Marooned

This was a poem written in response to this post Long Lost At The Shore – http://wp.me/p6zoPj-6U by Frank Solanki. Thanks Frank.

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Somali Pirates

Here’s a song I wrote about five years ago when Somali pirates were the big thing in the news every day of the week. (I also wrote the first chapter of a novel, however I lost momentum when I discovered that Wilbur Smith had just published one on the same topic. Another unfinished first chapter to add the the pile.)
My smile is turning upside down
Like a clown left out in the rain.
I wandered through the empty town
And never saw your sun again.
I wanted to think about you and me
And the times when we were just all right
But instead the only thing I see
Are Somali pirates in the night.

Sailing in their motorboats
Their grins and guns give me a fright
I hope I never ever see
Somali pirates in the night

You left me with a head of dreams
Melting like some toast on cheese
My river now is just a stream
My trees, some paper leaves.
My thoughts turn to my memories
Like the time you set my fire alight
But the fire will only ever remind me
Of Somali pirates in the night

Photo Challenge Day 3 – Water

I’m a dried-out Paddy

In a land of warmth and sun

So when we get a drop of rain,

My reaction is ‘What fun!’

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the city I live in right now has many beautiful things to recommend it, but if there is one thing which it is sorely lacking, especially for an Irishman, is water. Right now it’s the “rainy season”, and this wet street outside my work was the best I could do. The following photos are from last August. One in Ireland, one in Spain, both near water.
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Kinsale Harbour, Co. Cork, Ireland.
A beautiful picnic spot on a mild August evening.
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This was taken on the night of the ” Super Moon” walking on Malvarrosa Beach in Valencia. I used a portrait shot to attempt to capture the moon’s rays dancing across the water towards me.

Atlantic Drifter

Storm clouds gather in the north
The North Atlantic Drift’s in force
But the sun still shines down from the west
as i enter the sea to take a rest
The tide is close, but not too high
The shallows stretch for half a mile
This stretch of busy beach is mine
and the passers-by just nod and smile.
For there’s naught so good as clean sea air
To blow away impending doom
So here I will abide a while
before returning to my dank bedroom
The cliffs and rocks have a sallow hue
partaking of the late sun’s rays
It gives me pleasure, content, and peace
To write down that ‘pon which I gaze.

 

This was originally posted on dermohurley.blogspot.com on August 19 2011

Shoreline

Watching for no one
A lone seagull cries

My eyes, my eyes.
My eyes are drawn skywards 

The gull swoops for fun

And I continue to search for the sun.
Undulating ululating sounds of the shore

The empty strand is never silent

I watch, listen for more
The fast running wavelets knock the sandpipers high

The tiny scavengers flitting to new hunting grounds

Where the tasty buried sandworms abound
Such hunting is a challenge for such tiny birds

One that humans have already faced

But standing alone on this solemn strand

My challenge is to put into words

How nature has all trace of humans erased