Note to self: Never be in this situation

Eyes that lie, stare right into the path of destruction.

A smile of ignorance radiates the sense of misfortune.

His innocence can no longer be, despite his best attempts to hide the truth.

On the warpath, she in enraged with the power of mistrust.

Every second word, a swear.

The echoing anger slices into his skin.

"You lying, cheating bastard!"

His best attempts to salvage what's left goes on with empty sorry's.

Tears trickle down her now red face, as she's embarrassed and distraught.

What once was happiness, is suffocated with sadness.

What once was love, is now strangled with hate and lies.

What once was a happy go lucky girl, with a cute smile and laugh

Sits bawling her eyes out, with a shattered heart and a broken life.

Words didn't need to be said aloud,

They spoke perfectly with their bodies to each other.

His smile towards her meant that he loves her,

With a shy happy look, that was her way to say it back.

Every kiss he gave her, was letting her know,

That no matter what girl, he would be there for you.

She threw her arms around him in a way that shouted love.

It told him that she was always going to hold him close, forever.

The holding of hands symbolised their trust and their friendship.

Every laugh shared was the truth that they were glad things ended up this way.

She sheds a tear, and he wipes them away softly and cuddles her close.

"I'm always yours babe"

Every kiss they shared together

It was love, it was glorious love.

Doesn't everyone just love the beach?

An open door gives a might fine impression

The waking sun says hello on the horizon of the great blue

It sheds light on another glorious day in paradise

The bright colour sets the scene over a once black beach.

It's crystals of light make everything that much prettier.

The crisp wind guides laughter throughout the vast open setting.

A crashing wave of mighty water thumps down on the broken shells

The thundering sound of pounding waves lingers throughout the morning

Colour, glorious colour. Blue, yellow, green, red. All paint a marvellous picture

The temperature rises, and the water is invaded by people with wide smiles

The sea now calm, opening its arms to all its children to come play

Ships way out at sea sail slowly along the heatwaves on the horizon

Colourful kites cover the skies with plenty of diamonds

Sand gently blowing with the wind, such a glory filled day

Shadows grow longer, as the setting sun says its final goodbyes for today

With the sea breeze cooling a day of fun, and a day of relaxation

People stand ankle-deep in the calm sea reflecting on the days events

Sand castles cover the setting, scattered all over the place

The last souls on the beach pack up their umbrellas for another day

"Goodbye glorious beach, we will meet again tomorrow"

With a goodbye, the beach shuts its eyes

A beach full of life, full of fun and full of memories

Empty

The sunsets on the site, only to be lonely for a few hours

"We'll be back again tomorrow"

Illuminations of life.

The candle is lit, and placed on the hull.

A whisper of hope is sealed with the light.

A prayer is shared, for hope and good will.

Off we go to the land of never ending smiles.

Set sail for hope, land will greet soon!

Waves of uncertainty try and taint the light.

The wind tries to blow out our chances

We just keep sailing for the future.

On the horizon, a formation gathers.

Smiles on faces, and the light grows stronger.

Bring on the truth, we're ready for action.

Just a few moments to go, and we'll be in heaven.

Memories From A Shore

After I ate I went outside to catch my air,
And to walk off my drink.

And I rolled tobacco,
And watched as the smoke floated magically like you left me.

Oh I made a firm fist,
And, pissed, thought it brilliant to throw my hand into the door.

I knew I would have to admit that I was wrong.
I decided to not talk no more.

Anna, no.
What an embarrassing way to go.

Anna, no.
What an embarrassing way to go.

If you wrote a list of the times I considered to swim in my heavenly home.

And God and His angels are all under water,

And callin' my name once for all.

Oh, and I had this hat that I lost in September,
I miss you less than that, you know.

Oh how can a man seek revenge on a woman he wants to believe has no soul,
No home.

Anna, no.
What an embarrassing way to go.

The Pros and Cons of Humanity

The beating heart makes us sweat.

