Emer Lyons (11/05/1988 / Bandon, Co. Cork, Ireland.)
Biography of Emer Lyons
Emer Lyons Poems
I'Ve Forgotten What I Learnt Yesterday.
</>We trotted to the slaughter, eyes wide with dollar signs. “Souls for sale” or exchange for Caviar and Pink lemonade.
I Can'T See
The fog, the mist; it carries me down. I wouldn't call it
On The Blasé Bus
I thought I didn’t care now. Stoicism was my new tenet. Looking at the fan club makes my Conscience quake.
I am not one of the brave, I am afraid. Not one of "those." I could perhaps be happy with both choices: Oh the controversy.
The green of my heart, Blackens my soul. The flesh of the old, Crumbles in my hands.
I thought, if I spoke LOUD enough; someone would hear and talk back.
I am looking down But I still feel it, I know he is there: Looking at me.
Looking, not looking; which is worse? Yes, I can see your chair,
Bats Aren'T The Only Ones Who Work At Ni...
Like bats we flock to the night; wide-eyed, alert. Working overtime.
Bee's Required For Casual Position
I want to be a caterpillar, but you need a bee. I can be a bee!
I Know Her So Well.
</></>I built this woman carefully: I constructed her piece by piece. But when she turned and looked at me:
I Don'T Need A Revelation.
</>So you push, drag, shout, revolt. I sit at home and watch. My new book is very good, The only reason I
</></>How one memory can make a life, one moment. I heard your buckle rattle in the night; I hid myself under the duvet cover: Pretending not to spy. Your feet are at my head, in “our” wooden crooked bunk beds.
Looking, not looking;
which is worse?
Yes, I can see your chair,
My peripheral vision
Warns me to be PC.
My downcast gaze,
May as well be the first