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Fiona Callaghan Poem
Dear Victor
The day you walked in I was just ten years old and for the first time I felt the gentle butterfly flutters of a young hearts innocent attraction.
I wasn't the only one. With your floppy golden hair and aqua blue eyes your arrival caused quite a stir and class distraction.
Vivacious, popular among boys and girls alike, open in a way we weren’t used to.
Your candour brought forth such delightful laughter and certainly more than the odd blush from me!
Many a lesson trying not to gaze in your direction.
My one and only lashing of the belt for tracing a handwriting exercise in my haste to escape the classroom to join you in the afternoon sunshine.
The teacher having left the door tantalisingly ajar so that those still inside were tormented by the sight of shirt tails flying in the breeze and the sweet smell of freshly mown grass.
The valentine card I sent (well, had someone sneak onto your chair!) had pride of place, hidden under your pillow at home. Your older sister taking me to show it there, both of us giggling and shushing each other as we went.
Any mortification at being unmasked as the sender lost in the sheer giddiness of this sudden turn of events.
Never boyfriend and girlfriend, too young for that. We stole playful kisses during postman’s knock at parties (somehow it was always you who came knocking) and when just a little older, we danced all the slow songs together.
New school, new classes, new faces. No falling out, just a natural drifting away.
I still liked to catch a glimpse of you amid the throng in the corridor just to know you were okay. My day made if I caught a smile.
Though no longer close, the news you were leaving left me sad and a with quiet sense of loss. I never got to say goodbye.
Every year I wished you a happy birthday in my heart - mine and yours being only two days apart.
A chance meeting, an acquaintance not seen since school, tossed me a casual remark - had I heard? Scant details barely registering. No? Really? I mimicked their casual tone.
Walked away angry, reeling, such tragic news imparted with such lack of feeling.
No tears were shed for you. How could they, it wasn’t real, couldn’t be true. Just malicious gossip that had somehow filtered through.
Twenty years on, another chance encounter, this one moss edged and worn.
No longer able to deny the truth there etched in stone. Finally the tears flow.
I’ll never know what truly unimaginable pain caused you to take your own life nor, selfishly, do I want to. I only know that the torture of vicious bullies led to a young life being snatched away.
Forever dear Victor. I’ll treasure always my sweet memories of you.
In memory of
Victor Wladysiuk
9th October 1975 - 10th October 1991
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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Fiona Callaghan Poem
Mother’s Giving Nature
At the dawning of the day
Layered greens flashed through gold
The folds in Mother’s skirts
Every creature does behold
Her mass sparkling blue
Above as below mountains
Frilled in ferny lace or capped white
As snow.
No other quite so acquiescent -
To us her children she gives purely with love
Each tiny detail of nature hers to present
Bountiful gifts she bestows upon us daily
Not least seven seas and stars up above.
When night falls
Evening attire our Mother does wear
Shimmering crown to ankle
In moon lit despair
Fear not Mother dear for your children do bear
The darkening skies and nip to the air
Lost in layers of comfort and night
Grateful to be held in your wondrous might
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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Fiona Callaghan Poem
Chrysalis
As healthy relationships go
Ours is as fit as a fiddle
Peak condition
Well fed on truth and
Admission
Tantrums I’ve thrown each
Childish full-blown
Cherished by love and
Compassion grown
From vulnerability
Liberty born on
The scream of my song
Heard as blue bird angels
By the heart of my biggest fan
This man of mine
Cocoon for emergence
In it’s early delicate form
For him I’ll be me
I’ll share who we are as we
Love
Now, then, ever be.
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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Fiona Callaghan Poem
The Perfect Proposal
For us girls it’s the day
We patiently await
When the perfect proposal
finally comes our way
Faceless as yet
We only picture the scene
Our life long imaginings become
Realised dream
No flowers, candles, ambient air no
Lengthy speeches, fluted champagne
All believed to make the day fair no -
Only simple words spoken
At guileless pace
Direct to the heart
Setting fireworks off
Across the sky they race
- Mummy when I’m a big man
Will you marry me?
A tear in my eye
I squeeze his chubby thigh
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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Fiona Callaghan Poem
Blood is thicker than water (farewell)
Burdened and scarred by DNA
Passed on to us without our say yet
Blood is thicker than water you say?