The pulsating metronome pressures us into making mistakes.

The beating hinders our train of thought.

It’s so mesmerising, threatening.

It kills us from the inside.

Every beat of the heart makes us more human.

It draws us to the point of insanity.

The mind is clouded and thought stops,

Hope and reason are abandoned.

Our mind abstains like a boxer downed in the first round.

The regret comes fast,

Even the people we trusted only wished for our destruction,

An expressionless face cracks under the strain.

The time bomb explodes,

No longer able to cope with the pressures of being human..

Written by Stephen Gallagher and Tory Regan

Autumn sensation

The naked autumn trees,

Blow scarcely in the breeze.

The fallen leaves of yellow, orange and red,

Blow aimlessly around my head.

The night sky opens up and the stars try to shine,

With the cold pouring rain, it seems a waste of time.

When I feel lonely in this autumn season,

I think of you and you give me a reason.

A reason to smile, as your face lights up my life,

I'll never say goodbye woman, never in this life.

The wind carries the autumn leaves around,

In the shape of things to come, I'll get off the ground.

I'll stand up in this autumn shade,

Every day, it shall be made.

The crisp leaves make the same ol' sound.

Every leaf a memory that leaves me feeling astound.

Every time this season rolls in,

I'll never forget those lips with sin.

You'd think the Spanish would understand Spanish....

Flames lick the oxygen-filled air.

The ominous sound of fire creates panic.

It smells like disaster,

And burns like a bitch.

He keeps on running,

From pain and bad memories.

The fire grows bigger,

And waves to him as he turns around for a glance.

Burn, burn, the bastard burns.

All the way to the ground.

700 meters.

Boxes cover the lounge floor.

All the clothes, all the books,

Sitting in cardboard boxes.

The walls stand bare,

All the pretty pictures are missing.

They sit sadly in packages,

Begging to fill the room with colour.

But they can't, not anymore.

The rooms are filled with memories.

Each lingering moment a ghost of time.

The good times I've had here,

As well as the bad

Will be missed, undoubtedly.

The sun shines down,

and basks us in its glory.

Thank you for this lovely day.

The truck starts up, shakes off it's cobwebs.

Its engine roars, as it's fully loaded.

The house, fully bare.

No sign of existence anymore.

Just sweet memories.

A smile lights up my face,

"You've done me well, house."

Blocks away, we great a new dwelling.

Such greatness in size.

It sends its hello on the whispering wind.

A house inside, empty.

Waiting for what we have.

Paintings smile on the white walls.

Rooms shine full of life.

The residents are warm and caring.

The picturesque views you offer us.

Make the experience so damn rewarding.

Keep us safe, house.

From the winds, and the rain.

We will treat you with kindness,

and give you back a life.

There's something about him....

Here come's the moon again,

He comes to see us with his cheeky smile.

Winning his hide and go seek game with the sun.

The sparkling stars are nothing compared to him.

Where else do I look with a broken heart?

You seem to absorb me, and guide me.

All the secrets pour out of my heart.

You understand everything about me.

Without you, I fall apart.

Doctor Moon, what's your prognosis?

Should I fill the streets with tears?

He doesn't speak back, but I know he nods politely.

He stares back with knowledge and light.

Reading me like a book.

The stars twinkle around him,

Trying to catch his attention.

But all he focuses on is me.

Thank you Mister Moon.

Thank you so much.

The shoulder I cry on,

The ears who listen in.

The one I trust,

With all my secrets.

