Biography of Fergal Dunne
Fergal was Born in Birr Co.Offaly in Ireland.
He began writing poetry in 2001.Fergal moved to London in 2005.
'i try to focus on thing that people can relate to.Some are written from personal experiences others from what people have told me and some have come as simply reading a magazine article or watching a tv programme. You will have to guess which ones a personal
ha ha! ! '
Thanks for reading.
Fergal Dunne Poems
Monday morning 10am The sun doesn’t break through, Depressed, Carrying weights
I Kissed Lorraine
I kissed Lorraine, Inside our house made from bales of straw. The sun shone through the tiny gaps And made her blond hair glisten,
When I Get There
The doors are always open, I just can't get down the hall. Like a fly in a cathedral, I just can't find the wall.
Love Is The Enemy
Everything’s gone now And all your heroes are dead You don’t feel like going on Nothings clear inside your head
I wrote her name in the sand And looked at it. I removed it with slight of hand And wrote another,
Poppies fallen and crushed Floated on still pools of muddy water. Across a barren bloodscape, The talent of a thousand
That Piece Is Your Heart
Through sleepless nights I wonder why did we part? Maybe after all I wasn't so smart. Our love was a puzzle, did it end or simple not start And one piece is missing, that piece is your heart.
Nothing left now that the summer is gone But freezing cold nights in a tower block slum. Watching television, words going over your head, Eating cereal for dinner wishing you were dead.
A poppy bloomed beneath her feet, a desolate Place a lover to meet.
Truth And Illusion (A Lesson For The Sou...
The naked eye can deceive And things are not so clear. It’s what they want you to believe That makes them insincere
When Angels Came
All the clocks on the wall, Couldn't forecast when angels would call. And as night turned into day, They came and gently took you away.
War I. Glory And Goodbye Medal, honour, glory shown. Each victory the flag is flown.
Early in the morning I wake up from the drink, I wish I could go to work But my mind can’t even think.
Who Is The Fairest Of Them All
Her pocket mirror was cracked But she liked it like that. Cos sometimes she didn't like What she saw staring back.
I wrote her name in the sand
And looked at it.
I removed it with slight of hand
And wrote another,
To see it I had to stand.
I thought about her face
And I laid back.
The image was easily replaced.