When I am old

When I am old the lines will show,

#AudioMo

Timeo Ergo Sum

[with thanks to Descartes]

I am anxious

Je suis anxieux

#audiomo Day 8

Poem by Paul O'Mahony - recorded for #AudioMo 2018 Day 7

Backtracking

They robbed one man of his loneliness 

when they automated the Skelligs 

You could feed a multitude on the soft greenery 

with the loaves and fishes 

behind that view.

We climbed the stairs assembled 

with the same architectural craft 

as those stones igloos.

The cell opened up 

first light, then warmth, 

it became easier to see the attraction

There’s no hardship in those cells 

just the pain you bring inside 

that’s yours to cherish.

You just came to me

Pig-sty to cattle track, anemones to fountain-pen,

you sat in yellowed armchair, among psychiatric alumni,

released into a fighting streetscape,

where burnt-out cars took place of bicycles.

Your warrior-self listened to every voice

with the greeting of a saint

who wrote with a sun-lit plume.

Prince of the messengers,

carrier of connections,

pointing companions around wild flowers,

through the thicket of everyday life,

out into a clearing, ever shadowed,

ever dappled,

your painterly hand ever active,

you spoke of trees in a family field,

the feed from bonamhs that licked your fingertips,

the rub of the beast that reminded you of animated conversations,

the rough warm blanket into which you were born.

You walked every inch of the lane that led from farm-house,

past copulating ragwort, to a table strewn with words

drawn together for the sake of safe passage.

In that armchair, you smiled through dark-rimmed spectacles,

turned a tongue around considered thoughts

that vied for voice.

In a flash, you held back

eager sperm-like phrases

in favour of a diamond-eyed glint,

before you spoke the timbre of imagined rest.

I wondered who you were in that evening circle –

just as I wonder now.

You just came to me –

as if I were high in a mountain stream, surrounded by parakeets,

and the echo of flowers talking to the wind –

as if you put a hand in the pocket of your overcoat,

and produced a map for me to read.

Recorded specially for the #AudioMo community of audio lovers & makers by Paul O'Mahony on 5th June - Day 5

A poem by Paul O'Mahony - recorded specially for the community of audio lovers known as #AudioMo on 4th June 2018

Growing

You’re never too old to waste your life 

To fritter away an hour a day 

and spend the coins of change

No way you lose that fear of the living  

Spend your time awaiting, waiting to be seen 

and you see it all slip by

You’re never beyond being sorry for me 

Hold back, hang in, stay put 

as your life goes down the drain.

Poem by Paul O'Mahony - recorded specially for Day 3 of the audio 'community-in-action' known as #AudioMo 2018

This is the 11th year of AudioMo.

A poem by Paul O'Mahony - recorded specially for the community of audio lovers called #AudioMo 2018.

A poem by Paul O'Mahony - recorded specially for Day 1 of  #AudioMo 2018