yours shuffles to your side, simply to be there ...

A thousand stars stared back, splattered on the pane a disembodied cry called out, but didn’t stop the rain. The page in front so blank while the world outside is ...

N.B This, although it rhymes in places, is pretty free verse. I wrote this a few nights ago, but I'll try to let it explain itself. In tarnished wings I ...

I'm just about to buy it. Is it any good?

The middle of two worlds lies in slumber now, But If my mind was to wander, which it eventually does- I find myself amongst those September days, waiting. Waiting for ...

A little bit of madness, Never did anyone any harm. But what if you flirt with insanity, Flattered by it’s charm? Then they’ll say you’re lost to the world, Entertaining ...

The id, the ego and the superego, with a panoramic view of time. The under the surface rippling, a premonition before the crime. The ticking bomb of a destined fate, ...

Why can't you just, open your mind and see? See with those glazed eyes, that you're suffocating me? I wish you would, because you're messing with my head. I hate ...

Sometimes I come dangerously close to understanding myself. When I think about things, or when I press my face against the cold glass of the bus window, the more I ...

I've just started to read this, and although the structure isn't that of a book which i would normally read, I'm hooked. It's a real page turner. Anyone else read ...

I don't see the point, In anything any more. This echoless hole, Opens up on every shore. And I don't understand, How you sell me your remedies. When i just ...

The moment from hell has happened, The bite was worse than the bark. Practice didn't make perfect, And you've fallen short of the mark. So what do you want me ...

The colour of your thoughts, Grows deeper with the ticking days, And slowly filling hourglass of childhood. Crayon height marks fade on the wall, Posters peeling from humid teenage angst, ...

So I just bought 'A gathering light' and wondered what people thought of it . Apologises if there's already a thread for this. Eimear

A want turn into a need, and there's blood in your sweat-bead.

He was always brutally honest with me. I’m ashamed to admit that’s a quality I admire in people. I suppose Doctors have to give you that impression though. Trust and ...

N/B- The caps lock not done on the word 'dad' is intentional. When I say I have a difficult dad, My Mum purses and gives me a frown. She says ...

Repeatedly bitten, by a thousand Gleaming star-strewn eyes. And yet the sting dulls into Oblivion, amnesia’s innocent surprise. Life’s bad manners, who Disregard your empathetic please. Or a wave

In my dusty recollections… The gust of the cherry petals showered their last. And he stood beneath the tree like a grinning fool, his memory, and springtime draining into the ...

A few things you should know about me: I have cancer. I’m seventeen, and I’m also going mad. Why not have a read? Who knows? It might even be a ...

Is there a way argue with time, And negotiate your mistake, Of forcing it on its way? Like to hold a growing child in your arms, Wishing to never let ...

Exam Blues The sun outside is blazing yellow, but my inside walls are grey. Footsteps and temples pounding, clocks ticking time away. This isn’t how I imagined life, scrambling for ...

When the sheets of clear blue water break relentlessly over and under me so that I am immersed; out of my depth. With my heart pounding in me like when ...

We both on either side of them. Railings. Walls. Parallels that the eye can’t see, but the hand can feel. Reach out to the other side, and bang. Fingers burnt, ...

Even when neglected, it manages to flourish within itself. It could survive without air, rhythm, soul or thought, because it’s in every movement we make, affirming itself again. Breathing. It ...

*So for the contest we had to personify a bed, and here's my shot. We lined to attention, on polished floors and covered in clean sheets, to greet the mourners. ...

I could twist and toss this feeling, or throw it to the wind, alas still, like your lingering presence It will be there, etched on my eyelids when I close ...

Rising, rippling currents catch your fallen words on wind, the rushing of the sea deafening; ‘Come with me, love- come with me!’ I shake my head, staring up at you, ...

Dear Mr. Publisher, I hope my plea isn’t in vain. Please find enclosed a manuscript, written in blue crayon. You see, I don’t follow ‘writing rules’ I break them everyday. ...

Do you want to know the worst thing about beating through a broken heart? It’s not the torment of bitter sunshine, stinging winds and rising tides-- It’s not being able ...

Don’t you often wonder of how those who have been born with the gift of dreams, are prepared to rip the life God gave them, completely at the seams? Do ...

So you want to be a writer? Well- show me what you’ve got. Place it in the slush pile, and be warned-- I’ve seen quite a lot. What’s this about ...

