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Best Poems Written by Niall Cuddy

Below are the all-time best Niall Cuddy poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Man In the Moon

I know there's a man in the moon
He looks down like a lonely cartoon
He flies his night kite
in the dark side of light
Whilst whistling a lunatic tune

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Dance the Sycamore

Her partisan skin melted
to a grey pale paste
Debauched in glory
and Moaning Lisa when she gave up the ghost
for skin weaved
under the light of a Venus beam
mounted the demon hill and lay a backhand on my throat

The universal untold and unfoldeth
by chance
we are a million miles 
into the dance
A hungry mongrel child
 - Atlas’ apprentice
Dancing Moaning Lisa in silver gown
rolls herself and nowhere to lay my baldy head

She reigns underneath the sycamore
for a speck of dust in her eye lies

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On a Bridge Called Beloved

A man needs a woman
to fill the bottle with smoke
and there's nothing in me
except a voice from the river
as the memories roll by
The siren confounds me
and I wish she was mine
We're a fallen romance
So let the colours outshine
Let the colours outshine

I feel like I know you've been crying a strangeness inside
Open the window and breathe out the life that you hide

For the mark of obsession
For the mask of a dove
I try to hold on to let go 
I try to hold on to love
Like the old fashion day
On a bridge called Beloved
we were locked in our fate
and a beautiful freak
sat and cried me a river
until the tears healed my heart

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Love's Sweet Ghost

I’m certain to succeed.
Straw as thick
As babies thighs
That sprouted from my lungs.
Glory on the lips that blow
The darkness from my bones.
The shrouded gaze, the winters heart,
The reminiscent pose
And my shaking hand.

There’s no escaping light
For knotted golden breaking through
To linger with the day.
The hunger lust deep in our bellies
Is tearing us apart.
An awkward meeting in a place 
Is nothing in this world 
But a wish away.

If I were tickled rose.
And not ashamed through
Hood or wink
To scribble and impress
If I were pist on love’s sweet ghost
Before the day was long
And all the gracious plans
Come falling from my lover’s eyes;
Into the depths

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What Is the Douse of Men

What is the douse of men?
That drives clutched
Formidable and incredible
From skull bird
To the modern stone shack’s lament.
The knot of history unravels;
Breathed through eyes,
Sighted through skin
Unknown anaemic love.
Coated in the waft of death
And touched by the parched flaps
Of weeping butterflies.
A stranded thought - strangled,
Laid bare
In the memory of the morning
- Lest we forget.

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100 Crooked Footsteps

Early in the morning
And insatiable 
A drifter on the dock
Washes what was once 
The stain of love.

100 crooked footsteps
I flounder
Under the hail
From beach to door

With a painful thrust
I dream of Julie
As branches danse
To a witches brood

I shake a stick
And ask what am I
Am I not happy?
I am of age

Yet beauty’s fatal kiss
Docks itself
100 crooked footsteps
From my door

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