Ciaran Burke Poetry and Photos
@ciarantburke
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horticulturist by day, tortured poet 24/7...
Ireland
Joined February 2010
A Walk In The Garden - a poem by Ciaran Burke
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Photographs taken one morning in Dublin City in April 2021, while the country is on Level 5 COVID-19 restrictions. Retail stores are closed; coffee shops, restaurants and bars are closed, except for take-away service. Offices are mostly empty, people work from home.
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Walk With The Lens – Dublin City April 2021 A thread ⬇️
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Life and Death -video a poem by Ciaran Burke
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unsold and untold tent lines of temporary accommodation make way for outdoor seating the life and death of recovery.
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the rise and fall of our existence oxygenating respiring fear of expiring the lives that fill the arteries that give life to the concrete veins that pump existence into the hard construction we will come with fresh breath of normality as we invade the city as big issues remain
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And now we lie in the silence listening with expectation ears pricked for the pin drop the sounds of hope yearning for the symphony of the city streets percussion of pedestrians composed by commuters friction of lives against asphalt but dead beats fill the silence
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to cut to strangle smother kill a suicide if you will to rebirth and live again. Ciaran Burke
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attempting surgical removal of the infected tissues that could not cure diseased organs lobotomised brain remove pain stop the insanity the hurt anger sorrow self-loathing cannot stop the rot the final solution the taboo to take the action of self to end the ending finally
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ensuring that the corporeal version of a miserable life cannot rise from the vault to return a zombie rampage devouring flesh consuming souls for the momentary gratification of the dead inside dressed in the clothes of the attractive and false. To succeed where others failed
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This selfish act is not for me but for the ones that I leave I know they will question seeking logic from chaotic life but the time has come to end the life of non existence to bury the lost soul deep. Let fire turn to ash the corpse cremation to destroy remains
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left no evidence nothing evident nothing left your pain is dead we live your final hour living in our thoughts. You rest rest in the peace left pieces pieces of life not found in questions nor in answers no pieces left to find may you find peace. Ciaran Burke
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