Category: Uncategorized (Page 1 of 2)

Today I’m not answering-

Calls and emails can tumble into the void—
a distant echo in a canyon
I have no intention of hiking into.
Instead, I’ll linger here,
thinking about adventures ahead.

The woods wait for no one,
especially someone like me,
busy explaining my ideas to people
who will forget my words
the moment the meeting ends.

The trees don’t need a progress report.
The squirrels don’t pause mid-scurry,
fold their tiny arms,
and demand to know when I’ll deliver
on whatever request they’ve made.

It’s funny how the trail doesn’t care
if you’ve been gone five days or fifty years.
It’s still there,
under the canopy of leaves
that needs no approval to fall. 

So I think today I’ll 
spend the afternoon explaining myself
only to the wind—
which, for all its impatience,
never fails to listen.

I don’t like it, but it’s what I have for today.

Joy finds me in the hallway-

not in the spreadsheets
or board reports,
not in meetings where
I nod too much,
but in laughter.
Not mine.
(The quiet chuckle of middle age
has rules and volume limits.)
Theirs.
High-pitched, uncontainable,
giggles that ricochet off lockers
and sneak under classroom doors,
reaching me.

Today it came from two children,
heads bent,
reading their parts in class
inventing voices for the
characters in their play
They tried to look serious—
eyebrows scrunched 
in forced studiousness—
but one snort escaped,
and they lost it.
Wild and breathless.
Glorious.

I turned my back so they couldn’t see me grin.
(I have a reputation, after all.)
But there it was, joy.
Simple, untaught,
with no return on investment
or measurable outcome.
It finds me, still.
Even now.
And I’m grateful.

The Life Poetic

Poets live lonely lives,
writing for themselves,
sitting in cafes,
coffee growing cold.

They pen verses
that may never be read,
or if read,
only in secret.

Sad and alone,
they drink whiskey and beer,
trying to soothe
their restless souls.

In the quiet corners
of dim-lit rooms,
they write their lives away—
cold coffee, heavy hearts,
and words waiting
for an unseen reader.

Sometimes the muse speaks, other times you have to do a lot of internal bitching to get things moving… today was a lot of internal bitching… but I’m not completely unhappy with what came out… Enjoy.

All is not Lost

The pen rests idle, ink runs dry,
beneath the weight of this winter sky.
No bottle to cradle, no fire to spark,
Just silence wrapped in a stubborn dark.

The words that poured like vintage wine,
now stumble, falter, and misalign.
Each stanza a puzzle, each rhyme a cage,
An empty stage without the rage.

Yet deep within, a whisper grows,
A quiet seed the muse sows.
Even in drought, the roots still yearn—
A barren field awaits its turn.

For my birthday I really wanted to sleep in and be lazy all day. As such, this poem, a Clogyrnach, is not my favorite poem but it fits the form. I think it could probably use some work, but we will get to that another day.

I actually wrote quite a bit today, but nothing felt “publishable” at this point. maybe soon.

So here goes a Clogyrnach:

Untitled Clogyrnach

Waking up to a bright new day
Have lots to do and things to say
Breathing into life
Sharp words like a knife
Cut through strife
A new way

©2021 Tim Geoghegan All rights reserved. 

Cheers!

I am tired. It has been a long week. I am going to bed and this is what I have on the page for today.

The rain, falls in the doorway...
the opening through which I peer 
into the vacant yard, void of life
filling up with wet and miserable gray

Cheers…

Sometimes I write a poem and after sitting with it for awhile I rip it up and see what I can salvage…

This is a poem that WAS finished, but NOW is being deconstructed to be remade into something new and hopefully better.

Also, this is what you get when I lose track of time, get tired and need to do something. A deconstruction of a finished poem.

Tear it down...

I remember 
Walking in the sand and sun.
Had I considered your lovely face


the reality Looking  
In my mind with a happy smile

Back then I never considered
they never end.heart

Now looking back I wonder how
Those times might end so soon
Maybe it would have been different.

In the darkness
you stroll out of my life 
when You were good for me 
but was I for you?
But I continue Happily 
And so it seems we’ll never know.

 to remember.
think on           our moments.
 light       at

Laughing on a rainy afternoon

©2021 Tim Geoghegan All rights reserved.

Cheers!

Earlier in the week I was reading about the idea of call and response poems and songs. There are apparently forms of poetry designed around the idea of a call and a response two characters, perhaps even two poets…

I think it would be fun to write a few call and response poems with another poet. If you are interested in playing around with that idea with me… leave a comment.

So, without following anything prescribed with regard to form, I give you a call and response poem like thing. I think it can get better…

Wakeless waltzing.

I often dream…
we dance
well into the night.
I wake… and feel
The constant dragging,
lingering, longing…

Our dreams are alike
Yours and mine. 
The time we share
in the dark...
Dancing until dawn
while holding on. 

©2021 Tim Geoghegan All rights reserved

Thanks to those of you who responded directly about enjoying the blitz or other poems. I appreciate the notes.

Cheers!

Here goes nothing…

He does exist

When the day arrives
Children know
Santa is alive

Making lists
Checking them two times
For presents

To be delivered
Christmas eve
To good girls and boys

Cheers!

The people behind the scenes never seem to get enough credit. Thanks to my people.

Thanks-

Looking back I see
so many times you were close,
cheering my success.
Hoping all the best for me.
Without thought of your benefit.

©2021 Tim Geoghegan - All rights reserved. 

Cheers!