Ancient lives reflecting

A Haiku for all Seasons

Ancient limbs creaking...
Budding fruit of young men's lives
On the vine dancing

Ancient ears straining...
Peal of fuchsias crimson bells
The noon sun parades

Ancient eyes glazing...
Glimpsing frosty breath, rustling
Russet paths are trod

Ancient minds wander...
Footprints by the holly bush
Life's traces leaving

Mike O'Leary - October 2015

A set of haiku...

Came to rest upon my page

One cold, crisp morning

Howling Again

I saw the best of my generation
Addled from sniffing glue
I saw the best of my generation
Lobotomised in the dole queue

Amidst war torn industrial landscapes
Refugees from industrial strife
The best of my generation
Crawling through the nightmare of life

Amidst the mantras of aspiration
And the lessons that must be learned
For the best of my generation
An honest crust could rarely be earned

I saw the best of my generation
Forced into working for free
Punished by the parish
In the name of charity

I saw the best of my generation
Crushed and lifeless just like the worst
In a world of winners and losers
All that matters are those that come first

Mike O'Leary - October 2015

Written in a group session with Steve O'Connor. I was tasked to write as a punk poet.

On the 60th anniversary of Ginsberg's 'Howl'. Written in it's shadow and spirit.

Light

Light

Lighting up my way...
You lighten my heavy load
I'm travelling light

Mike O'Leary