Some Hearts (poem)

I came across this poem tonight as I was sifting through some of my older work. I wrote it when I was twenty-one after a break-up; amazing the emotions that being dumped can pull out of you isn't it?

  I'll be featuring more of my writing from this time in my life in upcoming posts.

Some Hearts

Some nights are better spent alone

Some lives best lived apart

Some hearts are better left untouched;

Their flames burn brightest at the start.

Some questions are better left unanswered

Some feelings never chanced

Some tears are better left unshed

Some dances never danced.

Some walls are better left unbroken

Some love best left ungiven,

Because when all that we think

And feel has been spoken

Some hearts aren’t always forgiven.

Graphic by lucaszoltowski 2008-2010 .  Photo credit here.

"Unforgettable" (erotica)

Your body bare and wonderful before me
Writhing exquisitely upon your lover,
Hips firm and straddled
As you slowly make love.

Room dim, the music pumps emphatically
Still you sway to your own rhythm.
Aware of my presence,
Yet oblivious
Blissfully accepting of my gaze.

Long hair cascades over your brow
Partially concealing your face,
But none of your pleasure.
Casting a sideways glance
You look deeply into me,
And at this moment we're no longer strangers.

I sweep the dark mane aside
To see the story in your eyes
Bursts of light that dance within
Fade in the sunset of your eyelids
As he moves within you.
My God you're beautiful.

You take my hand in yours
And place it on the smooth orb of your bottom
I seek out every inch of you here,
Your back, your shoulders.
Muscles tighten and release in response
As you move beneath my touch,
And upon his.

Raising yourself slightly
You silently invite me to explore the nearest breast.
I knead it, soft and warm beneath my fingers.
My arousal mounts.

Everything surrounding melts away
Leaving only our bodies, our desire.
Yet seemingly as soon as it began it's over.


Days have passed as mere seconds
And I play you continuously in my mind
Forever captivated
By this vision of you.

Footprints

  My life was touched by another today. A broken soul, lost in darkness. Yet I saw so much more; determination, passion, hope. Amazing isn’t it, how we can be surrounded by caring hearts yet sometimes feel so alone. But can we ever truly be broken, if still holding hope that tomorrow may bring with it even the slightest chance of healing?

  The intense emotion of these internal battles, with angels and demons pit against one another is unsettling, yet exhilarating. Emotions of others wash over me as water over rock, and if in so doing they erode me they also polish and refine my edges. The tide of despondence is almost relentless, yet every wave brings with it for me a new experience, a new piece of life. With this too comes guilt for taking interest in the pain of others, but paradoxically allows greater understanding and ultimately strength to walk beside them. The darkness is captivating. I’m drawn not because I wish to see it consume, but because it’s so often accompanied by light. This I’ve found unwavering. As much as we may feel so, none of us truly will find contentment forever bathed in shadows.

  We don’t stand alone uninfluenced or unaffecting; every breath we take, every single heartbeat echoes in another. Each word we speak affects someone. We wear our conversations like clothes, wrapping ourselves in compassionate words, eager to keep warm and safe. If scornful they hang off us like tattered rags.

  Every woman, each man and child influences us through their presence. We give and take of ourselves as much in passing on the sidewalk as through constant interaction. Why must we feel we walk the earth weightless without leaving imprints behind? Our footprints are not always visible to our eye but they are there, and they are followed. They’re ours to make deep so that others may have a solid footing.

  My life was touched by another today. And through the manic deluge of emotion and uncertainty she allowed a glimpse of light, interspersed amongst the heaviness of her words. And I felt strangely comforted. Because where light glimmers, hope glimmers in anticipation.

Photo credit http://www.faqs.org/photo-dict/phrase/883/footprints.html

The Unpublished Poem ("Love Story")

I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to post this. It’s the first and only poem I’ve ever written for somebody to give to someone else. I’ll give you the background behind it.

I first began blogging in March of last year, and very shortly afterwards stumbled across the blog of a young woman in Australia. The way she wrote about her boyfriend was charming and completely captivated me. It was innocent, and honest, and passionate, and everything it should be. We started corresponding and soon became good friends. Several months later she revealed that she was much younger than I had thought, and that she had been writing under a pen name to protect her privacy. I thought it was a smart decision. Telling me was a huge step for her, she was afraid she’d lose my friendship. She didn’t.

