Welcome!

Hi Everyone,

Welcome to my new blog *cowers*....What follows are the ramblings of a madwoman....enter at your peril!

No seriously, I wrote these mostly during the period 2009-12 and they represent what was, for me, a very dark time.  Perhaps they might be called my 'therapy' during those times which, I hope for some, may provide ample comparison to the unique experience of love and all it's associated emotions.

I take my inspiration mainly from musical verse.  As a former songwriter, I now have very little time to play and so, prefer to play with words instead.

Enjoy!

Bronagh

At University

Why are things so black and white? as I lie awake at night, 

wondering 

Whatʼs their ministry?

This magpie-riddled territory

is blinding me

I cannot see 

A bunch of names upon the wall 

a faceless throng of ʻbeckʼ and ʻcallʼ 

I wonder what will come of me this night, 

at University? 

Will I crash and burn under adversity? 

or rise above this adverse city? 

Who will hold the fateful key,

to stall my burning anguish? 

Me.

As I sit astride the radiator warming my diminished soul 

My feet are cold like steel My hands are tied, I cannot feel.

I wonder what will come of me, this night at University?

At Last

Anachronistic, cyclical past
so glad Iʼve freed myself at last from the shackles 
of the past and all thatʼs passed.
Loveʼs passed away and now Iʼm free At last!

Blue Eyed Monster

You haunt me daily

like a friendly ghost, I don't know how to cope

I try and try, remembering

the reasons why I ought to have forgotten you by now

I ought to have begotten you by now

Now I know how numb I have become

as I succumb hopelessly

to the thoughts of you without me

-all our guilty pleasures merging endlessly

into an action replay:

on and on I pause and replay;

pause and replay

pause and replay

Hindering my soul's adventures

Hampering with all my endeavours.

In vain, I fervently remember

all the good times

blurred by all the 'should' times;

Help me Lord-eradicate the onslaught

of the thoughtless Blue- Eyed Monster

Death by Drowning

I wonder if its possible
to drown in ones own tears? 
To die of broken-heartedness, 
or cancer of my fears?

If so, my life is over and
I cannot win the fight. 
Love life, career?
Everything seems like its out of sight

When all I want is happiness
 and yet my misery compels me 
toward loneliness and takes control of me
I know that it will happen when its meant to, naturally 
But Iʼve been blinded for so long that even laser surgery canʼt help me.

I can see only shades of darkness silhouettes and dreams while sunlight exposes all my flaws for all to see

Down in Dublin

The only sign of life today

is water on my window pane

it drips and drips like time gone by...

Overhead a magpie flies

Swooping along, ‘to’ and ‘fro’

just like my thoughts;

aimlessly thrown

on this sheet of paper

Sometimes I feel like

flying away

Soaring freely, among the foray 

or migrating to warmer climates

and dancing in the wind 

like a murmuration

Dublin Syndrome

Excuse me all you happy people, Could you not be so?
Iʼve got a major dose of Dublin Syndrome and I canʼt let go
It makes me want to close my eyes and ears and hide away 
For seeing people kissing puts my very head astray

Dying Love

Dying Love 

You haunt me like a daydream

that I cannot wake up from

I feel your presence daily

like a ring around the sun

Yet, I cannot say ‘I love you’

fearful I’ll wear it out

I didn’t know I’d lose you then

though I was filled with doubt

I’m reaping my own consequences

shadowed by a cloud

bathing in my misery

sheltered by the shroud

of dying love...

I’ve sat beside your bedside now

this two years past, or more

I’ve been a witness to your rage

locked behind closed doors

Now I’m exorcising everything

ridding of the fumes

extinguishing the passion

brandishing the plume

of dying love...

I want to bury you with Angela,

and Granny too and Gosh

I want to be reborn with vigour

overcome this loss

I sew the seed of hopefulness

dwelling in love’s ‘blind alley’

lingering over everything

for fear of letting go

of dying love.

Empty Balloon

The Empty Balloon

It’s been 30 days since you sent me your ‘gift’;

A flaccid, Hot-Air-Balloon of Broken Dreams and humiliation

A stark reminder of your failings and of my pitiful demise 

at both our hands 

You showered me with lies, lies and

more lies

Nothing’s fine

my mind’s eyes are not mine 

You haunt me constantly

as, scene-by-scene the image of what seemed to be 

replays, and replays, and replays...

For days now, I’ve been craving something I cannot enunciate

but punctuated in between my night-time gasps are moments, ever lasting which scream to me of silence ever after

It seems our love was just an image,

-a pretense

full of hot-air and fleeting chances

for reconciliation with the devil;

a love, dishevelled by life but not by fate nor fortune

I hate the fact I care

The bubble may be burst

but onward marching towards my destiny I strive, 

wearily infuriated by the weight of a thousand tears cried solid

dried, but ever ready to evaporate again at the hat’s drop 

The air may have been sucked out of the clotted lungs of our love 

but the empty balloon lives on.

