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I have found hope where there was none,
light where there was dark;
love when all was lost,
these are the stories of my soul...

Unless otherwise noted, all poetry and creative writing is the original work of the author of this blog. All original work is copy righted ©, however feel free to re-blog any entry! Thank you for visiting, enjoy :)

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Posts Tagged: poetry

Goodbye

Goodbye

Waking

Waking

A verse from ‘When We Two Parted’ by Lord Byron

A verse from ‘When We Two Parted’ by Lord Byron

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A dull ache took over the world
one fated day in May.

Flowers struggled to maintain
a simple bloom – that day.

Purveyors of love, were simultaneously
interested and bored.

What a sad day,
that fated day in May.

When the aroma of the spring
matched the stench my heart.

-L.J. Lenehan-
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My friend and author Javier A. Robayo (who is on Amazon.com) has a wonderful question on his website, ‘How did you know when you were a writer?’ I encourage all writers and aspiring writers to answer this question. I wrote the following:

There has never been a defining moment that the universe announced to me ‘you Lael Lenehan are a writer.’ Writing is something I have loved to do since I was a…

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On the blooming daffodils of April, rain chaotically falls, each drop, hesitantly anticipated like…

On the blooming daffodils of April, rain chaotically falls, each drop, hesitantly anticipated like the breath of a dying man,

On the blooming daffodils of April, rain chaotically falls, each drop, hesitantly anticipated like…

On the blooming daffodils of April, rain chaotically falls, each drop, hesitantly anticipated like the breath of a dying man,

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As I sketch each year, I fill the base of a jar, with a fabricated world of dreams ranging in… http://wp.me/s2B9OF-1100

As I sketch each year,
I fill the base of a jar, with a
fabricated world of dreams
ranging in realities

during the early hours of spring,
I think of you – thinking of me,
and I pay for all that blooms,
by shrivelling while my colour drains

for all the world to see,
during heavy rains
I remain many things,
but I am not what they see.

My soul does not sing
in empty fields, nor
does it speak of…

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Glaonna an t-uisce dom
ó thíos an ghealach ar imní
Is féidir liom a chloisteáil macalla de hallelujah.

Pulls an aigéan mé isteach a rúin istigh
le práinne foréigneach,
Léim mé, ag snámh mé amach ar an bhfarraige.

Cad é fíor
tá a thuilleadh chreid
toisc go cuimhin aon duine dom,

mo bhaile folamh,
mo aghaidh featureless,
mo emptiness ar taispeáint,

i sochaí ina bhfuil mé dofheicthe.
An calma…

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Inside the cold lips of women
exists a defining cliché,
that creates a quivering ache,
seducing personal confusion
in to the flames of fire.

Consumed by a sophisticated
aftertaste that lingers –
inside the mind
of the ones left behind,
where messages of love

should be penned, instead
of political condolences
contrived to ease personal
struggle that might lead
to the creation of poetry.

-L.J.…

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My flawless rose, golden prearranged to last a lifespan discoloured, disfigured hidden in a… http://wp.me/s2B9OF-1091

My flawless rose, golden prearranged to last a lifespan discoloured, disfigured hidden in a chastity belt of shame,

My flawless rose, golden prearranged to last a lifespan discoloured, disfigured hidden in a… http://wp.me/s2B9OF-1091

My flawless rose, golden prearranged to last a lifespan discoloured, disfigured hidden in a chastity belt of shame,