Twisted Dawn (part one)

You lot may remember this as UNEDITED which I had written awhile ago. It's just come back from editing. There are a few people I would like to thank before you can read. Daniel Kelly - Thank you so much for editing this. You're truly a great friend. Thanks for all the effort for this to come true. Laura Glogoski - Thanks for all the support you've given me for my writing. Tory Regan - You're extremely honest and I appreciate all you've said to me over the years. Everyone else who's given me feedback over the time, I thank you all endlessly. :)

Twisted Dawn

Silhouettes surround me as the presence of not knowing where I am cloud my waking thoughts. Everything I once knew, everything I once had, has now disappeared. I stare up at the moon, unwillingly – I am bloodied and bruised – why do I stare? Incoherent speech floods my ears… I think. I am more worried about how I got here than what is being said. Hands bound, I tense to break the shackles of confusion. Fear of not getting out strikes at me, sharp…stabbing.

"What have I ever done to deserve this?" I stammer.

"What haven't you done?" These words are pounded into me.

Tall trees shelter any geographical landmarks I may recognise. I am so dense in this forest I would not know which way to get out. Laughter erupts from an old GMC pick up truck. The interior light is on and from what I can make out, they both seem to be holding something. They begin to head my way before I can get a good look…I black out.

--------

The next time I regain consciousness, it is day light. The hill I’m on gives me a good view of the unfamiliar terrain; tall green pines seem to go on endlessly - a depressing sight, banishing thoughts of escape from my mind. I see now that the pick up truck is silver, with a mismatched red driver’s door. The silhouettes inside are now people. There are two of them, one of them very distinctive, towering at about six foot six inches - solid and sturdy. His head shaven, eyes a piercing hazel; a ginger goatee completed the look. As he looked over at me, he knew I was awake. I didn't know what to expect.

"You're here for a reason, and you know it too jackass." His voice is deep and bellowing. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck as I processed his words.

"A reason? Oh of course I know!" I answer.

He picks up the sarcastic tone in my voice, his facial expression changes, he’s now angry.

"You really know how to piss people off, don't you?" As he finishes his sentence, he deals a damaging blow to my nose. It reminds me of high school, and the days I spent head first in the toilet as bullies made sure I knew who the boss was.

"If you keep talking, I will keep going." His voice seems to shake the ground, surely registering on the Richter scale. I sit up, my hands still bound…the grip seems to have tightened. The sun was trying to pierce through the thick cloud. It must be about midday.

The other guy comes over to me, a balaclava covers his face but I see he is about five foot nine inches, with brown eyes. That is all I can make out as he picks me up. I’m unwilling at first, but I realise if I cooperate, I might gain some valuable information.

We walk for about five minutes, for which I decide not to speak. As we walk, he speaks to me, but I still find it difficult to hear and can’t make out what he is saying. I hear what I think are profanities and decide not to bother questioning him. A few hundred metres later we arrive at a river, it isn't too wide and the water is crisp. The soothing sound of water flowing over rocks fills the air, the first sound besides those in my head that I've heard in a long time. Despite the dire circumstances, I find it calming, even pleasant.

I am thrown to the ground, the five minute walk was clearly too much time alone with me, at least that’s what the look of disgust on his face tells me. He pulls a knife, my heart starts beating rapidly. He walks behind me; I do not break eye contact. Fear grips me tightly. He takes hold of my bound hands and cuts them loose. My heart skips a beat, then returns to a semi-normal rate.

"Go, wash yourself. I'll give you ten minutes, and then you're done."

His words were beyond intimidating. I gave him a small nod and proceeded to bathe in the river.

The water is cold. I run my fingers through my hair as the water soaks my body. It’s a relaxing sensation. A feeling I haven’t experienced in what seems to be an eternity.

"That's enough. Get your ass out of the river."

He no longer had his balaclava on and his chiselled facial features were clearly visible; a strong jaw line, a clean face, and short brown hair that seemed to be receding. As I make my way out of the river, he didn't bother about binding my hands.

On the walk back I notice there are no tracks leading to the camp. I have no idea how we got here or how I can escape. I try not to look suspicious as I scan my surroundings, I casually move my head left to right, appearing to track the movements of nearby wildlife.

Once back at the pickup, he shoves me to the ground. For the first time since being taken captive, my hands save me from a face-plant. I turn over. The man with the ginger goatee stares back at me from the end of the barrel – the gun is pointed directly at my face.

