"drowning"

Drowning.

Haunting. Calming. Silent.

I watch the last bubble before my eyes

Rise into the dimming light above.

I do not struggle. I do not fight.

I sink, slowly, silently.

Into the eternal deep.

our greatest unforeseen .

My hands are outstretched.

Reaching.

I await a rope to be thrown.

A single sign of hope.

In the stillness that consumed

My every thought

I listened,

But that rope did not come

And I am left,

adrift at sea.

Let Me Down Gently

this is a song I wrote for my friend

Let me down Gently
(for Geoff)
1
A growing sensation
of total abandonment
destruction watches, approaching fast
find shelter quickly
Tomorrow's coming
Don't let it take you away

Chorus:
As tomorrow creeps, over the window sill
it finds me waiting
fighting to defend you
I won't let it take you away

2
Passing through time
flying through growth
bringing me down to earth
with a bump
back to reality
but I cannot lose you

3
Fighting through the wastelands
of my barren memory
looking for something to let me
back to reality
if you bring me down
bring me down gently

4
letting me down
my heart can't take it
I've watched you walk away,
straight into his arms
you couldn't even let me down gently

5
Are you searching for reason?
well I hope you find it
I couldn't have you
so I had to watch you
turn and walk away

6
Light creeps in slowly
through the old broken window
here come's tomorrow
but it's too late
you've already gone

Response to illustration 5

This is a poem I wrote a while ago but I've a feeling it'll work with the image

The Day Emotion left the world to die

Business-men leaving families
suddenly not caring
The little girl, her puppy passed away
she; oblivious, has just gone out to play

The radio and T.V.
blare news of buildings falling
people dying
but we stare blankly, into nothing

Atrocities- horrific at any time but now
have no effect
we cannot feel remorse
we no longer remember how

Blandly, the telephone rings
forsaken by it's usual urgency
it bears news that, undoubtedly will
be received in deathlike silence

Dreaming, once in colour
creating wondrous fantasy
what once amazed
now has drifted into monotone

Alone

Alone

"I work best alone"
I said to myself on
the cold winter morning
as I walked away from her

She just stood watching me
as I disappeared into the fog
She said nothing,
just watched

"I don't need her"
I walked mulling things over
finding things to blame her for

She just stood there
disappearing from view
and I kept walking

"I'm better off without her"
I left, to become a man of the world
plenty more fish in the sea after all

She just stood there
her hands outstretched
clutching the two halves
of the heart she'd just torn out

Another response to illustration 4

This is actually a song I wrote a while back but it has just occured to me that it could fit in well here. It doesn't really have a name.


Once or twice is quite outstanding
If there's nothing up that sleeve.
But I won't be the judge
of that.
But it won't fit into the picture
And it won't shine a perfect light
That will guide our fall to safety.

And that's all we want from this.
That's all that we need to see.
So put your hands in the air
Just to let us know you're alive.

Let down after broken promise.
Bated breath and silent screams.
The essence is all but lost
Inside us.
But you'll only get what we intended,
Catch small glimpses of the dreams
That we hold together in union.

And that's all we want from this.
That's all that we need to see.
So put your hands in the air
Just to let us know you're alive.

And grasp with your fingertips.
Reach up into the unknown heights.
And if your feet leave the ground hten don't look back
To find them.

Response to illustration 4

The Stage

The Stage gives power,
The Stage gives life
to those of us
who grasp for the light.
The stage is a platform
for song and dance.
The Stage is a podieum
from which
the spoken
word can romance.
The Stage always listens
when all others tune out.
The Stage has no boundries,
no remark,
no doubt.

responce to illustration 06

SIN

He calls and longs for her
But she does not answer him.
He cries and screams for her
But she dose not hear him.
With a darkness in his heart,
That fades all the light to dim
he knew what he had done...
and what it did to him.

Hi Everyone,
Ale thanks for inviting me onto the blog. I must admit I am totally new to blogging and this is my first post ever. Been having a look at the blog and it's great to see you all posting new poems. Writing in response to an image is a great way to generate new work.
Eileen

Illustration 02-06

I didn't expect such quick responses!

Let's try with a few other images. Pick one

Illustration 02

Response to Illustration 01

Back To Back With Shadows...

It begins
Again with its
Infamous whiff of woe
Caressing the nostrils
Leaking through the eyes
Gravitating the heaving heart
Towards the abyss of despair

Souls begin their lingering
Memories hover and anticipate
Their re-enactment
As his soul splinters in
Silences slumber
While tears dry in their
Flight away from him

He
Is no longer
The reflection in
The mirror of truth
He will give in to all perplexing realities
He will sit back to back with shadows
He will wait for redemption’s call...
That may never come...

'Rooms'

Hi there! , this was a poem I wrote a while back but i feel it works with the image!