**This is a re-write of my first pieces 'A Bad Person'. I've decided to make the piece into a Musical but I haven't decided on a new title yet.** The ...

Don’t you ever wonder, how much your stupid life’s worth? 'Cause in my world of downtown city streets, that sun don’t even burn the earth. Trying to imagine, what it’s ...

** So this is one of the later songs in my Musical. The singer in the first verse is my main character, Che Fitzgerald who’s made a bond with a ...

Can’t you see it? We’re changing for the better, day by day, bit by bit. Even moving mountains, Can’t you see it? I’m starting to smile, you’re beginning to laugh. ...

It’s a bitter kiss of fate, a low blow once received, It’s as bitter as a salty sting, after all that you’ve achieved. It aches in groans of millions, but ...

I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s my job so I’ll try, I’ll try to tell you what it’s like when I do my thing; when I fly. ...

Simply open up the window, and let it fall or rise in flight. If you cup you ear and wait. you’ll see if it’s worth the pain, If you should ...

**This is based on a true event- but please, do rip it to shreds! It needs a lot of work. The sharp end branches shook amber leaves away that year; ...

Look at me, I’ve got to show you what a state I’m in. Once you made your decision, life to me, just isn't happening. Come on in, If you open ...

We meet again, my silvery, salty friend. The cold, dark velvet folds rolling in, leaning away from the pink skies and tinged clouds of dusk, gazing longingly toward the empty ...

Duet from my Musical. [Chorus] What is love and what’s it for? I’m losing faith, can’t take no more. Is it…hearing music in the night, or underneath a ray of ...

From the bay view, in window form, yesterday I saw an electricity storm. As the rain beat down, it beat down warm. A confusing thing, is an electricity storm. For ...

Ed: Hey, Che! What’sa matter with you? Why a grim face on a day like this, When the world’s so crisp, the sky’s so blue? Hey! I’m talking to you! ...

The night sings sweetly, it dances toward the city’s light. It’s on nights like these that memories happen, and streetlamps flicker in delight. Days are bright, but their truth has ...

My dear, you are my season, Your burning looks like days. A year with you, a sigh from the ocean, spraying pebbles on the bays. Love is my season. And ...

N.B. In 1896 the Irish musician Percy French wrote a poem called the Mountains of Morne about the tallest Mountains in Northern Ireland in the seaside town of Newcastle where ...

Tonight my life takes it’s last sigh over the clear skies, where the clouds are high. Where birds soar over the golden glen, I let the breeze cool my face, ...

Change moves within us It travels across souls like clouds whispering over an old sky. Lies begin to turn the truth until you can’t look anyone in the eye. Why ...

In the darkest light of day tonight, I’m going away. Where my soul already plays along a silver sea that sways. Underneath a golden kingdom, I’m going to a place ...

The sun seems to stay behind the twilight moon, So that the sky is tinged with dawn and dusk, The wind is whistling above a low tide of air, I ...

Thud, thud, thud. Perhaps I am light-headed, my breath’s too short for air. But when running in the dark at night I see things that I think are there. Sweat ...

When your parents cry And here we go again, the clock’s hands whiz and stop. I must halt this crazy parade, I have to give daydreaming up. The raindrops shine ...

After the show last night, I memorised what you said to me. ‘All the world’s a stage.’ Well that’s where I don’t agree. Why do we need to pretend? Because ...

You think anyone ever would? I bet if we keep this up, If you insist on falling in love I’ll kill it and all it’s friends, the pain of amour ...

It was a Friday afternoon when Harvey Forest first strolled into his life. The first week of September was mercifully coming to an end. The sun had already deserted the ...

When continents crack beneath your feet, and the rivers between them rise coldly, soaking and clawing it’s way up to your heart, threatening to drown you, freeze your very blood. ...

Last night I lost my brothers. I hid beneath a heather bush, amongst the purple flowers, and waited until their footfalls died. When the moon came out, I ran away ...

This will be a winter, without snow, without Christmas. Passing through the city, the world turns it’s back, ashamed. It’s once proud plume deftly plucked, the rivers in it’s canals ...

I’m not wearing any wings there’s no angels to hold my hand. I have to walk this thin line on my own with only the air to hold me up. ...

In my dreams I took a train last night, and beheld old London’s ancient lights. And met a little figure with heavy pails in his eyes who told me the ...