In the following months she experienced an extremely traumatic event in her life which she confided in me, we were able to talk through it and it strengthened our relationship. (She and Sandy traded a few e-mails as well). She became not only a friend but I felt as protective of her as someone would their own daughter. It became an incredible relationship.

We don’t talk as often as we used to but are still in touch. It’s been an amazing thing to watch her grow through this part of her life, to see her learn from her experiences good and bad. She’s a fighter and has moved on, and although the relationship I wrote the poem about has since ended she’s found another who treats her well. Makes me very happy.

Most lines in the poem refer specifically to their relationship. She loved the Taylor Swift song it's named after. He always got down on one knee and proposed marriage, and she always accepted (“So come to me on bended knee”). He was her ‘prince’, she was his ‘Juliet’. Said he made love like a tiger, hence “tiger skin”. And so on.

So here it is. One chapter in a young woman's life whose book has just begun.

Love Story

So come to me on bended knee,

And calm my insecurity.

We'll lay beneath the Aussie skies,

Fight the dark and greet sunrise.

With stained-glass rays to warm our face

We'll run each day's uncertain race.

Love's moments spent near or apart

With you forever in my heart.

On crashing beach and windswept plain,

Through winter's chill or summer's rain,

We'll act like fools for all to see

Or be content to simply be.

Stolen nights entwined as one

When passion's dance has just begun,

Your deep blue eyes and 'tiger' skin
With every breath I'll breathe you in.

Then hand-in-hand we'll face the day,

Climb obstacles that come our way

And thank the day that we both met

My shining Prince.

Your Juliet.

S., thanks for agreeing to have this published. Our friendship means more to me than I can say.

Timeless (poem)

Timeless


Tears on your window from saddened skies
Seek quiet refuge in your eyes,
As lanterns filled with fireflies
Bring light this dreary day denies.

No longer gripped in passion's throes
Wondering where the rapture goes,
Mind drifts to misty long agos
When romance lived beyond the rose.

I'll sing you tales of maidens fair
With strands of sunlight in their hair,
Forever bathed in golden rays
Warmed by summer's yesterdays.

Playfully chased through billowed field
Each feigned protest artfully revealed,
With chivalrous advance their fate lay sealed
And love's sweet innocence sworn to yield.

It's grandeur of these days you seek
Forever's tears upon your cheek,
Flames rage within your wild heart still
Though tightly grasped in winter's chill.

As shadows play rest heavy eyes
Lost in Gothic lullabies,
Where longing for what's lost subsides
And your knight in shining armour rides.

~Barry O'Shea





Photo credit here. Ice Maiden by ChrisseCool.  2007-2010.

Adrift

For someone who had courage to unfurl her sails.



Adrift



The heart is a ship.
Moored safely in port
It encounters neither danger nor adventure,
Biding time until sun awakens over clear waters.
With bearings plotted it embarks,
Certain of the course to be taken.
But storms lurk
On horizons yet uncharted,
Seas will swell
And toss this frail craft about.

Point your sails into a wind
That steers around the storm,
The brightest star
Calling from darkened skies
Will cast its light upon your bow
To show the way.

And when the winds have died
And your heart is left adrift
A friend will fill your sails
And guide the rest of the way
Until your safe return
To harbour.




Photo credit.

Solitude

"Don’t knock on my door
And you won’t know I've shut you out,
Don’t call me
And you won’t know I'm ignoring you.
Let me deal with this
In my own way
Like I always do.



Alone.




Maybe these things
I keep bottled inside
Will somehow dissipate on their own,
Like carbonation
Fading over time.
It hasn’t happened yet
After all these years.
Maybe this time will be different."


So...how's this working for you so far?

Photo credit here.

Lost

                                       
  For Agata, who has always inspired me with words such as these.


Lost


His touch like summer upon your skin
No place you’d rather be,
Waken in dawn’s early light
To find it’s all a memory.