Runaway Groom

It seems that now the veil has lifted slightly

the appeal is found beneath the memories

the constant glancing backward has now ceased

and I can breathe again.

Occasionally, it trips me over as I grope relentlessly

towards the future

waiting patiently for someone to say

“I told you so”.

Each day breathes new life

as the dying memories that hitherto I clung to

slowly slip away...

No longer am I waiting for a train that’s never coming.

Melodrama Queen

Melodrama Queen

How many more tears must I cry
before the pain inside me dies?
How many times must I relive the memories
which betray my fears?
When will I have someone to hold
to care for me, like I did he?
What if there’s nobody left and I’m left
all alone, on my lonesome and out on a limb?


Who knows?...No really, WHO?
Cos I’m losing the will and the patience
Not willing to sit and be cast on the shelf
like the others
I’m not being selfish, but maybe I’m blind?
Is there any left of my kind?

Who knows?
Really, who knows?

Memories' Stain

Despite the fact that memories fade

the trace is stained upon my face and

even though I try to hide it

every now and then I stumble.

Into the recess

I dwell, but only for a while

‘til, like first morning I awake

needing to see the light.

I emerge, burnished

but not broken.

The dis-ease of the disease

How is it, it always seems to follow me?

Even when I’m not within the bounds of my very own

self-made prison-cell;

wallowing in self-pity.

Still, it seems, no matter how hard I try to

keep at a safe enough distance-

you follow me like a homing bird.

Always plucking at my heart-strings

watching me, waiting for the inevitable

‘fall from grace’ - or for the ground to swallow me up

and spit me back out,into your arms.

But I don’t feel anything anymore.

I’m physically and mentally immune to you now:

My disease is that I can’t stop dreaming about it.

My Lack

Standing tall beneath the mindscape
of my current change of scenery.
What will it take to keep my nose clean
of the powdery poison that is you and your hallucenagenic qualities?
The memories; a fantastical minefield of
similes- never existing in reality
I guess the only real antidote is pushing forward...
Donʼt look back on what was ultimately mine: My Lack.

My Obsession with possession

“That’s life!” they say,

but watch as it passes me by

as I sit on the sidelines and

cry about not being able to focus on any one singular thing

-except him.

My obsession, my most prized possession

only somehow, I do not appear to possess 

the resilience required to cope.

The constant oblivion is driving me to distraction;

self-destruction

and yet, the rejection reminds me 

of the insignificance of that which I do possess in excess:

letters, texts and digital images of you-

the last remaining traces of reality-

my reality, which is that our ‘so-called-love’

is a tragedy.

Sextasy

Hopeless, hapless, endless love

were you sent from God above?

Or are you in affilliation with the dark Lord?

Trepidation fills my being with extatic cheer - 

somewhere between hope and fear is where my current state of mind is headed.

Faithfully, I pray that you’ll be faithful and 

come good with your promises of grandeur

not one to pander but

to be forever hateful of the love you bare me

is a state of mind more mentally consuming than the most potent of drug....

It’s sextasy the way you touch me 

but only ever on the outside...

Named Shamesake

I hate the way your name reminds me

how we used to be

I hate the way the ‘l’ stands tall 

 and lines up with the ‘P’

and ‘a’ and ‘u’ are in the centre;

vowels that spell my awe,

that definite, though ‘a’ is

I’m your shamesake, nothing more

I never thought the written word 

could have been quite so instrumental

in my mental disposition

now I’m chinese chicken

like that bitch, my predecessor

and my namesake, all the same

Who’d have thought?

that for all our differences

we’d be the same

ex-lovers- all in vain

Anchored (by wankers)

You are the anchor which weighs heavily 

and pervades my very soul

-pinning me into stagnation 

in a way which only God knows

The wind has vanished from my sails as

run aground, I stumble on towards my destiny

my reflections see me going, like mars, 

retrograde into my former future of loneliness

All is blank. And black.

Echoes fade across the open sea 

There’s no one left to save me now but me.

Where darkness prevails

‘Life is for living’; the past-participle of which

is to love and be loved

for without love

nothing can come of it.

The fuel to the fire

is the lack of desire or

that which ignites it;

the yearning for love which burns stronger then any flame and yet

fiercer; A Crematorium of pain and anguish.

The pushing and pulling eventually wears thin and

the strain, of not giving a damn, means that

I just give up.

