You are scarred,
a child too near the fireplace,
As if your proximity was,
As if this grand flame burns
for us all to ignore it.
Perhaps we should condemn the day
and grow nocturnal,
For who wants to watch
the spark that will end us catch.
as your toes gather flecks of cooling ash, You, more than any other,
know how time has a way of romancing spite.
So, never mind our turquoise,
It is only brief,
and cold, slipping through our fingers. There is little solace in knowing
it is deep as any other blue.
we kiss in the rain
to forget we’re getting wet,
And all it’s taught us
is that rust follows every thirst.
So be contented with your rosy cheeks,
burnt, blistering, boiling,
As the hearth nears.
You have the glory of being blameless,
For it is only you
It will take too long to turn us to steam, and by then
we will be desperate enough
to welcome whatever fire
wants to consume us.
- Love Letter to a Red Planet, Ciarán Hodgersreblog
In lieu of my upcoming spoken word CD release the guys at DroghedaLife.com have posted an interview with me about “The Hours” wherein I talk about some of the CD’s influences and the story behind it all.
You can read it here. Thank you.reblog
If you’re in Ireland, and happen to be near Drogheda on the 31st of August please come along to my spoken word CD launch and have a good laugh.1 reblog
As promised, I got 100 followers on Facebook and am celebrating with a noonday treat tomorrow, watch this space.
Also, you’re all lovely and thank you for liking the page - if you haven’t please do, I might be something you’re into.