Did he call you baby
Write your name deep in the sand,
Explain the things you never knew
Or didn’t understand.
Did he chase away the lurking ghosts
Of lovers from another day
As you surrendered to him completely
And got carried away.

Was he just another shadowed hope
Or The One dressed in disguise,
Among the incidents and accidents
You got tripped up in his lies.
Did he call you his sweet darlin’
While he looked into your eyes
As each and every heart beat
Echoed his goodbyes.
Just what is it makes a man
Turn his back I cannot say,
You got lost on his horizon
And were carried away,
Just carried away.

And the days roll by like freight trains
Speeding down a wrong way track
Try to still the memories in your head
But there ain’t no turning back.
All along you somehow knew
You’d breathe for yourself one day.
Swept up like debris caught in his tide
As you got carried away,
Carried away.

Now you stand on higher ground
In a place where you belong,
Took some time to find yourself
But you were with you all along.
All the love you hold inside
Someone will see one day,
Then I’ll watch the words fall off your page
That you‘ve been carried away.

I’ll sit upon that shore again
And watch you carried away.

Darkness

Darkness


Until that night I dared follow
When you thought me not around,
To the shadowed place where you retreat
To play within your darkness.

Silent through midnight’s blue,
Night fell cool upon your breast
Nightgown clinging, hair blown by untamed gale.

Rage of frail curtains blown tattered upon your window,
Tossed asunder.

And I, your eyes averted,
Silently mirrored your descent down spiral stairs.
Brushing aside cobwebbed memories
With each cautious step.

You asked aloud for someone there,
No one answered but the night.
And within your windblown heart
I wonder if you remembered
That I once swept through there too.

Daybreak peered through gaping floorboards.
And huddled in a corner,
Knees pulled to chest
You did not stir.
Nothing but to hold silent vigil
Until you were ready
To face the light again.

If I close my eyes
Will you take me to your hiding place
Where you mend pieces of your shattered past,
In those quietest of hours
Lit by memories of brighter days
And a more hopeful tomorrow?




Photo credit here.

Mindscape

How to not think you a poem,
When your words give rhyme to uncertainties?
How to not think you a song,
When you harmoniously resonate through the mind?
How to not think you a bird,
When you fly unencumbered by life's gravity?
How to not think you nature's fury,
When like a gale you stir the soul?

How to not think you?

 
 
 
Photo credit here

Reflecting

You were my 'first', my best. I never knew unconditional love until you came along. I shared all my deepest secrets, you never told anyone. You listened when I was upset, never once interrupted and kept the same knowing smile on your face always. We shared my bed every night and snuggled close through the best and worst days. You kept me warm and comforted, and always loved me back.

Every day was fun. We knew it couldn't last, that the world wasn't made for us to be together long. And when the day came that I had to let you go, cast you aside, I think you knew why. You came into my life for a reason and were a huge part of who I became. And although we've long since parted, please always remember.
You were the best teddy bear a boy could ever ask for.

I've heard some intense things this past week, so my mind's taking a break here for a while. We all lose our innocence in life, some lost it too soon. This is for you.

If

If you want to make a difference don't move mountains, move people.



Photo credit here .

The Music Man

I hope this doesn't bum you guys out too much, but I've been going through some of my older writing (back to Grade One actually) and came across this piece.

When I was younger a friend of our family passed away from cancer. I didn't know him extremely well, that is to say I don't remember a lot about him now except he was taken too soon, as always seems the case.

Peter was a gentle family man, a musician who loved to sing and play guitar with his band. I wrote this a week before my 22nd birthday; it was really for his entire family but inspired by the emptiness I saw in his young daughter's eyes. I've always found writing to be therapeutic; I guess I wrote this to help me deal with seeing her like that, which if I'm honest upset me even more than his passing.


The Music Man

The music man appears on stage
The song begins to play,
The night burns on, each note each page
We know he's here to stay.

The people seemed happy for the chance
To watch him for a while
I felt his warmth shine as I danced
And saw it in his smile.

But tonight the stage is silent
The singer's now at rest,
There was one song yet to be played
And God made His request.

