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Live Encounters Poetry & Writing April 2023
Somewhat Refreshed, poems by Patricia Walsh.
Somewhat Refreshed
Euhemerism after a fashion, sincere,
The risible station wrapped around song,
The median too scorched to desist,
Hated for what it is remains cubic.
This overdue satire bundles its prediction
Expense one after the other falls long
The mask of authority waits on its speed
The crossover sarcasm wasting love.
This remains so, the better over hours
Sinking one alcohol after next is a given,
Telling to strip gets worse with repetition
Driving to destinations still uninvited.
Painting the coloured walls gladly,
The embarrassed failure won’t rush itself
Nor budge, constant beating to typicality
The easier time-frame floods the same.
Knowing who is on the block singing true
Expertise, to be sure, exacting profit,
Proof of purchase desists from this day
Waking up to a lively glory exacted soon.
All suitors look the same, seed or otherwise
Carefully driven, the accidental scribe,
Apposit publications sing a common purpose
Marrying for preference is not a bad idea.
Collectors’ Items
What would it mean to be a chattel,
Spending money unheard of, racked imagination,
The historic upsets, alcoholic expense
Never being alone, in the sunnier hour
Watching decrepit institutions rummaging past.
The weakening mind burns on its axis
The trees’ own business sailing forth
Predictable vehicles costing the forwarded earth
Notified whether to crash and burn quietly.
Eating and drinking to death, this gorgeous station
The prescribed godsend won’t break this heart
Line by line, beautifully sinking slowly
Bowing to the toe-rag, elevating the creep,
Cordial credentials gone like never been.
Underemployed, overlearned, caught in a myriad
Of sought notice, collapsing into war,
Mere tolerance not enough to carry it’s weight
Drinking offbeat coffee to stall the desecration.
Turning into the choices we make
Thought -provoked vacancy, greener the better
Retaining through neglect a fireworn charm
Learning trades, turning on its own tomorrow’s
The slotted hatred running gauntlets amok.
Moving Darlings Over
Take these suicidal riches, drink before dawn,
The amoral compass needling the baby,
Cautionary fables hitting anything for tenpence
The aggressive quiet, misuse of holy ground.
Limited by drinks, cashless redemption
Government of the vanities simpering forth
Prizes given, sought by a metres’ breadth
The tame rover rummaging over another exit.
The singular conversation, perennial to the cause
Carved-up muscle flexed and sore,
Caffeine and sugar a staple of the edible
Tortoise fuel for the already misbegotten.
Vacated sharpish, on dint of another loss
Previous misdemeanours slice to the marrow,
Sucked out of life, the sacked of rote
The going rate is suspended as if never been.
Applauded like the false prophets, swinging shifts
Quality of livelihood wiped down summarily
Amazing how it is done, shielded, forthwith
Walking through the gauntlet of sudden birth.
Premonitions for the greater good, shallow dreaming
Take these shattered wings and run aground again,
A petrified Nike lights the advertised machine
Crying through tips to call the little ones home.
© Patricia Walsh
Patricia Walsh was born and raised in the parish of Mourneabbey, Co Cork, Ireland. To date, she has published one novel, titled The Quest for Lost Eire, in 2014, and has published one collection of poetry, titled Continuity Errors, with Lapwing Publications in 2010. She has since been published in a variety of print and online journals across Ireland, The UK, USA, and Canada. She has also published another novel, In The Days of Ford Cortina, in August 2021.