The End

The End

A blanket of cloud

covers the sky

the edges of life

are passing me by

I trudge

I trapse

with no clue where I’m going

I know that it’s somewhere thats out of my reach

Dreaming of ventures through uncharted lands

Never quite knowing what’s going on

Never quite finding my spiritual home

You’ll never amount to my family’s dreams for me

of wealth and fortune and keen of quality

you’re not of our kind my dear

much as you tried

and I’d hoped

You’re the ‘wrong’ in ‘right’ clothing

a fake

an imposter

I’ll never forget what you promised me

I’ll never be able to break free

God knows that I tried

but that part of me’s died now

The End

About Time

Que Sera Sera

Whatever will be, can’t be, it seems

and yet

I can’t erase the deep 

sentiment of resentment 

that resides inside my chamber

which I hold so dear

There are no tears left anymore.

You broke the law of love and war; my heart

now surely, the score is settled?

The only thing I can be sure of is that loving you

against my better judgement is as painful as 

the most heinous of crimes...

My only comfort: time.

True Vice

And still you hold fast

like a vice

gripped from the first kiss,

stretching me beyond all human reason and

even in my seasoned self-awareness

I still weaken at the thought of you with someone else.

Consistent only in it’s inconsistency 

-your memory taunts me hauntingly,

like a fever I cannot recover from

I awake, and still you’re gone...

Lord help me, lest I should fluster at the thought of flustering,

my heart flutters impatiently as time droves slowly on as if suspended in limbo;

Then I know that I’ve arrived 

But still I can’t resist the longing; it’s my only true vice.

Waking Death

If I wake before I die

please tell them Lord,

at least I tried...

At least I didn’t quit on you

the way you do

when you feel blue

The way you did, back then

and left me

for your den

Which is the crueler of the two?

Pretending that you’re sick again

or

Pretending that it’s me

who spoiled it all?

Remember it was me that caught your fall

Now it’s me that’s paralysed;

I cannot move

My withered heart is crumbling into pieces 

now it’s wearing thin

It’s worn away entirely

Just like you and me

Lost forever

dead again

No burial nor re-birth

just the fettered cinders of a love once vibrant

Wherethefuckartthou?

“When you meet him, you’ll know”.  

So people say, but I already know

everybody knows

Except for him, I feel.

Maybe he does know- he just

doesn’t know that he knows

Meanwhile: the aching grows.

Words in Vain

Words! 

What are these meaningless roundings of the mouth?

They only hold significance for those who choose to subscribe to their promise.

Mere puffs of air, which, throughout the ages, have changed their meaning so that in the same breath,

they can elevate the soul to it’s highest heights and at the same time carry the weight of a thousand dead generations gone before.

Take the phrase ‘I love you’,for example 

the cause and the cure of life’s endless dramas

and yet, without it - never a war would be found nor

a sword drawn.

Surviving Valentines

Surviving Valentines

I wake to the sound of the postmans clatter

as he delivers my fate

as I chime and I chatter to sound out the natter of

waking thoughts, eeking me out of my senses

my fate is before me: an empty fortune cookie

the whirring of senseless defences that cry out

to me -'You're not getting anything this year'

-But why​?

''You're not worth it” they say.

So he says all he needed to say by his silence..

But which silence is worse?That of knowing you're loved but not in the right way? Or of not being able to love yourself?

This valentine's sure to kill me,

Even the dead can send messages

The pain of losing lost valentines

gone, but not forgotten

longed for but not begotten

But who'll deprive me survive me this Valentines Day?

Who'll survive me?

That is the question..

?       ?        ?

?                     ?

?                    ?

?        ?

  ??  

Wistful Thinking

Wistful thinking

Sometimes I see you in my sleep

Sometimes I cry when I'm awake..

Cos I can hear you in my breath, feel you in my and,

worst of all, I can't remember how you taste

I know that coming back here was the worst thing I could do

but really, how else would I know that ultimately it was you?

It always was and always will be and whenever I try to fight it,

just because,

I only end up right back next to you...

Cos you are not you

Nothing's true

DnR

DNR

I’m waiting here impatiently

for you to change your mind

-to realise your love for me

and that we’ve both been blinded

by the inconvenience of life

its consequence and change

that we’ve been fooled

by our own strife

deranged and ruthless

Even if you did

I don’t think I can change

I don’t think I can

be relieved of all the pain

or heal the scars

I struggle on,relentlessly

love life: DNR

I’m tempted just to call you

and relieve you of your guilt

But I’m too scared of what might happen

Petrified I’ll tilt you

in the wrong direction

Push you for an answer you can’t give

The evidence is proving that its

love life:DNR

I fantasise, day in, day out

that you’ll come to my door

But I don’t know you any more

Are you worth fighting for?

I sometimes wonder if it’s worth it

-pain you’ve put me through;

But I still love you, hand on heart

I’m stuck to you like super glue

I can’t escape you: DNR

Never more to be

Nevermore with me

DNR