And now your eyes seem lifeless
As I look at you through mine,
A deep and dark cold emptiness
But a little light still shines.

For though he gave you love in life
And taught you how to care,
He brought some of the love you learned
To hold onto up there.

I still can hear his music;
In his music was his heart.
So if you can think of him and sing
You'll never be apart.

And though I know he left too soon
Please be strong my friend,
Because however beautiful the tune
Every song must end.




God Bless, Peter.



   

Photo credit here

Colours

                                               

Greet dawn's break with stormy eyes.
Heart pounding,
Mind restless, and wild.

Throughout the night
Memories of The One
Held you captive in their grasp, relentless.
Like a book you can't put down,
Or the forever echo of a lover's beckon
On a fire escape at midnight.

But memories cannot be held nor protected.
They run like watercolours in the rain
Bleeding into one another
Until they're left unrecognizable, distorted and dark.

Perhaps the answer lay
Not in struggling to preserve
These most precious of moments
But in our ability
To paint each day anew.
 
 


Photo credit here.

Shelter

A thunderous cry from the Heavens

Its wrath pours down upon us,

Eager to devour.

With no place to seek refuge

We’re gripped in its deluge.

Exposed.

Strip away your soaked apparel

I’ll hold every inch of you against me.

Envelop you in my arms,

Warm your skin upon mine,

And be your shelter

Until the storm’s pass.

Photo credit: weheartit

Siren Song

For you who have been affected by words of those you've never met.


Siren Song


You came one night
On moonlight’s breath
A gem that shone your name.
Captured me,
With brushstroked words
And set my soul’s canvas aflame.

A painter of pictures
Through eloquent prose
Recount passions burning so strong.
To these words I surrendered
As for me you sang
A beckoning Siren Song.

How ironic this beast
Which exhales cyber glow,
My resolve it tramps and defies,
Would send one as you
To set comfort’s stage
So to discover myself
Through your eyes.

I'll slip off this fabric
That veils me from the rest
My heart before you I'll bare
Our eyes not to meet
In defiance I ask
To reveal your Self as you dare.

Sketch your mind's portrait
With wind-weathered chalk
Wonder if this will last, for how long.
Still my soul answers freely
And forever it seems
To your beckoning Siren Song.



Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission. Photo credit here.

Passion

"Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before."
-Imogen Heap, 'Hide and Seek'


Passion. It's been my favourite word in the English language for as long as I can remember. It's the driving force behind the grandest accomplishments, greatest works of art and the most beautiful expressions of the heart imaginable. It can raise buildings, bring bodies together and turn dreams into reality.

I wrote this last year. At the time I wasn't featuring my own writing on my blog so I didn't post it but I remembered it recently, so here it is...

Passion


"Passion can be your greatest ally or your worst enemy.
It'll lift you up then turn around and tear you down within seconds.
Passion can fill your heart until it swells, or break it until you question whether it will ever recover.
It can push you to do things to appear a hero in someone's heart, or make them endlessly doubt your motives.
It'll make you feel higher than any drug, yet bring you to a place where you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.
Passion is the Soul's child, forever needing, forever hungry.
It is a living, breathing, seductive beast that will embrace you but consume you if you let it.
It'll breathe life into you, then mercilessly draw your last gasp without warning.
Passion is as vital as air, and I can't breathe without it."
 
 
Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.

The Pretender

The Pretender


Strut with false bravado
Sure to catch their eye
Flash your Cary Grant persona
As you slowly pass them by.

Who’s your victim this time,
Falling for your game?
Her aspirations, fears and hopes
As incidental as her name.

Pray the in-crowd notices
With her draped upon your arm
Alone corrupt her innocence
With coy, pretentious charm.

Sell yourself just to impress,
Brag of a prowess you’ll never possess,
Break everything around you
You strain for that sound
In the backseats
And heartbeats
That you knock around.

And you treat their dreams like playthings
And you drop them without care
Beneath your three ring circus tent.
As you juggle them in the air.

Then light those taunting shadows
That fill your silent home
Believe nights of broken promises
Beat sleeping all alone.

But when the doors close behind you
And your darkest night sets in
The only empty space inside this house
Will be the one that lies within.



Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

Through Your Eyes

Through Your Eyes


Someone leaves your life. Do you cry because those times have ended or smile because they happened?
The sun shines. Do you cover your eyes or bask in its warmth?
A baby cries. Do you cover your ears or rejoice in life reborn?
Clouds thunder. Do you run for shelter or wait to play in the rain?

Do you eat up life or do you let life consume you?
 
 
Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

My Favourite Chemistry Lesson

My Favourite Chemistry Lesson


Eyes lock across a room
Two entwine in silent dance,
Synergy
Energy
Chemistry at a glance.

Hormones
Pheromones
Embrace with this attraction,
Brain synapses fire
In neurological reaction.

Colours fill your eyes,
Blur your mind as you hold close.
Dopamine
Amphetamine
The rush, flushed skin exposed.

Longing, aching, trembling
Until release leaves you warm
Desire
In its most primal and purest form.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved. 
Do not reproduce without permission. Photo credit: "Disturbed Synapses" by waugh 2004-2009. All rights reserved.  Link here.

Released

Released


What goes on in your good-girl mind
Hushed from temptuous thought and deed,
As if being done a favour.
“Please do tell me how to act," they think to hear,
"For I know not what I want.”
Oh, if they only knew of the strength of your desire
To unfurl your wings in their midst
And fly untethered.

But when night visits and your thoughts play alone
And you drift, freeing your will from another’s grasp
What do you dream as your eyes weigh heavy?
While The One beside you sleeps.
Do you welcome another to your door ,
To your bed?
Do you breathe his breath as your own,
Heart against heart
Feeling his life inside you.
Writhing beneath the weight of his mass,
Giving in to that beautiful release.
Breathless body strewn across crumpled sheets,
Spent, used,
But blissfully fulfilled.
And again.

And the hours pass unnoticed,
Their birth and decay measured only
In reckless heartbeats
Teeth-torn wrappers scattered around you.
Fading droplets in your glass.
This moment a lifetime.

All too soon the sun greets your window
And The One stirs,
Signalling a return to your world.
Accompanied, yet alone.

What goes on in your good-girl mind
What shadows lurk, what secrets to find?
Would you surrender yourself
For one night of sin
When the wind blows through your door
And the wolf creeps in?



Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

The Embrace

The Embrace


I called
You did not answer.
Not right away, not in words.
Your mind was elsewhere.
Perhaps with the one
Who came before me,
Perhaps in that place we exist
In those magical few seconds
Before sleep takes over
And brings with it visions
Of things we dare not betray.

You spoke my name
Carried through the breeze on a sigh,
Stopping only to rest upon my ear.
I turned and there you were,
Your breast pressed against me
Felt your warmth, your rise and fall.
Breathless.

"Where were you?", I asked,
Relieved by your presence.
"I've been with you all along," came the answer
"Here," your hand resting upon my chest.
I pulled you in,
Vowed to keep you close
And kissed your soul,
As you had mine.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved. 
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

Right Now

Right Now


Right now a young couple is trembling nervously in the back seat for the first time.
Right now someone is taking his last breath.
Right now she’s picking up the groceries she just dropped.
Right now someone's had a bad car accident.
Right now a girl is brushing herself off and getting back on her bicycle.
Right now you’ve temporarily forgotten about that big bill you’re wondering how to pay.
Right now a life has been created.
Right now she's wondering if she should reveal how she feels about him.
Right now he’s just proposed. She's thinking about it.
Right now the sun has set over the Great Barrier Reef and we missed it because we're at our computer.

Every second of every minute of every hour of every day, every imaginable aspect of life is unfolding all around us. It’s relentless and our opinions or excuses won’t change it. Right now something could happen that will affect your life forever. Will you be ready when it happens? Will you be able to say that you’ve lived as you planned to, as you want to, or have at least taken steps in that direction?

Call that person you’ve been afraid to. Write the story you’ve been meaning to get around to “some day”. Tell that someone how much they mean to you. Take a chance and stretch out of your comfort zone.

Because right now is all we have.
 
