Niam Dodd

Niam Dodd Poems

The Best Poem Of Niam Dodd

Time That's Passed

Listless longing for time that's passed
Days of little strain
Portentous feuds and rivalries
Without real issue, no scar tissue

Less commitment, less compromise
Devoid of anxiety through cause and effect
Simple pleasures, simple folk,
Easily thrilled, though laid back and chilled

Up for the laughing and joking
Every weekend proving bliss
School so hit and miss
Impatient, anticipant, temporary enjoyment

Sharing a collective circumstance
Monday to Friday, dense desolate draining
Friday night, Saturday night, intensely sublime
Never subdued, always in a good mood

Individual and unique, common case convention
Several jokers, though a singular force resounding
Participant numbers made variable, a changing dynamic
One gels, another doesn't go as well

Two perceptions encapsulated by one world view
Either lacking in depth or scale
Self-loathing conceives you fail
Though, a quixotic struggle to know

Nocturnal owls, through diurnal means
Aided by our like of leisure lust
Heroes conscious, cowards dormant
Questioning of each one's stability

Favourite lines quoted pithily
Audience theatrics in response
Sporadic being the preferred nuance
Hurried is elation, in its evaporation

Morning seediness in sight
Unnaturally perverse perceptions
Etiquette held captive and tortured

Isolated from self, go home, ease tension, sleep


Pray you run into each other during the week
Reminder of respect received
Make no plans, keep the forthcoming event in mind
Too much time desensitises the spirit

Aware of the imperfections of life
Puerile beings negotiate too
Family ties and social norms
To each we all conform

Acceptant of the boundaries
In this knowledge we are one
Pray not spoil this incessant fun
Never weary that day would come

But no doubt that day would come
Cockiness killed the cat
Equilibrium disrupted
Flippant actions, permanent outcome

Tense, trying, trepidation
A brand new era under alien rule
Parting of the previous system
The group dynamic long gone

Though we let the memory linger on
Verbatim as to revere its legacy
Like decaying organisms of old
Preferred is the happiness, to be re-told.

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