Friday, 10 March 2023

Four Poems by Darren Lynch

 


 

Breath of Winter 


Sets of minds ,

Walking fires 

In amicable strangers long emissions of golden thread

Riding the spirals of gambling sleep

On first glimpse dew,

Turning notions of breaking wild 

Conspires the trials of ever truth 

In the promise of an outward propose 

Clenched prodigal strength

To glisten in opening was the biblical cast ,

For we see the jewels of breath 

Intimate for hunger in the dawn of worlds

Collapsing smile in the glimmering low 

And falling oblivion came through sign

How can my words ever reside?

 


The Tavern of Swallows 

 

Confiding flights to the reckoning perfume

Flocks the dwindle in dying celebrations

Unapt to repent in essence

Faces of the warped pave beckon 

Pilgrims of the returning joy 

To hold quenching amaze 

As the wine of promise 

Dwindles in the light of profane

Recalling lovers 

On the first bite wanders away from the feast occur 

Held such glee in embers of truth 

To persist on the scorching valleys  

No shining gains promise 

In the vacuums of joy 

But the wasting scent of youth

In green turmoil 

Connected to the deep

Illicit of soul escaping 

Pleading fury to peripheral dreams 

Hoping to rule purpose 

On due course endless soil 

In effortless waves 

Currents to speak 

Healing wither from the taverns creed 

Lie with the devil and he shall be.

 

 

Bridge of Conception

 

Heralded conception stands on the bridge of past

Messages a link antecedent

As you stand before the orbit of belief

Crawling in the spirals of years 

Concrete was the view of preached archaic

Together in the feel escaping dance

Floor the ballroom of thought coop elud

Understand for the specimens in hand

As the eyes of mast draw clearer in grey shelter

Strangers form the touch of casual joy

Inquisite for the came 

Hours patiently arouse

In jewelled voices ringing on the bygone pages 

Shores of unknown graves 

Alive in the minded ocean fires

Touch of close sun reaching in the surrendered light of night

The under wishing rivers sings the decide of reveal 

Paths

 The water open sounds 

Enlighten me softly golden gates of succession

Voices of immaculate friends

Touching crossing calls

In the arms set of free.

 


The Break in Cronus

 

Death in the kindred spirit

As of cities mount bellows

I am of friend,

 

In the time hallowed

Old beckons 

The due of hours 

Bounding was the promise ascension

Too seat among cold bears

Were the seeds of calmly winter

Placed

In the scent too winds off green escaping

Aspiring birth in the Apollo 

The sun led 

Different ends

Brought to gallows along magnum demi corridors 

I have come alone 

The kind wine descends

In a weary speech 

Reaching along the paths

Of fate stroked findings

The dancing call ,

 

Smile again

Old friend

I have found

The end.

 

By Darren Lynch, Dublin, Ireland. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Five Poems by Connie Johnson

  Spilt Ink      I pick up a pen   I let your love guide   my hand     What you told me   this morning is worth   preserving        What y...