|There's nothing like the a cheeky grin from a child you don't know for cheering up the soul|
For more of my poems give these pages a whirl:
- The Great I Am
- Fragments of a Once Broken Mind
- A Momentary Lapse of Reason
- My Son
- To Those Who Worry
- Aspects of the Divine
- Rage and Roar
- Tangle Heart
- Words, Fucking Words
- Muddy Waters
Didn't There Used to be Magic
Didn't there used to be magic?
When you were five the world was magic.
And then gradually, the magic fades.
But it hasn't gone, it's still there.
When you were five.
A Short Poem by Irina Foord
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Just like you!
Free to Fly
Free to fly
To soar and roam
For a fire burns for me at home
That I can see as far away
I know my way back
For wherever my mind may go
My heart stays here
Here I Sit
Here I sit amidst the wreckage of my life.
What pretty ruins I have made.
I always loved a broken down castle,
I just never imagined I'd be one.
All we need now are sound and lights,
And we have a show.
Just Keeping Quiet
Just keeping quiet,
Playing it safe.
Hoping nothing too terrible happens before we all die.
Wrapped up in my kids,
They're my whole world.
Although one day they'll leave,
Because everyone does.
I'll keep taking the pills,
Doctor knows best.
So help me pretend
That everything's fun
Keeping up that big wall that keeps out the world
But blots out the sun.
The Cult of None
The Cult of None
And no-one is in it
Plus anyone else who wants to be,
But no-one is definitely in it.
So it's entirely true to say that no-one is in it.
And you can join
But no-one knows how.
So that's how, you ask no-one.
If I Could Hurt You
If I could hurt you, that gives you power over me.
For I will try hard not to hurt you.
But I will also try to learn the difference,
Between you hurting you,
And me hurting you.
And I will try to remain innocent.
Love is My Home
Love is my home.
Where I belong and where I'm set free.
Where I'm made whole, made me.
Love help me to love.
Love help me to care and help me to help.
Love I hurt. Help me to heal.
Help me to walk with my heart open
To live with my life open
To seek you out
With all my heart
And in all I do.
I've seen you love
And I cannot turn
Nothing else can capture me
As you have captured me.
Let this be the song of my life,
The message I bring through silence and the cry of my heart.
Let my heart break with those who hurt,
Let my soul be glad with those who are lifted up,
In all things may I be grateful.
For all the grace and mercy I've been shown,
For all the goodness in my life,
May I never cease to rejoice.
If I can bring hope, if I can bring joy,
Then my life has meaning.
And I am happy,
For love lives.
Does Christmas Exist
Does Christmas exist,
Is it real,
Is it even a thing that can be?
Where does it live,
where is its house,
Can you eat it or smoke it or touch it?
Is it all in your head,
is it all in your mind,
in the sky,
just a myth or a legend or tale?
Perhaps that misses the point,
and a thing that is thought,
that is shared,
is as real a thing
as a thing can possibly be.
If nautical nonsense be something you wish.
A Tribute to Linux and Open Source
Talking to a friend about my current pain with Ubuntu and our company VPN and he tried to lure me, once again, back to the dark side of Mac OS X. I think my complaint, which is also my reason for staying, was accidentally in the form of a poem.