Poetry

Days of Memory

Times Up

Where to go, if anywhere's best?
Between you and me and him,
We’re just pawns in chess,
Put in the front line.

Down by the waters edges,
Up in the mountains high,
Looking for the mystical hedge,
That will lead us out of this hell.

Progressively, we moved on unaware,
Crawling, walking, running,
Until we confronted him, standing there.
Bewildered, we just stared.

He was a wan apparition
Doing nothing but his job.
Riding his dark appaloosa,
Down upon us, as was his eternal way.

He stopped and quietly waited.
Time had lost it's meaning.
It is his time now, undebated.
Then the reaper bellowed, ""Time is up!"

Dreams

Silver Bird

They informed my parents of my whereabouts,
They were relieved to know that I was alive,
They are coming to Gold Town on Silver bird,
Which should soon enough arrive.

In a way I'm happy,
For I do love them so.
But I do hope they understand,
Why I had to up and go.

Well it's time for me to bid adieu,
To say farewell and good-bye.
For now I'm homeward bound,
On Silver bird who flies so high.

Paradise Contradiction

I'm a Garden Too

Some say that there was the big bang,
Others say that by God it was created.
A subject discussed over the millenniums,
Even today it is hotly debated.

Matter was formed out of chaos,
Brilliant heavenly bodies appeared;
Galaxies systems, stars, and planets,
All of their dimensions being tiered.

In my lifetime I never thought I’d see,
What I've seen in the past few weeks;
Man still trying to destroy himself and others,
Yet peace obtaining some ultimate peaks.

Nothing is nothing can't be true,
For souls must surely exist.
When the body vehicle is all but ash,
The soul is home so religions insist.

I'm a part of an intricate garden;
And by and by I wonder why,
Is it so hell bent on self-destruction,
So determined to kill and to die?

Some wonder about the end of the world,
Fear stepping into our hearts everyday.
When it happens it will happen,
And we'll be looked after in God' s own way.

Ramblings

Mockery

To be judged by their peers,
Or so you were led to believe.
Was the duty of the judicial system,
But they are out to decieve.
Being a juror you are plucked,
From the populace to be a peer.
But you yourself are to be judged,
By whether you look straight or queer.
No questions about your predujices;
Nor any mention of possible bias,
Nor any reason for the challenge,
The judicial system is a mockery of liars.
So much for being judged by your peers,
Your verdict is deemed before the jury sits.
Barristors and Prosecutors deny the peers,
Because of looks only, it gives me the shits!
A.J. CORKERY 20TH APRIL 1994

Serenades to a Priceless Princess

I See an Eagle

Do you remember the first letter,
I gave you not so long ago.
I still drop in a few lines,
To let my feelings flow

I am writing yet another,
Beneath a rising moon.
A message entwined in verse,
Will be spoken aloud soon.

Whenever I see an eagle,
In a cloudless sky,
Love turns to reality,
Letting out a silent cry.
Yearning to be so free,
Obsessed to be as one;
Understanding what you see,
May be possible under love’s sun.
Accepting one’s responsibility as,
Rains wash reasoning out of sight,
Restoring to light a love,
Yes! A love so bright.
Mesmerising eyes have my heart.
Eternally, our souls will never part.

Special

Bag of Memories

The preparation for the journey was to be long,
Your pain and drawn out good-byes from the throng.
To help you on your travels I give you this song,
With this added baggage of memories to carry along.

Too many memories for such a short time,
Yet treasured and held close to this heart of mine.
To my darling soon to rest above,
The one real memory is that of our love.

Son and daughters of bond, not blood,
Send these memories of eternal love.
From the white rose to the white dove,
These words cannot convey the depth of their love.

Ever the more so, is love thicker than water,
These memories come from your eldest daughter.
The touch of your hand and soft, baby like skin
That reflected the love and purity that came from within.

Another remembers the smile upon your gentle face,
When you both danced the dance of waltz and grace.
And although she knows things will never be the same,
Whenever she dances, she’ll dance with you again.

Little words but of sincere trusting care,
Advice always given from a love so rare;
“Listen to me and you will far,
A close friend will teach you to drive in my car!”

“Carretse, Nonno ….Carretse, Nonno”, Caress me;
Grandchildren one and all cherish this memory.
And from those of us who joined in late,
Safe journey to you our father, companion, and mate.
Written and Illustrated at Dincara’s Lair for and on behalf of Margery, Susan, Marina, and Colin and their respective families.

The Garden

Brothers of Gub

I am a member, of the Brothers of Gub.
I, myself am a member of the lower order,
Being just a normal, humble Surtic;
Not even recognised as being a marauder.

One day, I'm going to be something;
Maybe even a Quinharle, or even a Faelminer.
I may even end up being , an Ecal Gub;
That promotion is a raise, that couldn't be finer.

They get the best jobs, and rewards.
Imagine, never again, being placed in the line;
The line of death, the confrontation of good.
Instead of drinking Emils, able to drink wine.

If only he would let me go,
Let me become one of my brothers,
Then, and only then will I sublet,
And show some respect, to the others.