Two Poems from Mark McConville

Mark McConville, Poetry

Dear Mercy.

In a state of disrepair

Clutching onto old clothes

You left to be burned

To be dispossessed from memory.

Alcoholic taste in my swollen mouth

My tongue quivers at the next drop

It burns, and burns until my eyes water

Until my fists clench and my liver screams for dear mercy.

The approach to this pain

Is to drink more

To collide with enemies when they’re not even there

They’re in my thoughts

Melting into my brain.

Stricken by ghosts on the TV set

Fear comes to me down my arm like the signs of a heart attack

They’re flying around the overflowing ashtray

Nipping at my resolve, carrying banners,

That say ‘’you’re dead to me too’’

And these old clothes may need to be burned

So I can return to a state of normality

So this room can breathe again

With your spirit dead then I can try to open doors

To an outside world brimming in chaos and beauty.

Has the world turned from vibrant colours to a sorry blend of grey?

In these times

Politics don’t matter

Hearts marbled in grace do.

Tired and broken

We roam disenchanted

Thrown to the wolves of power.

I can’t

I’m sick

Of pride being dragged across the floor

It isn’t as relevant as before.

Stay quiet

Don’t let them see your weaknesses.

The Line Died.

You spoke to me on a payphone

Last night when you had alcohol seething in your veins

A monster you can’t control, a tyrant pulling you under,

This phone call epitomized love dying.

I sensed from your voice

Your addictions were aching

Powder up your nose

Bloodshot eyes disrupting your clear complexion.

You were a girl with so much vigor

A peacemaker dazzling strangers and friends

Your intelligent mind a capsule of invigoration

Your heart pulsating through your tattooed chest.

I met you at a casual university

You were smarter than me

Had numbers colliding with words in your head

You could recite poetry and writing of all kinds

I was at your disposal, I would have died for you.

When you started drinking

I was standing on a landmine

Around you I felt explosive

We were entangled in love

Counting change for the next fix of adoration

From wilder worlds full of color and dispositions.

It’s strange now that we’re despising ourselves

Your voice crackled that night

On an old receiver built fifty years ago.

Rain fell 

That night too,

I could hear the storm brewing

The tress rustling

The cars speeding

Moments in time rushing

For a conclusion.

I couldn’t help you

You were out of town

Struggling you stand upright

Sick as a dog

Not ate in days

Your dreams struck by rage.

And I was in sitting praying to God

That someone would save you from yourself

The line died…