A Gurl in-between Octobers
Between two thousand to two thousand and six Octobers,
I, Earth felt devastated.
Under eleven blianta,
A river remembered its birth.
Evaporate, mother moisture exposed her wrath.
An chéad rugadh, deartháir
His illegal bag omnipotent rage, coicín.
Cailín lúide, deirfiúr bheag,
Dissociation appeared,
Late night MTV 2,
An abyss was drawn in gurl’s eye,
In mourn,
Cursed at the gate of leanbaíocht.
Forgive Autumn leafs,
Barely they hang,
Cracked and nude on wide eyed moons,
An páirc, gurl stargazes shadow puppets,
Mozart appears,
Gurl sings,
Contorts her body,
The dark energy leaves.
“I’ll bait ya!” gurl is bleeding,
Dressed in her foetal garment,
Curls in a memory,
Sleeping in conker fields,
On the hop from Scoil Misery.
Earth eyed child builds a fort,
Under urban palm trees,
One throwaway table,
Wrapped in soiled bed sheets,
Junk from the scrapyard playground,
Near the old pig factory.
The voices of Banshees wailing,
Her older brothers tales of fright,
A broken handgun in a dresser,
Decaying bullets of rage,
Abandoned son unmasked,
Absent pages burn.
Cailín sleeps with a soldiers eye,
In dodgy scenery.
A diary of damage spawned.
Wild eyed child grew,
Seventeen years, voices being cruel,
The scent of her masculine unkempt defiance,
Rang alarm bells!
Sanctimonious bead wearing bitches,
Locked gurl alone in bathroom stalls,
“You’re the devils child!!!”
The stiff faced canes of classrooms cried
Stigmata knitted in gurls fists.
Tugadh páirt am strainséara di,
Roghnaíodh í chun páirt an strainséara a dhéanamh,
Wrap gurl tightly in hospital sheets,
Involuntarily, A fucked up ole thing,
Too strange to exist,
Ní chanfaidh sí go poibí,
Ní chanfaigh sí os comhair daoine.
Sigh, can you not see?
No child ward available,
Out of eye,
A frightened lamb,
Under the skin of wolf,
Cut the throat.
Gurl cries in mind,
Calls for her imaginary friend,
She’s known since three,
A Voice named Seraphine,
Four years old, forever a child,
Spirit guide whispers inside Gurl’s ear,
“I’m here, I am scared too!”
Gurl is a ghost,
Haunting the edges of corpses,
Duct taped souls in the soil.
Gurl gotta go the (G) generally (F) fucked ward.
Athena in October
Inside the (G) Generally (F) Fucked ward,
A voice is speaking...
She Athena tuned in…
“Glory is to come young gurl,
Patience is a virtue,
learn truth in your war.”
Gurl sinks in defeat,
Chemical smells interrupt morning,
Bleach breaking in lá nua san infreann seo,
Blind eyes mop plastic floors,
Desensitized, Gurl is ignored,
Ceann eile gan dóchas ar leaba,
Blind eyes must remake.
Eight desperate beds, underfunded gloom,
Dulled medication heavy,
Anamacha, overcrowding of taboos,
An atrophy of compassion,
Unscrewed indifference,
Built in every room.
A delusion to seek privacy,
Dehumanized.
Gurl scattered in dhá shaol,
Now its witching hour in this tomb,
Ongoing insomnia, heavy doses of Silnoct,
Dreams absconded,
Awake, Gurl rocks head,
Quite violence.
A spirit of a dead patient appears,
Silhouetted on our assigned bed,
It speaks...
“Don’t end up like me.”
Gurl whispers to omen...
“Like what?”
A transparent figure,
Chalk breathe woman,
Without the smoke of sage,
A loose nightgown,
The fleece rope missing,
Skeleton waist.
Gurl frightened cries for help!
Another cold palm of Silnoct.
“You’re sick, hallucinating,
Shush settle down,
No woman on your bed!”
A night nurse fostering rage spits,
Ratchet soith, cunty wunty storms off.
Another trapped night,
Gnawing knuckles,
Clinical ceilings lay ahead.
Morning smells! Watery porridge,
The cleansing of bleach begins,
A vision appears, crude Jesus,
Burnt in soggy toast.
Gurl feels older skin clutching her palm,
Her next door neighbour in this hell...
“I heard you last night,
you where not hallucinating,
A woman named Julie,
Once slept in your assigned hell,
Hung herself with a rope,
A nightgown belt,
Right there!
In the cupboard by your bed!”
Athena, wisdom wore her armour,
Gifted me a new companion,
A Voice…“The Great Protector”
A Buddha Warrior,
Blue light in Taurus,
Calm, guarded,
A bull to soldier through the BULLSHIT.
Athena’s sword swung through clingíní barra, crochta in gurl’s mind…
“Get gone gurl,
Figure your way out of this place,
Wear our armour,
Bí socair, cineálta,
Be smart take no shit!
Clever gurl, it’s in you to rise,
Be a brave light!”
Gurl in two thousand and thirteen Octobers,
Banishes the (G) Generally (F) Fucked
Ward into Persephone’s hands,
Slammed the clinic door on her way out!
Fuck the underworld!
Gurl outruns the Authority of sane,
Wandering, Cursed and curious.
Ag bailiú bláthanna san earrach.
Cleanses her body,
Detoxing medical poisons,
Three years alone in withdrawal hell,
The glaze of confinement,
Sombre eyes become light,
Heaven reveals nature, a friend.
The trees, the river,
Every ocean, kind voices.
Seraphine and Gurl playing again.
Outside October
Two thousand and three Octobers…
Home can I imagine one day you will exist?
This Gurl escaped the labyrinth of bonfire nights,
Deamhan a dhíbirt,
Every burden of stain, expired in flames,
In the aftermath of ash,
All that does not serve this Gurl,
In future forests, will die before breathe.
I, Gurl found breathing.
Le himeacht ama thosaigh and cneasú,
In unknown lands, the pacifist,
Clean fists, blood abluted on these psalms,
A forest for new lungs,
Inhaling the trust of trees.
Voices evolving into gentle cryptic sounds,
Untranslatable to the noise that asphyxiates,
The futuristic abyss of concrete anatomy.
My flesh is on fire, Reincarnation,
A transition, Gurl content to drift.
Intimate nature,
Dig up this desire to grow,
Unnested bird, Cardinal wings,
Red feathers, flying in a dream,
Living as air in Éire.
Grounded, embraced by roots,
Forest be my friend?
Wrap me in sheets of bark,
Under infinity,
Skies of trusting night,
Hello bright eyes, moon!
Black onyx shielding this solitude,
I know you know how to love me.
Three poems above written by Michelle Dalton.
Copyright © By Michelle Dalton 2024