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I feel a certain jealousy
for the hims and the hers
that I have never met
nor do I know their fate
For however they continue
they once were the spark of a fire within you
—
Who was that girl?
What did she make you feel?
Did she break your heart or would that be too perfect?
Is she even real
or did you give her life?
—
I know that you can help me see
my hopes and dreams reflected
in a form more real than i can now conceive
—-
I want to hear those details clearly
only i would recognise
the ties that bind the two of us
so long as we have ears to hear
—
You grant the world the privilege to ask:
who was that girl?
What did she make you feel?
Did she break your heart or would that be too perfect?
Is she even real?
or did you give her life?
—
To glimpse your world is not enough
I want to be enshrined inside
I want to find a place to hide
a part of me within your melody
—
and even through some trouble’s throes
i’ll always have a place to go
where i remain forever vaunted
beautiful and always wanted
by one who’s hymn of wanting fills my heart
—
To be that unnamed girl,
the spark that lights your song,
that you have made eternal in return
Mark McQuillan (2024)
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I knew him when we were young
We spent those days in the sun
He stood alone as the one who would haunt me through the years
-
And the sadness can be read on my face;
Emotions I can’t erase
They bring me back to a place and time
When there was hope and calm
-
And though I saw our imperfections
With time they have given way to memories of laughter and joy
Which now may be forever out of my reach
-
I see his face in my mind;
His movement one of a kind,
His silhouette in the light of a day I yearn for still
-
But would I gain some small comfort knowing his heart aches as mine?
Mark McQuillan (2023)
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The Clown:
What does he want? What does he fear?
The Clown:
Never too close, Sometimes too near
The Clown:
Always so Loud, Always so Brash
The Clown:
Never upset, Never Abashed-
as far as you’d know from his face
his smile: it remains in its place
his eyes purposeful, wandering
but their meeting with yours can’t endure
is that by intention or some other means
a means he’s not willing to face
-
The Clown:
is he a friend? is he a foe?
The Clown:
When is it real? When just a show?The Clown:
Is he like you? Can he be read?
The Clown:
How can he live? What would it mean to be dead?
-
the shape of a tear by his eye
it tells you a truth through a lie
as he struggles to find the words
to express what he feels might ensure
the you won’t catch a glimpse of his one greatest fear
the fear of appearing alive
-
The man who lives a life through humour
who’s wit his first defence against the world
a kind of life but to what end
to live as hero, lover, friend
or as a clown
-
the man whose hopes survive through rumour
who keeps his dreams and nightmares tightly furled
behind a face he wears each day
his soul sums up the debt he’ll pay
-
but each new day he has a choice
to shades of doubt he can give voice
voice to the wants
voice to the fears
voice to the screams
voice to the cheers
voices so loud
voices so brash
voices upset
voices at last
-
can he grasp that it’s life or it’s death
get too close and that’s all there is left
if he bears all before you, embracing that choice
who is he that can take the next breath
-
The Man:
his smile, now it’s real, the first of its kind
The Man:
The face of pretence, he leaves it behind
The Man:
Who is he now? Who can he be?
The Man:
Will he be strong? Must he be free?