City in Bloom (2008)

Snowflakes and blossoms

saunter through the streets of my beloved landscape.

Flowers in bloom –daffodils

and in the manicured, manufactured area of the Green

yellow and red tulips.

The male pigeons flirting and fluffing for their females.

A band of boys hop and pop on the bandstand.

A lone busker gregariously grooves funky tunes.

I love this place that is my home:

Dublin city in bloom.

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Salty Smoke and Mirrors

Where am I

when wishing my feel and feet away

on a stray;      locked in?

Time rolls on a tide:

in the angst of unforgiveness

physical overlay of bleak memories inhibit -inhabit the cells.

A desire to be more

To be Better         Stronger        Clearer

– or whatever-   Other

Nostalgia grips

by the ribcage

and cracks it open to the sandstorm of the past.

Sands gritting pumping tearing

the lining of the blood

beating into exposed lungs.

Sea drought to the bone.

Quick; distract tears with an ice-cream cone.

Salty Smoke and Mirrors.

Momentary Lapse of Pain

Most of my impetus and drive to express through poetry – and also with painting – comes from a feeling or an intensely experienced moment. I want to describe it; to mould the words that will share the essence of how it inhabited my body or how it hangs in my mind.

One of the moments that I contemplated and wanted to explore creatively was that moment just after any kind of intense pain stops. That moment when you feel ease, your breathing changes, it is releasing, refreshing, and always such a relief. I think there is something so recognisable here. It is a moment that every human being will have, and there are multitudes of contexts that can frame it.

Tormentors Love 

Loneliness-grief crushes my spirit,

erodes my trying-to-untwist mind.

A drop of serenity to

dull the cutting words of her

hate

lashing and slicing

at my mind heart body

No more              I beg

On my knees   I plead

a wish to be left

alone.

Prodding next to anger, to engage me;

my erosion till explosion

she breaks me.

My thrashing about the shark waters

and broken glass shores

is no match for her will to have me.

Desperate. Exhausted. Bleeding.

I welcome her rescue rope and raft

and I love her then for the peace it brings.

Im floating as the world’s alighting off my shoulders.

Oh tidal wave of ease

take me

wash me up onto the shores of that painless place.

I sooth comfort and reassure her with this mood she has wooed from me.

Then she is gone again,

and I am alone

an answered prayer in the coarse crunch of chaos.

I am weak, a sore infected

oozing with a fear

of festering control

I see it inking into my future

sinking my hopes

into the deepening darkness

I loath the discovery of what it is

to loath someone you love.

I want to live.

I want to live.

I want to want to live.

A Refreshing Place for my Sunshine and Shadows

I have cleared the decks, wiped off the counter-tops, dusted away the cobwebs, cleaned the windows, and cleared the deadwood (actually I’m building bookshelves with it), and I have double clicked the ‘refresh’ button.

Starting with a clean slate… or rather a slate projected onto it a tapestry of sunshine and shadows. sunshine and shadows on slate

A prayer for Calling Up Song

Rise, Music, out of the Earth!
I feel it below me and just beyond this world
A cavern full of sound, a storm trapped beneath a mountain howls at the edge of my throat.
I burn to let it sing through me!
Rise up, music, in me and devour me-
Angela Galik 2009

A laconic look at Leitrim landscape

Thick grey cloud hangs low on the not so distant horizon hill,

Bobbled with trees, like a grey wool jumper worn many times.

The sliver of white that outlines the bobbled hilltop is disappearing at a speed from the centre out. As the sky meets the land, fields and trees all merge into one grey mass. Seen though this scruffy window it is an old black and white photo found under the floorboards of an almost unremembered time and place, once a powerful evocation of flooding memories to someone else.

More to the foreground in the bottom left corner of the window, the thick and united winds makes it seem like I’m looking out to sea.

Stepping closer to the window a dull half varnished wooden fence with three empty trellises comes into the frame obscuring the valley view.

With one more step I am against the sill. The green mowed-last-month grass splices the lower frame; wet and quivering below the solid unforgiving ineffective shelter of the barren panelled fencing. I hear a buzzing; the mobile fussing and flashing behind me on the table telling me it’s time to go get the train.

The arrival of a piece of paper.

The long anticipated year one results arrived with a snap in my letterbox this damp grey day in Leitrim. Jumping up from the kitchen table I ran to the front door leafed through the small pile of envelopes to find the one I hoped was there. Handing my mom her post I grab a gulp of water and then a small pack of tissues. I sit. I stand. I go to the hallway. I sit on the stairs. I stand again and go back the kitchen quickly inching back the sticky lip of the envelope. A deep breath … air and paper release from their captors together. Opening out the folded page I see a list of the word “PASS”

“Well?”
I reply with a breathy sigh: “Oh my God I passed.”