The seconds pass as if they were minutes. Our gazes lock, nothing dare brakes our concentration. A smirk slowly spreads across his face; it turns then to a smile and then full on laughter. So maniacal. I keep my eye contact with him but I can’t help the thoughts crossing my mind, wondering why he is laughing.

"Ha-ha, I won't kill you. Yet."

He says to me, with particular stress on the ‘yet’. I can feel it, my time is coming. The when and why elusive now, but it is certain; as certain as I know the sun will rise tomorrow. He pushes me to the ground and walks off, toting the gun on his shoulder and walking back to the truck.

Twisted Dawn (part two)

I walk through the door, to find the bitch lying in the bathtub; she shrieks and begs for mercy. Like hell she'll get that. I pull a machete from my back pocket, her screams get increasingly louder. Not for long. I stab her, and it's empowering I just can't stop. I stab over fifty times and it is fantastic. She had it coming to her; she knew that I would come back. I am a man of my word. Her lifeless body sinks to the bottom of the now red water. I pulled the paper out of my pocket and crossed out her name. Three to go. They will all go like you.

--------

I wake up to rain dripping onto my forehead. It's pouring and cold. I hear the roar of thunder in the distance and a bolt of lightning illuminates the horizon. I scramble under a nearby pine tree to try to gain some protection from the wild weather. I begin to remember the dream I had. I killed somebody? Was this even a dream? Maybe this is why I am here. Questions bombarded my mind; I have no idea how to answer or where to start.

I look over to the truck to see the two men asleep. I try think back, as hard as I can, to remember how I got here. I have no recollection, and the puzzling events leading up to where I am today are starting to give me a pounding headache. This is all too confusing, I really am overwhelmed with it all. I feel like breaking down, showing utter weakness. I know I can't. Not yet. My head continues to pound like a boxer giving deadly blows to one against the ropes. This is too much for me. I sit myself against the tree and try my best to get back to sleep.

--------

Yeah, this is it. 639 Forde Street. I try the handle of the door, it's locked. Fuck it. I kick the door down and I hear someone call out. That's the voice I am familiar with. That's the voice I'm looking for. I turn left into the kitchen, to see a balding man. Bingo. He tries to get out of his seat, stumbles and falls to the ground. He pleads to me, like it’ll do his soul any good. Before I pull out my trusty 9MM he throws a knife at me which slices my right forearm. I hesitate for a short second. Enough to smirk; and then shoot, emptying an entire magazine into his obese corpse. I wipe my blood on his face in a disrespectful manner.. Two down, two to go.

--------

It's now daylight. The sun is shining somewhat, but the temperature feels the complete opposite. What the hell was last night all about? The dreams I am having are really starting to freak me out.

The wind blows gingerly across my face, carrying with it laughter. The two men are sharing a joke. I get off the grass and walk over to the pick-up. I lean on the side as they eye me up, I sense another beating coming. The man with the ginger goatee pushes me out of the way and grabs a tyre iron from the back of the pick up. Anger has clearly overwhelmed him.

He begins to bellow at me "You want to know how it feels? Huh? You want to feel the torturous pain you left on families after what you did? People like you don't deserve to live."

Before I can say anything, he swings wildly at me. I fend off the first blow and something catches my eye. A scar, about 5 inches long on my right forearm. Identical to the wound I had in my dream. What the hell does this mean? Am I....Am I a....

My eyes are caught on what seems to be a breakthrough with my sceptical dreams. Without focusing on what else is happening, I crumble to the ground. The man with the goatee doesn't let up, I cop a devastating blow to my knee. He's laughing manically, and I'm losing focus. I black out in a heap next to the truck.