 
Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

Life's Music

Everyone’s life is a song that needs to be heard.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

Searching

                                  

Searching

In evenings we find solace,
With sunrise, hope.
In seeking recognition we find humility.
By admitting weakness we discover strength.

In times of trauma we’re reborn.
Through introspection we seek to understand,
But are met with unanswerable questions.

In seeking to know others we discover wonder
And in so doing, find ourselves.

 
Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

Rose

If I could plant a rose every time I thought of you the world would be a garden.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

vignette- Saturday Morning Cafe

Danielle set the overflowing mug of latte on the table and nestled into ‘her’ comfy chair, in the corner of her favourite local cafe. She had always thought of this place as quaint, a word not used often these days but still somehow perfectly describing the atmosphere and charm it held. She had recently made a routine of coming here every Saturday morning. In actuality there was no point; she had an espresso machine in her apartment and was more than capable of making whatever she wanted. But the shop was comforting in its familiarity and besides, she reasoned, a single girl in her twenties needs to get out if she's to ever meet someone.

Pulling the novel from her purse she rested its worn cover on the table’s edge and opened the bookmarked page, briefly allowing her eyes to sweep through the room. The cafe was surprisingly busy this time of morning. Her eyes were half-turned back to the book when she spotted him. Danielle had seen him here each Saturday around this time, which perhaps was a large reason for her continual return. Impeccably dressed in business attire, she couldn’t help but wonder what he did for a living. Executive? Salesman?

Whatever the case, the laptop always occupied a good amount of his time. This morning as any other he was fixated on the screen, which allowed her the usual time for stolen glances. The kind accompanied by quick aversion of our eyes when the subject of our attention looks our way, should (God forbid) they ever notice our interest. Their eyes had never met yet she couldn’t help but wonder if he played the same coy game, and was as skilled as she at not being obvious. Danielle grinned, fully knowing that without this distraction she would have finished the novel long ago.

No matter.

She lazily sipped on the hot drink, awash in morning sun as it came around and began gently streaming through the window. This was her favourite part of the day, a chance to enjoy some quiet solitude before the reality of chores, errands and phone calls intruded.

Only this morning was different. Because with one careless glance, one glimpse too long, this man who had remained elusive for so long looked up and met her eyes with his.

Oh crap! She froze, just long enough to catch his smile before quickly turning feigned attention to her book. She was afraid to look back up, a million thoughts running through her head. ‘What did that mean? Was he even looking at me? Of course he was stupid, you’re sitting in the corner. There’s no one behind you.'

From the corner of her eye she caught his form as he closed the laptop and rose from the table. Making his way towards her, he turned not towards the door but instead to where she was sitting, and before Danielle knew it he was before her. This couldn’t be happening.

He leaned in.

"I wouldn't normally say this but..."

The anticipation of words to come hung in the air for an eternity. She wanted to clutch her chest, almost afraid he'd hear her heart racing. She stared into his eyes, embarassingly lost in the depth of blue gazing back at her. He moved in closer still. God he smelled good.

"You have some foam on your nose," he grinned, then slowly disappeared through the door.

Danielle slunk into the chair, exhaling silently for no one else to hear,

"Shit".


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission. Photo taken by me.

vignette- Saturday Morning Cafe (alternate ending)

Danielle set the overflowing mug of latte on the table and nestled into ‘her’ comfy chair, in the corner of her favourite local cafe. She had always thought of this place as quaint, a word not used often these days but still somehow perfectly describing the atmosphere and charm it held. She had recently made a routine of coming here every Saturday morning. In actuality there was no point; she had an espresso machine in her apartment and was more than capable of making whatever she wanted. But the shop was comforting in its familiarity and besides, she reasoned, a single girl in her twenties needs to get out if she's to ever meet someone.

Pulling the novel from her purse she rested its worn cover on the table’s edge and opened the bookmarked page, briefly allowing her eyes to sweep through the room. The cafe was surprisingly busy this time of morning. Her eyes were half-turned back to the book when she spotted him. Danielle had seen him here each Saturday around this time, which perhaps was a large reason for her continual return. Impeccably dressed in business attire, she couldn’t help but wonder what he did for a living. Executive? Salesman?

