Poetry from a Dublin Scientist

Category: poems

Worth it

Is it worth it?

The pain you caused?

The hurt you brought?

The damage you wrought?

The heart you broke

The soul you destroyed

The love you lost

When you said

“Sorry… Goodbye”


You, Are the reason I wake in the morning

You, are the sweet dreams that fill my nights

You, are the smile forever on my lips

You, are the stars within my eyes

You, are my heart, my breath, my soul

You, are my life

You, are my love

You, are with me

Haikus 130918

Airplanes fly over

Soldiers march along the street

The diceocho


The ground is shaking

But I don’t feel anything

Engrossed in my work


I light a candle

An offering for loved ones

To show that I care


Your Eyes

They are there

Upon me when I first see you

Green with just the faintest hint of brown

Sparkling in the lights of the city,

Like the finest diamonds

I am drawn to them,

As if they’re all there is I want to know

I get close, they get wider

I see myself looking back

Deep from within your eyes



For you

You saved the letters I wrote

The rough prose and youthful hand an unfamiliar receptacle for familiar feelings

I found them in your dresser drawer

The one place truly yours in a life totally shared

I had never opened it

Not in all the years since we moved in together

Not through the highs and the lows of decades together

Not even those final hard years of sickness

I thought about keeping them

A memory of how I felt

The love that makes what I have to do the hardest thing I ever did

But I don’t need to

My love for you is the only thing still bright as the rest of me fades

I instead have decided to place them with you

In the casket

As you take your final rest

For those letters

Like my heart

Are for now and forever

For you


Haikus 24/10/17

My wife is in bed

Sick with a blocked nose and cough

Treatment, tea and hugs


Dangerous spiders

May be found sneaking in our flat

They sure love bathrooms


Grandmother’s Birthday

She has reached one hundred years

And still going strong

Neither Sticks nor Stones

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words they too may hurt me
Sticks’ loud crack can smart you ears
But words leaves silence deeply

Stones bring bruises blue and black
Words bring but a tear
But bruises soon fade from the fore
While words keep deepest fear

Sticks and stones will ache my bones
When I bathe they drift away
But words can cut into my heart
And down in there they’ll stay

Sticks and stones can kill outright
As the body curls to break
Yet words may work a slower pace
And move your soul to take

Neither sticks nor stones can truly hurt
The strength that lies inside
But words can niggle at its core
Find it where it may hide

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words do greater still
The first may break my body
The next my soul will kill


Fugees Killing me Softly

Written for Grammar Ghoul Press’ mutant 750 challenge # 36.

For Poetry Day

Sway me with verse
With rhymes and words
With raw passion
With the strength of emotion

Use the almighty pen
Sealing thoughts in jet-black ink
Safe from memory’s vagrancies
Free to roam around the world

Use voice
Bring the words to life
Syllables in machine gun rapidity
Explosions of verbiage

Bring me poetry
Wondrous, magnificent poetry
Every which way you can
Show me what words can do


In out, in out
Fill lungs with the good
Release the bad
Send it out into the aether
To the vastness of the world outside
Where it can disperse
Fade into nothingness
So the soul
Malleable beyond words
Infinitely Changeable
Can once again soar
Be everything it can be

Written for Grammar Ghoul Challenge number 27


He could’ve had a father
The guy was a descent sort
Would have been kind
But sometimes romance does not kick off
And his old man had walked out the door
Long before he first kicked in the womb

He could’ve been a rocket scientist
He was bright, all the teachers could see it
His mind burned bright behind the eyes
But school was for idiots
You can make a fortune sitting on a street
With a swig of the bottle to take away the cold

He could’ve been a daddy
It would have turned his life around
To see a part of himself looking back at him
But the bottle’s siren song
Was stronger than the pull of the heart
And love’s promise died on the vine

He could’ve lived
He could have thrived
He could have made his mark in the world
But the poison had rotted his mind
Making him numb to cold’s harsh dagger
In a doorway the world would not see