Twisted Dawn (part three)

The weather was dark and ominous, mirroring the mood…just how I like it, a smile spread across my face at the thought of it. I stepped out of the Mercedes and ran to shelter. I flicked the rain off my trench coat with my hands and check myself in the windows reflection. It's go time. The weapon of choice was my 9mm; I felt under my coat for the holster, assuring me it is where it should be. The door was ajar…something was not right. I stepped into the hallway, family portraits are plastered over the walls. I stopped and peered at one, recognising two people. My targets.

I creep down the hardwood hallway. The steps I took echoed throughout the house loudly even though I was being extremely careful. I know something isn't right here. Are they gone? How could they be gone? They don't know anything about me, and what I was about to do.

The bedroom is to the second left. Before I turn the handle to enter; I take a deep breath. Air, my motivation. That's all I need now. The door now open, I see my targets lying in bed. I think myself it couldn't be any easier. As I draw the 9mm out of my holster, I am struck from behind. Unwillingly I fall to the ground. The bear-skin rug did nothing to stop my head hitting the ground in a rough and harsh way The gun flies under the bed and I lay on the ground motionless. I can feel myself my mind fading, I’m about to black out. Before I do though, I hear the forceful words of "Hey boss, he's down."

--------

I wake, knowing what I am. There's nothing at all about me that questions it. I am a monster; I am nothing close to human. I am a killer; a damn good killer. The victims meant nothing to me at all. I'd seen them on the train, at the supermarket, at the mall. They knew little of my existence. Maybe a sly smile I could have given once or twice, would of been the only acknowledgement I'd ever given them before those fateful nights. Maniacal laughter erupts from within me. The best of me is the worst in me. They know the truth, and now so do I. I am no longer living life in a shade of uncertainty. I am a force to be reckoned with. My victims were just innocent people. The newspapers can now read 'William Kelly did this.'

"You fucked them over! You're a lunatic! You're not human; you’re shit! A worthless piece of trash. This is the end. Don't bother begging for your life. You have none."

His words mean nothing to me; he is just a man with a goatee. I am the superior one; I am one top of the world.

With a single bullet, he was right. Monsters like me don't deserve to live.

And maybe one day, she'll know my name....

Even a thousand miles away, you still glow on the horizon.

The illumination you make, lights up my all.

And the glow shows on my heart.

And reflects back on how you've changed my life.

Everything about you, seems to be surreal.

How can dreams taste so sweet, though?

Your lips on mine are a perfect match.

The sun comes up when we're together,

And shines down all it's light and glory.

And every night I go to sleep, darling.

I know you'll be there in the morning.

Your eyes are my street-lights,

Who guide me on my way.

No matter what the weathers like,

You're my night and day.

The seas I'd part to see you,

The planes I'd catch to touch you.

The miles I'd run to hold you,

The thing's I'd do to show you,

Just how much I love you.

Nothing seems to change

Happiness is an eye-catching girl,

Making the sun that much brighter.

Her scent brings a smile to your face,

As you can't help but stare.

Every kiss you share, heightens you.

Builds you up.

Everything about her makes it all worth while.

She makes love sound easy.

Morning comes, without her.

Once again, it rains and pours.

Always one step ahead,

and you're a sucker for love.

Dear little Aisling

Roses cover the front of the property where you were found.

An accident, a true heart shattering accident.

The whole country stopped to find you,

And find you we did.

But we were just too late.

Your smile lit up your parents life,

You were loved, undoubtedly

You covers the front pages of papers,

Prayers were made with your name.

No longer alive, but forever remembered.

A little girl, who deserved her life

Taken, by the wind.

R.I.P Aisling Symes.

Going under, looking up.

Speckled skies above me,

As I sail away in this boat of life.

I gaze up to see the crescent moon smiling,

The orb of night listens to my confessions.

The tears flow into the ocean,

Deep blue, and full of lost lovers and secrets.

The wind whispers

dive, dive.

I sing aloud, an ode to myself.

"Sinking ships and lovers lies

Tonight it seems I will die

I scream aloud, going below.

Tonight I am the forgotten man."

