Live Encounters Poetry & Writing February 2026.
Journey by Gordon Ferris.
Journey
Leaving the Mater Hospital on the north circular road exit, using the merry-go-round of an automatic door, careful not to get pushed out , by someone in a hurry, sending him flying.
Onto the North Circular, on to Dorset Street towards the city centre. He could have got the bus but thought he might as well walk while the sun shined.
Having lived in rural Ireland for many years and lost his city ways, it was difficult to resist the temptation to wave at all the cars passing, ( imagine the sore arm he would have if he tried that ) He found himself smiling and nodding at all the people he passed, immediately reigning himself in, embarrassed when he realized what he was doing.
Onto Blessington Street, glancing at the apartment where many years earlier his virginity had been lost. ( careless of him) Still, the same bright red door after all these years, recollecting the attic room, where the stars could be seen from the skylight window that dripped water into a pot, he imagined how she probably has changed, probably married now with kids, a dog, a cat, or both. She probably lived in Enfield, her home town, she was of monied parents. Way above his station he thought.
He loved and hated the trips to Dublin for the outpatient appointments in The Mater every six months, loved the journey on the bus, where one could choose to be alone, thinking clearly without being distracted by a million little things that popped into his head or caught his eye, be it real, imagined, people he knew or stranger’s. The thing that annoyed him most, of course, was being probed and poked by the doctors, and waiting for the results, with the slim possibility that he could be kept in , ( it had happened many times before.) But thankfully not this time. He had been having good results in recent visits, after being persuaded to change his lifestyle by the painful procedures and by the life-threatening illnesses he endured. He hadn’t to go back now for a year, an improvement on his usual six-monthly visits.
So on now past Walton Music shop he walked with purpose, not sure if he was going to get the early bus home or go for a ramble through the city streets, rekindling memories of his past, hoping and to some extent dreading the slim possibility he could run into some of those people who haunted his past.
He decided to cross the road at the Garden Of Remembrance, and head towards Moore Street and Henry Street via Parnell Square, memories flooding back of a childhood he cherished, with probably exaggerated fondness.
Passing the Rotunda hospital he recalled the night his firstborn came into the world.
He remembered the excitement,
the nervousness when he
held his daughter for the first time,
afraid he would squeeze her too tight,
or let her drop,
but then he felt her tiny hand
grip his thumb
and knew things
were all right with the world that day.
Past Dunnes and Pennies, resisting the temptation to enter the usual shops he frequented when he needed new clothes, but shopping bored him, he hated it, he preferred the times his ex-wife , or s mother used shop for him, but that wasn’t possible anymore. Now when he needed anything, he did his shopping as quickly as possible, if they sold clothes in bookshops or music stores he would be the best-dressed man in Donegal.
In O Connell Street he decided to go somewhere for coffee, but not into one of those fancy coffee shops, where they sell you many different types of coffee at exorbitant prices and then expect you to leave a tip, No. He would go into the Sackville Lounge where his Grandad was a regular many years ago and bought his is first pint.
© Gordon Ferris
Gordon Ferris was born and raised in Finglas, a North West suburb of Dublin. In the early eighties, he moved to Donegal where he has lived ever since. He started writing in 2014 and has had many short stories and poems in publications including Hidden Channel, A New Ulster, The Galway Review, Impspired Magazine, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Corncrake Magazine, Flare Magazine and Live Encounters. He has also won prizes in the summer 2020 HITA Creative Writing Competition for his poem ‘Mother’ and was joint winner in the winter competition for his poem ‘The Silence’. Poetry Ireland awarded Gordon a, Poetry Town Bursary in 2022. In January 2023, Impspired published his first book, Echoes, a short story collection. In December, Impspired published his second book, A Mirror Looking Out, a poetry collection, under the brilliant guidance of the late Steve Cawte.