'Rooms'
I have sat in the most colourful rooms,
staring at sunsets that don't exist,
and reality was but a daydream.

I have sat in the most colourful rooms,
not far from the gaze of heaven's steps,
and for five, six, seven hours,
it was the perfect world.

But i have also sat in the darkest of rooms,
dried up, lethargic and lost,
where emptiness could be harvested in abundance,
and freedom was but a daydream.

Illustration 01

Hi there,

Can I propose an experiment?

I was thinking of posting an image from my sketchbook. Maybe someone of ye can put words around it. It would be like the process of the Rhyme Rag publication but reversed.

You are free to do whatever is suggested by the image and, once you have it, you can post it (I will add the image to the post later).
Hope this makes sense.


Let me know what you think.

The Drunk and The Devil

This is my most recent poem. I have some more lines and rhymes floating around the place but nothing as substantial as this.

The Drunk And The Devil

The Drunk and The Devil walk hand to hand,
They lie toe to toe,
And from time to time
Talk face to face.

The Devil says it’s love,
The Drunk thinks the end is near.
Thoughts have turned to decisions,
And decisions back to thoughts.
He doesn’t want to make a fuss,
Whether that means he settles or
Starts to feel the way he should.

On the night they met
The Drunk was drunk
The Devil seemed to him
An Angel.

But the Devil has no fallen grace,
Which can’t be said for her partner.
So who’s to say The Devil is she

And The Drunk is not the both.

Schizophrenia

Strangers wait for me
omly when I do not want them
they call to me when all others
are silent

I find them there
in my safest hiding place
waiting to assail me

There is no escape
I am forever pursued
by those I do not want to meet

They follow me
because I cannot leave them
I speak to them sometimes
but not visibly

I find them there waiting
when I go where
no-one can reach me

They wait for me
and reveal a part
of myself
I did not know before

I fear them
because they truly know me
and I cannot
begin to understand them

they come to me
and I'm left alone
with them
to think

I am left alone
to think
and they are my
only company

They do not physically
and so,
I fear them

My poetry

Hey everyone, all my poetry can be found on facebook in the group "Poetry by Diarmuid Hunt" feel free to join and comment.

My Junilant Schooldays

A poem of no embellishment,
A story of quiet imprisonment.
I walk to school,
knowing my fate,
trudging a lonely path,
a journey forced by faith,
I enter dreary and bleary,
walk past sneers and mocks,
to my bleak locker,
and watch popularity and her flocks,
I hear a harsh shriek,
as the bell shows its pain,
walk into class, open books
and learn which keeps me sane,
The sweet swan who sang,
bringing music to my ears,
now shrieks and moans aloud,
a harbinger of vast fears,
My lunch once filled with glee,
which was a haven of peace,
is now a time of dread,
I never feel at ease,
Later, should be joyful,
but I trod out the gates,
eyes drilling my back,
homework a burden of great weights.

By Diarmuid Hunt

Vacant, Lonely

Vacant, lonely, empty eyes
ringed in silver blue.
Wet drizzle dampens the earth beneath.
All words are lost in tremor.
Where we once stood,
sunshine cannot reach.
Frosted flowers beneath
the rubble, of our fallen statue.
Vacant and lonely, it lies in chill.
The frosted petals, preserved,
so that we may look back, and cry.




Hope you like!

'Wake up'

Encased in such comfort,
as a child in it's mothers womb.
Outside the soothing hush of rain,
slapping the slates, and making sleep
seem all the more worthwhile,
O' but such joyful bliss can bring a man to ruin.

...You'll notice when you wake up.

...one touch...

hello, tiz sorcha reilly here, thought i might as well post some poetry of my own aswell ^^

...one touch...


a heartbeat, at first,
beats slow and calm,
rythmic to the sound,
of breathing. gently.

with a single touch of hand..
the breathing stops.
the heartbeat quickens.


hope you all like, :)

Poetry~!

Right, seen as no-one else has, I'll be the first to post a poem!! I have quite a few poems that i haven't published that I'll be posting here, so this is a poem i wrote about a week ago:


Forgotten

Your hand, at the back of my neck
remains unmatched.
The safety of your arms,
unsurpassed.

The happiness you brought,
unscathed by doubt.
The butterflies in my stomach,
persist in flight.

None were as soft,
as your lips.
None were as kind,
As your smile.

You were all I ever needed.

Launch of Rhyme Rag

Next Wednesday, the launch of the fourth issue of Ryhme Rag will take place in no.72 John Street. Everyone is welcome. Previous years it has been a fantastic night buzzing with energy. Make sure you don't miss it.

Rhyme Rag 2008

Welcome to the Rhyme Rag Blog. This is an space for everyone taking part in the rhyme Rag Project or with interest in it. Hope you enjoy it.
We are looking forward to hearing form you.