Below, find poetry about it, its emotional experiences, its mental health and spiritualism
personal-poetry
complete graph
one finger waving her
deeper into the concrete trees
two days until the absence strikes
wings torn off its back
like a sadistic child to a moth
three lights blare
setting the venom in motion
four years of waltzing alone
discordant melodies
sung to an off-key
five Men clap
their beings bearing rotten fruit
six more eternities
until its love fades
and the soul gives their last gasp
hymn
break it down
to little pieces
and you will find the spark
below the wreckage,
the ground shakes
a pleasuring rhythm,
a song she idly hums
below the wreckage,
the ground shakes
a pleasuring rhythm,
a song she idly hums
She waits for us all
gemstones or
weathered rocks
She values all
the little tumults
the gigantic nothings
and this star burns for Her
as bright as she can
for as long as She hopes
Seonínismo
the earth stopped talking long ago
the land is patchwork,
the lady Éire traditional,
glass-eyed and vapid
it is of republican blood,
good RA men.
good catholics, all.
it curses the day it landed here;
a waste of irish ink
perhaps a bog-corpse
would better serve her nation
sinking poem
have you seen
where the concrete shines
a calming beauty
as you suffocate
and swim further,
for just a breath
star-shapes clutter your eyeline
liberation from the nightmare
but you survived,
despite your best intentions
the disappointment radiates
from the silent grey
as you turn into turf once more.
you look better like this
please be patient
it does not speak your english
nor your gaeilge
you can be understood
but never translated
it speaks in polygons
poorly tesselated
and many colours
splattered against the dark
you cannot salve
the isolation
the most it asks
is to wait