Andrew James Whalan

Poet Blogger Writer

Category: Poetry (page 2 of 5)

Never Unknown Again

You know I'm staring at you
Though you won't look at me
Your head is bowed low
Over Candy Crush or TV

I can wait with my empty cup
You'll remember, you'll see
You'll bob your head up
And stare full back at me

And when our eyes meet yet again
We'll create our own serenity
Only for another three seconds
That last another eternity

Never unknown again.


The Gift

How could I understand
When it left my hand
That heavy burden, now lightly lost
Had released all and every cost?

The gift then revealed itself to me..

I am a constant escapee
I am a freedom loving revolutionary
I am the silent conspiracy
I am the light to a world of misery

The Bitter Sea

Mine is a lost soul that swims in a bitter sea
Overlayed and swamped by waves of jealousy
Caught and held under by a rising tide of night
At the mercy of winds of animosity

Until I lose my strength  and drown ashore
Foundered now ocean’s false martyr
Suns may rise, storms may  fall
A light shower  washes my tears away

Beyond The Steps

There must be another world beyond the steps
One where people descend to disappear
Or another from which they’ve made the climb
From this  temporal world to another one

Blue Steps

Blue Steps


In the meantime I watch them sit
And shuffle in their place until settled
And wait as they forget all breath
Until they are called back again

Perhaps in that other world
People whirl and spin so free
And dance and sing without fear
But what do they send back here?

Joy

Joy is such a bastard
You never know it’s there
Till it sneaks up on you
And clouts you unawares.
Go and ignore the bastard
Bloody well tell it to go away
Too bad now you noticed
It will settle in and stay.

The Forgotten Tree

Ready for the Path?It seems to have fallen upon me
To be the one that assembles a tree 
From its scattered limbs and leaves
Broken trunk, bark and branches

And like a god I start
To take piece and part
Aligned to my careful plan
I build span by span

But when I look at my space
Bark and branches are missing
Leaves lost from their proper place
Limbs  awry and twisting

I scrabble on the ground
To find the missing parts
But as I look down and around
I see the failure of my black arts

To finalise my creation perfectly
I seek new bark and the right leaves
Straighten limbs and branches
To complete my best tree

Which grows unknowingly in my absence.

Grace

Grace visited silently
Grace called you gently
But you shouted impatiently
And angrily sent grace away.

Graceless your life stands still
Falsely happy with its fill
Neither giving nor receiving
Living a life quickly receding

Grace though sent away
Still waits night and day
In patience and with forbearance
To provide hope and love in abundance.

 

Catching Shadows Before They Fall

It's not my failing eyesight,
That sees dusk not daylight,
And the dawn before the night,
For I live in a world of half light.

Yet sometimes I feel lost
Pressed in by a moving forest
Of those taller than me
Whose shadows they can't see.

 
Looking through that half darkness
Listening to what is not said
Letting silence draw out the truth
To discerning the felt but unspoken


I see them so sure and certain
As they think so themselves
Until I see first the shadows change
Just before they teeter and fall

I try and catch them first
But mostly I miss and fail.

 

 

The Past is a Different Country

I’d like to wander back
Return to where I was before
Retrace that same track
Gain my lost promise once more

Now settled I’d stay there
Finally secure, stable and free
Hereafter happy without a care
A past forever just for me

But when I return to the past I’m…

Seeing faces half familiar (I see you so clear)
Hearing words never said (I’m sure I did hear)
Recalling events out of order (We went here before there)
Revisiting actions never taken (I  know what happened here)

And now in that past I ask…

Why have my old maps failed me?
Why is the compass needle so untrue?
Why in the past do I feel so lost at sea?
What stars could guide me through?

And once I return to the present I realise…

The past is a different country
I can journey there no more
In that past I emigrated
And sought a different shore.

The Gentle Heart

I heard those words spoken
From a pure and gentle heart
Once riven almost torn apart
And now complete, healed and unbroken.

I  heard not how your heart was broken
I only heard that heart’s intent
To be a comfort in every extent
To those lost : healing with words unspoken.

The gentle heart seeks comfort and surety for all those who are lost
The gentle heart in its silent moments knows peace for itself is not enough.

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