Whatever the case, the laptop always occupied a good amount of his time. This morning as any other he was fixated on the screen, which allowed her the usual time for stolen glances. The kind accompanied by quick aversion of our eyes when the subject of our attention looks our way, should (God forbid) they ever notice our interest. Their eyes had never met yet she couldn’t help but wonder if he played the same coy game, and was as skilled as she at not being obvious. Danielle grinned, fully knowing that without this distraction she would have finished the novel long ago.

No matter.

She lazily sipped on the hot drink, awash in morning sun as it came around and began gently streaming through the window. This was her favourite part of the day, a chance to enjoy some quiet solitude before the reality of chores, errands and phone calls intruded.

Only this morning was different. Because with one careless glance, one glimpse too long, this man who had remained elusive for so long looked up and met her eyes with his.

Oh crap! She froze, just long enough to catch his smile before quickly turning feigned attention to her book. She was afraid to look back up, a million thoughts running through her head. ‘What did that mean? Was he even looking at me? Of course he was stupid, you’re sitting in the corner. There’s no one behind you.'

From the corner of her eye she caught his form as he closed the laptop and rose from the table. Making his way towards her, he turned not towards the door but instead to where she was sitting, and before Danielle knew it he was before her. This couldn’t be happening. He leaned in.
"You may not know this, but..."

The anticipation of words to come hung in the air for an eternity. She wanted to clutch her chest, almost afraid he'd hear her heart racing. She stared into his eyes, embarassingly lost in the depth of blue gazing back at her. He moved in closer still. God he smelled good.

Mr. Dreamy gently scooped up a tuft of foam that had dripped down the side of her mug, playfully placing it on the tip of his nose.
“…it looks like we have something in common.” 

Big smirk.

“Oh God.” Danielle whispered, mortified. She cupped one hand over her mouth and wiped it off. “I feel so stupid.”

“Not at all. You look better in latte than any woman I’ve met.” He grinned; she definitely possessed a certain charm. Gesturing toward the chair across from her he placed a hand on its back. “May I?”

The request caught her completely off-guard. “I thought you were leaving.”

“Doesn’t seem that important anymore” he replied, resting his laptop on the table. “I’m Robert...”


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo taken by me.

Matters of the Heart

Sometimes the heart isn't deep enough for differences to be buried.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

Elusive

Elusive

You are the sky
Full of wonder
No beginning, no end.
I breathe you,
Yet you remain hidden from my eye.

White feather flutters, falling through your breeze
Ever elusive.
Not meant to be captured,
Not held in my grasp
But merely desired as it dances upon you
To be carried back to the one
Who set it free.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.

Friends

                                              
A good friend is someone who makes sense of what the heart cannot.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission. Photo credit here.

Brooklyn

Brooklyn

Moonlight bathes these worn tenements
Gray clouds receeded, marking rainstorm’s pass.
And I in torn faded jeans,
Weathered guitar resting in lap,
Keep vigil upon this towering web of stairs.
Your fire escape Romeo,
Futilely awaiting your return.

Was a time we'd have torn the roof off this place to get to each other,
Evading your father’s watchful eye
Mother’s vehement stare.
Chasing dreams like yellow cabs
We lived to make every corner a memory,
Stealing kisses and so much more
Down every backstreet we ran.

But those days have faded
Like neon signs in familiar places,
Having long since closed their eyes.
Where did we go?
Fell in love with a picture we painted
Of our lives together
Like watercolours on the sidewalk
Washed away
When the storms grew too strong for us to repress.

Light fog now rolls down this alley,
Ghostly shadows playing through billowing sidewalk steam.
And here, bathed in dim streetlights’ glow,
Awash in mist and memories,
I’ll sit and wait for you forever
In Brooklyn.

Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

Perspective

                                                   

It takes as much effort to criticize life's ugliness as it does to celebrate its beauty.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

vignette- After Hours

“Does it ever get any easier?” the stranger sighed, staking claim beside me at the bar.