Hello! This is a song by my main character Che, from my musical that I've been working on for a couple of months. Just a bit of background, Che's had ...

In speckled gutters and wet avenues, In blank faces of winding café queues. Bleeding through the cobbles of the street, It follows, carried in policemen’s feet. In the folds of ...

What if all the burning what ifs where never born, or no one noticed that Mona Lisa looked forlorn? If April was the cruellest month, or if we didn't gaze ...

Bedazzled Caught like a deer, standing in headlights, that’s what you did to me, one of those nights. Late in the summer, early in our lives, after I met you, ...

Here I go, again. Slipping down to the bottom, of dull feeling, at the warm pit. Another relapse, again, into you. I wouldn’t be so sorry to be sick, If ...

The embers of sunlight are fading in my eyelids and through this witching hour of half etherized sleep-- I see little orbs of black floating in the amber. Those mines, ...

Tiny steps from midnight into dawn, have made patterns in my mind, a hundred million times. I see them left behind, steaming in the morning as I go, like a ...

Catch smoke in your hands! Make friends with the rain, sing to the big brass moon start shooting the breeze with life and pretty soon, It’ll be getting it’s kicks ...

Listen to my silence, the silence between your words we’ll go through this life side by side, childish kindred birds. I’ll dip and spring, and fly and rise to your ...

I'm writing a novel at the moment which is from the point of view of an American, and I want to stay true to the literary background and style of ...

**Okay, so I know it's not great poetry, in fact it's pretty bad, but I had this random bout of patriotism the other night when I read something about YWS ...

Do I belong? In these faded, familiar faces, with worn out thoughts in well worn places, In my home town street of honey brick. Or does it lie in the ...

I’m blocked until I open the window and in you come, slipping in with the rain. Back again, my naughty friend, to put your bad, bad thoughts into my brain. ...

It all started last summer. When I was on the edge. I’d been outside for a good half hour, standing against the railings that separated Globe Street, my neighbourhood from ...

The silence on the street forty eight hours later was wrong from the moment I became aware of it. An alien presence of hush and unease seeped in from the ...

I’ve lost all my poetry. Not even a little bit is left, from when I rise to the dawn birds fall drowsy, nothing untoward happens to me. Not a note, ...

I’m lost in the crowd again Got to start breathing, gotta count to ten And try to convince myself to stay. Who am I kidding, they can’t keep me away! ...

We didn’t notice the murder beneath the smile, like you notice it in one with a shabby suitcase who struggles to use French lazily, who ‘can’t see to read’ even ...

A/N This was written because I'm so upset about leaving school. It's pretty messy in terms of rhyme and rhythm because it's originally for the guitar, but I'm hoping with ...

Make it mine all that you hold and see for those things you own always belonged to me. The night you were born even though I was still a babe ...

Markets in sandy places they trade and make a sale, with coins that turn rags to riches, with oil and currencies of diamonds and bullets. A shake of a hand ...

Did you get it? It’s not perfect, it’s creased and blotted done haphazardly, stained with carelessness. Written when I’m running around, a hundred miles an hour spilling tea over the ...

They say you can hear it like the rain- millions of tiny gold pennies, falling from grace down into the drainpipes, rolling into the gutter, enchanted by the music of ...

I don’t know if the lecturer is listening to meI’m sending out thoughts telepathicallywondering where he bought his PHD.But the empty vases beside me won’t agree,guess university brainwashing wa

I don’t suppose what happened to me up ‘til then, when we were surviving on the streets and living out each day like our last was very interesting. Most of ...

Neat little words, ambitiously candidthey fill my room in books of brandedtitles and pages, Dickens and Welles,my library preceeds me:it positvely swells.Plays and musicals, rested on piano casesnotes

It’s not as strong as it once wasThe binds that tie me and you.Why is it the saddest thingsAre always true?I know exactly the disappointment you’re feeling,Because heaven really is, ...

Cold eyes knew that they wouldn’t dare,true, but the captive do not dare,the captive act to breath their airand take back what was once theirs and the bins burn hundreds ...

I’m broke.I threw my pennies down the drain,thinking they would bubble up again,now all I have is luxury’s hunger painsand bruises from hitching rides on trains.I’m blushing.Now I can’t afford

Tea and ToastWe are ugly in the morning, my face is puffy and lame.We could use this time to talk,but I’m speechless, it’s a shame.Words are left untouchedand stacked up ...