Alive.

Alive.

Solidarity.

Innocence.

I dive through the warm water.

A loving cat,

A friend so close.

Fleeting touches

Reach out through space.

Step out of the fog

That clouded my mind.

For obstacles

Are not endings.

And persistence

Will keep you alive.

Hope.

Hope.

Stand alone amongst the trees.

New and old

A fascinating discovery.

I know.

That I will not remember

The details.

But always

The feeling

Will stay.

it is 5am. And I am awake. I do not feel tired and I do not feel utterly hopeless. The latter is good, the former, not quite as good.

It's funny how time is at a standstill, at 5am. I could be in an airport, a hotel, a plane. Time stands still, the same.

There is an emptiness to 5am. A quiet poetic stillness and softness that lingers in your mind.

An edge of desperation, milling in the edges of the vast empty time and space and everything and Nothing.

5am. I hear the cars pass by on the not so distant road, and remember car journeys at 5am. My mind does not linger on the past.

It is 5.04. I should probably sleep soon.

- Jay.

#jaywrites #5am #tiredpoetry #spilledink #frustratedtiredness #willfullmindlessness #oh,to be alone #mywriting #time

4am Pills Feels

Guess the cycle continues

I'm here again with my pills.

Contemplating a friendship

I may have jeopardized.

Sleep seems to ever evade me.

It's been 6 hours since my last dose.

The pills hold me in thrall,

My mind wanders up close.

Myhaps I could sleep now

I hear the cars still driving outside

Theres a lull in the sounds

The birds have yet to sing

Its uncomfortably warm,

And the air is somehow sticky.

I am restless, my mind agitated,

My sense of self conflicted.

I wish I could simply run from everything,

But I always end up over a cliff.

The deceptive sense of safety

Shatters like eager shards of glass.

It's almost 5am

And the sky outside begins to lighten.

I hear the first bird chirp

And sigh as I give in to the inevitable.

I've got a ticket to the end of the world.

Front row seats, you might say.

Would you hold my hand as we watch the earth collapse?

We could watch the rising flames.

Although it could just as well be icy frost.

We'll know very little either way.

I've got a ticket to the end of the world.

The path to get there might be a bit fucked.

But we could stand hand in hand

As the warmth of the explosions flushes our cheeks.

I'd like to have known who we could've been

But the roads are too murky to see.

I'd like to think that we could have been green

But that all depends on the sea.

So, would you join me at the end of the world

We could watch the last sunset together?

Would you stay even as it all fades away,

So we'd know that we had each other?

.

.

.

written 18th August 2020

.

A poem by Jay Murtagh

In the North of the South

Scattered

Like daisies tentatively occupying a field

The jacaranda trees.

Purple and green

Lavender, lilac, lime and forest

You don't see the life

Until you look closer.