“It’s been a long day," she said. "A long, tiring day."
Letting her bags fall to the floor she kicked off her heels, reaching to rub ankles sore from hours of boutique therapy. But Jimmy and Louis couldn’t take the place of the one who left, his toothbrush still by the sink, few shirts left behind with cologne forever lingering. Pillow empty.

She flagged down the bartender and ordered her favourite Chardonnay, following the ritual of thousands who had come before. “Not much point” she thought, knowing she had drunk too much of this man to ever wash him from her veins.

Swirling the elixir in her glass, mesmerized by its dance she pensively tilted her head towards me, sweeping away a strand of hair covering one eye.

“So what’s your story?”
“It’s all good,” I feigned.
“It’s never all good” she prodded, breaking into a knowing grin.
“Not much to tell,” I answered evasively. “I just came here to unwind.”
After all, why give her even more to think about?

No names given throughout our conversation, none needed- I knew her all too well. The disillusioned heart, the restless mind. Second-guessing everything said or left unsaid. All forever regretted.
Downing the rest she glanced at her watch.
“Well this is me,” she announced and seemingly in one swift movement slipped on her shoes, collected her bags and with a smile was gone.

I silently wished her well, knowing that when my glass was empty and I’d left this place, our seats wouldn’t be still for long. Same scene, same stage.
Different players.



Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.

The Heart's Eye

The photographer reveals not what catches their eye, but what captures their heart.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

She

She

Heart of a woman
Soul of a child,
Her shyness worn like a silken veil.
Sometimes sheer,
Sometimes concealing.

Innocent yet self-aware
She tosses playful glances over her shoulder,
Interest betrayed
By sunset's whisper
In her eyes.
Alluring
Inviting
Captivating

Intoxicating.

Tempering curiosity with restraint
She cannot mask her inner Self,
So deliciously sweet
I can taste her in my mind.



Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.
Painting titled 'Reflecting' by Steve Hanks. All rights reserved.

Thirst

Thirst

When the day weighs heavy
And I thirst for inspiration,
I stand before you
And drink you in.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea.  All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission. Photo credit here.

Nightsong

Nightsong


The sun asleep
Through midnight's chill
My head laid
Upon pillow still
My inner shadows calm.

Curtain flutters
Through careless window
And carried
On a whispered breeze
Your voice comes to me in a Nightsong.

I'll comfort you,
Wrap my words around your naked soul.
As we lie entwined,
Our hands building reasons
To hold off the dawn.

But dawn soon awakes
And paints the canvas of the morning sky
With broad strokes of brilliant fire.

Careless window invites the day.

Shimmering rays of gold
Dance in celebration.
Shadows play
Upon thin sheets that cling to your form.
You stir,
Turn and smile.
And I know
This is where I belong.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

Veiled

Veiled


May I be this bold
To chip away a piece of mortar
In the wall
Which surrounds you,
That I may peer in just a little
And let the light
Melt away
Some of your darkness.

Your glance betrays
Guarded secrets;
How you answer ghosts
Who call your name.
Your Self
Is your strongest weakness.

Still by your side I'll sit,
Take your hand in mine
And read of your life untold
While I wait
Patiently
For you to become
Who you are.


Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.

All I Wanted

All I Wanted


Was a time
Warmed by whispered breezes
Sunrise with you by my side.

Moonlit skies
Blissful nights wrapped up in you, when
You were all I had.

Through all my days
Your stained glass window coloured rays
Of love rained down on me.
Rained on me…

But now you run
Hope something maybe someone
Fills that space that burns inside.

All that’s left
A thousand words unspoken
Lying broken at my feet.

And all you were
And all that I imagined
So much more than you could see.

To let you know
Was all I ever wanted.

Looking back
I never thought that it would be so
Hard to let you go.

Memories
Those pictures have all shattered
Lying scattered at my feet.

Held on too long
I fell too far, you flew too high
To ever come back down.

To let you go
Was all you ever wanted
All you ever wanted.

To have you near
Was all I ever wanted
All I ever wanted...

And you’re not here.


I remember
Those days in my life
You were music
You played for me………



Intellectual property copyright Barry O'Shea. All rights reserved.
Do not reproduce without permission.  Photo credit here.