Between my damp lips a fat spliff glows,
A pin head of light
At the tip of darkness, the sweet and pungent
Smell of a peat fire burning slowly
In the winter hearth.
A pin head of light
At the tip of darkness, the sweet and pungent
Smell of a peat fire burning slowly
In the winter hearth.
I saw such a fire once in a house in rural
Kerry
Where even the dead and the lonely danced.
I got wasted
On Guinness and Mountain Dew, high on
Irish rebel songs,
Stoned on the rich peaty smoke that cast
It’s dark shadow over my lungs,
Woke up two days later in an agony of contrition,
My body berating my head for it’s weakness.
Between my damp lips the fat spliff splutters
Extinguishing the light,
Abandoning me at the tip of darkness where
Abstinence lies in wait.
A demon more demanding than addiction.
Dennis Moriarty was born in London, England and now lives in Wales. Married with five grown up offspring Dennis likes walking the dog in the mountains, reading and writing.
In 2017 he won the Blackwater poetry competition and went to county Cork in Ireland to read his work at the international poetry festival. Dennis has had poems featured in many publications including Blue nib, Our poetry archive, Setu bilingual, The passage between and others.
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"Don't Bogart that joint, my friend! Pass it over to me!"
ReplyDeleteBrilliant, Dennis. I love this one
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