Characteristically speaking at least
Yes this much is true
Blood coagulates, dries up at such a rate
Impermanent - given certain conditions -
As flaking paint on the family portrait
Carries unknown diseases causing delicate hearts
Quite literally to break
Water the poor relation oh so giving
Life force indeed of all things living
Cleanses, refreshes, vitality brings
Enriches life prompting hale hearts
Passionately to sing
Crimson blood dripping oozing
Pure water flowing clear and soothing
I know now which is my choosing
Blood is thicker than water they say
This I will dispute
Till my last drop has bled away
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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Fiona Callaghan Poem
Ann-Marie
Tombs for teeth stuck out
On stocks overhanging
A trembling lower lip the
Impression of permanent snivel
Impeding would-be normal childish speech
Should such a thing ever have been desired
Passionately pleading
Dark brown eyes - doe I think they’d say
Both avoiding the straight ahead
Poised always
Glistening ready to tear saying more
Than dental excavations ever could
The bowl cut - affectionately known
A burden only the wearer owns
Tatty coat delicately worn
Cloak of poverty faded brown check
Perfectly in keeping
With grimy socks
On slim grey legs
Offering protection no mean feat
Cornering the cornered
We hoped they would retreat but
The boys used their hands superior
Body strength feet
In urgent proliferation to reach
The tenderest of all to strike her pure cheek
Daily battles we fought
Crushing defeats all yours to bear
Carried alone with the scars clinging
Even in the air
At home with the stigma and cruelty
That delivered you there
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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Fiona Callaghan Poem
Cursing Cathartic
I blooming swear too much these days
It really is disgraceful.
Went from one not to boo a goose
To using words distasteful.
It happened by design you see
Set emotions free from me.
From where they had long lain -
Damaging and wasteful.
Don’t get me wrong it was
Effective in the expressive.
Speed it became habit alas
Just a little too impressive.
Cleansed now of historical debris -
Free at last to be me here now.
Contentment has no such hold over me
It is time for cursing to take a bow.
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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Fiona Callaghan Poem
The Beast in Me
The awakened beast in me comes stealthily, creeping
While the rest of the household remain soundly sleeping
Dark, yet vibrant eyes emit a bitter glow
Ignoring my impassioned pleas to just go!
And so begins its nightly torturous game
Of whispering quietly my name in blame
No-one else is ever around to see
This vicious demon residing in me
Oh the beast in me are you not done
I only wish to see to the sun
Refreshed, renewed, alert, wide awake
This I implore for my poor hearts sake
The beast in me I intend to slay
Come on now fiend you've had your play
But no your fun has only just begun
Tonight I fear you’re in for the long run
The awakened beast in me it comes creeping
Tomorrow I will arise tired, softly weeping
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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Fiona Callaghan Poem
The day they came
Towering treasures
boxes stacked sky scraper high
giddy city measures
to a tiny timid blue eye.
But there down low to be sold
level with her miniature size,
delicate delights to behold
stolen by glanceful little shys.
A safe hand navigates,
while sighting and exploring,
assists and negotiates
with decisions now imploring.
Dressed as bride and groom
grey ears as big as her own,
cheeks in rosy full bloom
curly tails crudely drawn.
She guarded fierce the pair
rest whole trip through
conspicuous yet none dare
cause challenge to ensue.
Alone now to covet and care
small hands place there tenderly
upon the cover of underwear
where prone she'll face every day.
Stay there their home
safe flat white landscape
hers, all alone
all the while to escape.
Then snatched away
amid emotive strife,
the first of many in life -
displaced and grey.
Cherished ones are lost
Some never forgotten.
Loss being the cost
of all love brought on.
Still in jaded finery
She hope's they remain,
together in unity
as on the day they came.
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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Fiona Callaghan Poem
Dust and Dreams
I felt so excited
to see you arrive
but now all you do
is sit and derive
Your beauty like a dream
in you I saw the divine
found my place in the scheme
of all things due to be mine
I feel so sad
to see you neglected
you great lump of wood
dusty and rejected
It is not your fault I say
the fault is all mine
how dare I bloody sit here
sit here and whine
You were to be my platform
where one day I’d find my voice
and now it all seems long gone
and it is I who made the choice.
Copyright © Fiona Callaghan | Year Posted 2016
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