Monday, 21 September 2009

Posted Poetry

The good man Colm Keegan posted me some poetry as he promised (a long time ago it feels) A very nice surprise.




These coloured chalks

Fell into my lap

Fruit from a swaying bag

On a passer by.

So I use them.

To plead and swear

upon the slabs

That you wear and tear upon

and smooth out with your feet.


'Look at me!', I write

'I am beneath you, like the pool

from a leaky radiator,

like the roots beneath the trees.'


My knees don't feel

the cold housed in the concrete

I gave up on heat.

Your street

Is a barren whore to me



I seek to plant nothing

But words.

And if the rain

washes them away

If no-one sees what I say

The chalk dust

At least

will brighten the dirt

trapped by my fingernails.


  1. niiiice.
    you've made me remember all those chalk designs we made, up and down the sidewalk for blocks.

  2. Nice one Uiscebot
    Plead swear wear tear, plant the words.

  3. I liked this very much. I like the way I can't quite touch it.

  4. *leans back in chair and ponders.... slowly smiles.... :-)

  5. Like chalk brightening the dirt under nails, lovely... if only those poor kids had a chalk holder, deprived they were...