I hold my breath as the stars wave goodbye.

Their last ditch efforts of crashing to earth,

Are not enough to save me from myself.

I sink below, into broken hearts

and a reservoir of valentine's tears.

I need a spring in my step.

The day greets us with a frozen handshake.

It's ice-cold fingertips makes me shiver all over.

His words strike me deep,

"I've kidnapped spring"

Every morning, I now awake.

In my warm haven, scared to dip my toes out.

Because I know you've stolen spring.

My jersey is just enough to keep you from affecting me.

I peer over my shoulder,

There you are with your vile smile.

Maniacally laughing away, with blood-shot eyes.

Bring me back my spring you bastard.

You've already had your turn this year.

I have no idea why I wrote this crazy Alice-In-Wonderlandesque poem.

You know there's always tomorrow.

Tomorrow though, never comes.

In its suspense, it teases us.

So close, yet so far away.

Taunting us, tomorrow slows down time.

Every tick,

Every tock,

Slower.

Tomorrow laughing at us,

We're suckers for tomorrow.

Always wanting it,

Always waiting for it,

Yet,

It never comes.

If you run

Don't give up.

Don't give in.

The future of himself depends on it.

His alter-ego pictured in his mind.

Motivating him, giving him that needed boost.

Don't give up.

Don't give in.

Sweat drips off him, he is pushing himself to the max.

His heart beats frantically,

His legs, cramping up.

His alter-ego pictured in his mind.

Don't give up.

Don't give in.

Every beat of the music,

More motivation for him to do it.

Every step, closer to his goal.

With his alter-ego pictured in his mind.

Don't give up.

Don't give in.

Cherry

Her lips spoke of hell.

Cherry red.

They led me to believe everything you said was true.

Lipstick stained lies.

She knew she could have it all her own way.

With one single kiss.

The seductive scent of murder,

She spoke with I Love You's

She spoke with poison.

Her finely filed nails ran down my neck.

Just one touch,

It was death.

The aroma of seduction,

Lingered on my lips.

She sucked the life out of me.

With just one single kiss.

Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town

I seem to recognize your face
Haunting, familiar yet, I can't seem to place it
Cannot find the candle of thought to light your name
Lifetimes are catching up with me
All these changes taking place, I wish I'd seen the place
But no one's ever taken me
Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...

I swear I recognize your breath
Memories like fingerprints are slowly raising
me, you wouldnt recall, for I'm not my former
It's hard when you're stuck upon the shelf
I changed by not changing at all, small town predicts my fate
Perhaps that's what no one wants to see
I just want to scream...hello...
My god its been so long, never dreamed you'd return
But now here you are, and here I am
Hearts and thoughts they fade...away...

Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...

I love Facebook.

PLEASE CLICK ON THE PHOTO FOR A BETTER LOOK AT HOW AWESOME THIS SHIT IT

Words.

Music has the power to change hearts.

Hearts can change minds.

Minds can change the world.

I thoroughly admire this bloke.

The juggernaut,

The superhero.

He comes, gracious as gracious can be.

Gifted, talented.

All eyes lie on him.

Every single move,

Every play.

Scrutinised.

Applauded.

He stands up,

Rises above everyone.

Every battle he fights,

He is a warrior.

A playmaker,

A winner.

Poets Block....

A black and white vision of a defeated heart.

I stand lifeless, absent of emotion.

This pen and paper, my one release.

This pen and paper, the real me.

Countless days spent contemplating who I am.

Every vivid account,

Every single moment;

A reflection of someone who was never me.

I spent so much time hiding,

That I’m still waiting to be found.

I poured myself into the darkness,

Leaving a shade of my former self.

A faceless figure,

A shadow cast,

Monochrome in a colour world.

They say every second wasted,

Is another second lost. But;

Every second I spent with you,

Was another piece of myself I found.

Written by Adam Rowe and Stephen Gallagher, for the film 'Poets Block'.