i carve you out
of already alive
and lavish landscapes; build silent,
lived horizons about you, still do.
...
as rain sloshed everything else,
you in my gut, again.
i try to think about outside,
...
sometimes when the traffic weakens
you feel you could have the run of the city
in memorium. when there were
no capitalisations, only silent confetti
...
spirited hounds
leave no stone unturned,
haunt fair game
in nature's realm.
...
Marty is an independent Irish poet, born in Tyrone, now living and writing in Belfast. Marty works for the Belfast Trust and has poems published in both online and print journals. He is currently submitting work for publication which will inform his first collection.)
'From Cavehill'
i carve you out
of already alive
and lavish landscapes; build silent,
lived horizons about you, still do.
i paint the offing of you,
still raise with care
some infant dreams.
write lines, fill books
foaming toward a ceiling;
no wheres and not heres,
form rock crop parts
of this place, hold all and none
as room for this
static sketch of breath.