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You are consumed
by the contrast of my shoelaces...
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Holding hands beneath night skies,
we wish upon the moon;
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Head bowed, she softly cries,
relives the lonely desperate day;
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A child of the moon,
I pay tribute to its light;
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Dare I attempt proper account,
of a face I can’t forget;
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Patience is a virtue pure and true,
so I’ve learned, and heard it said;
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Touch and talk with our music on; a bright-eyed melody in soft-haired harmony;
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A man who has lost the plan, I flee a prison of pain;
A lion on the lam, running down the lane.
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She won’t let me listen to her, will not let me near;
She won’t let me talk with her, pretends she cannot hear.
by Mat Larkin
24 lines, 13 comments,
on Jan 5 1:43 PM 2007
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From Derry, Kerry, Cork and Armagh;
bring your mates and Ma and Da.
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Stick shift sweetheart drives through the night; all wheel angel turns left turns right;
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Bound in a body of flesh and bone, In this world starved by steel and stone;
by Mat Larkin
24 lines, 17 comments,
on Jan 1 4:47 PM 2007
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I walked alone into a pub on an evening cool and fair where I met a Derry angel with time in life to share;
by Mat Larkin
34 lines, 14 comments,
on Dec 28 1:59 PM 2006
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I will gladly give to Ireland after all She gave to me; my heart, my life, my soul; my songs and poetry.
by Mat Larkin
24 lines, 5 comments,
on Dec 23 10:56 PM 2006
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I am a Northern ploughboy and I ploughed my fields today;
by Mat Larkin
44 lines, 5 comments,
on Dec 23 10:53 PM 2006
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Last night I had a happy dream,
for the sight that I did see;
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Back to the basics, where it all began, down to the core, hear my heart again;
by Mat Larkin
29 lines, 14 comments,
on Dec 10 12:02 PM 2006
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The Christian question, at the core,
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The Mournes sweep low on the Newcastle side;
the misty mountains greet the tide.
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A burdened and busy man,
consumed by crucial matters-
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Password, videocam, secret code, retinal scan;
handshake to get in.
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Sundays aren’t the same since I fled the shores of Annalong;
City sidewalks aren’t for strolling while singing rebel songs.
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Let go those ghosts, give them release,
quit haunting yourself, get some peace;
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Heaven walks my way holds herself with grace;
pretty as this perfect day, smile on her face.
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Meet me at the jukebox, find me Friday night,
touch the magic numbers, everything will be alright;
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Gaze back to a beginning, out across blue eternity;
beneath the skies above the water, where spirits wander free.
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Are you as beautiful as your smile,
are you beautiful through and through;
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I've got the full-moon blues again
under a beautiful blazing sky.
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No parade it was through the park,
searing sand beneath bare feet;
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If our shoes could talk
what a tale they’d tell;
by Mat Larkin
32 lines, 12 comments,
on Nov 10 10:33 AM 2005
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