Adrian Taheny

“And all our planes returned safely” he said
And a packed room sat in disbelief
But hung on every word that emanated
From that magical box on the kitchen table.
...

Well fed, he contemplates
Vein, in vain, varicose veins!
On a lean hand. Moving nowhere.
Terracotta pots with apologetic plants
...

At eighty five, at home, alone
Watching Sky and watching phone.
Talked to no-one all the day
No one called, or so you say.
...

Bailey, daily, nightly, brightly
Danger reckons, beacon beckons
Stranger, warning, keep well clear
Pass by safely in my care.
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Why don’t they come anymore?
Why don’t they stop and pray?
Why don't they remember,
That I’m still here each day.
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When God created woman
In all her glorious splendor,
He ate spare ribs with Adam
And considered where to send her.
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Back, beyond the womb, through a closed door,
To a sacred place, where time began.
I am aware and gaze upwards, fearful,
As I listen to familiar sounds, breaking the silence.
...

Great plates of sandwiches
after midnight mass on Xmas eve
feed muffled discussions about
the racket at the back of the church
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Cows cower in hedge rows
And new lambs leap innocently.
Out of the depths of winter, awaken,
With every blooming thing.
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Saturday morning sleep of a schoolboy
Broken by the regular ringing of
asses and carts and the two churns
rattling together filled with
...

16th of June 2009

Bloomsday in Ireland, in Dublin, everywhere James has made an impact,
Original edition sold yesterday signed by the author for £200k plus, intact.
...

A man asked us to tell a story and draw a picture.
“It will hang on a wall for a full year” he said.
We sit on walls in Dublin and tell stories,
But no one ever puts us in the picture.
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“The family can go in now”
The nurse said in a solemnly caring way.
And I sat outside on my own
On the night that Frank died.
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Dark clouds move menacingly across my sky
As I gaze skyward to my heavenly home.
Trees shiver, unclothed on this dark night
And I can’t find sleep in an active mind.
...

He stares at strangers in the room
A blank deep look of want and care.
His memories all gone too soon
His life, his work, a canvas bare.
...

When my friend had a change of heart,
He really had a change of heart.
He got someone else's heart,
Who didn't need it anymore.
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Love is lost; mine or yours?
Love no longer now endures.
What was once, no longer here.
Gone forever, what was there.
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After school on winter evenings
Under watchful eye of two generations
The third wrestled with the complexities
Of times tables and grammar.
...

Softly, he left us and
We will always remember
That first September, when suddenly
He was no longer amongst us.
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