Adios

 

An old couch

Black and worn 

its pillows tossed one atop the other

Sits alone in the pine-strewn parkway.

 

A blanket

Like an ancient shroud

Shaped in the form of its last visitor

Lies at its edge. 

 

Was it a guest a passerby wonders

Or one who sleeps here in the dark

While I guaranteed, dream secure?

 

Thrown out into the night

With only an old woolen thing

To cover her sin? Upon closer inspection,

 

A love seat starved for affection

And all that was lost

At that dreary break of day.

 

Sombre

5/7/17

 

 

 

               

Yes Ma’am

(For all the women who thought it would be different)

 

We respect our women

Keep ‘em close to the hearth

Yes, Ma’am

 

We love women

Can’t live without ‘em

Yes, Ma’am

 

Let me open that door

For you Ma’am

Whilst I tip my hat

 

How’s about a spin

In my new pick-up

It’s a doozy, Susie

Yes, Ma’am

 

Let me carry you over the threshold

You’re light as a feather

And you sure know the way

To a man’s heart

Yes, Ma’am

 

We’re gonna have

A whole bunch of kids

Five, ten, twenty

Plenty for you to do

And I’ll take care of you

Yes, Ma’am

 

I’ll be steppin out with the boys tonight

No need to wait up again, sweetie

Ain’t nothin to worry about

Yes, Ma’am

 

Why don’t you invite

Some of the girls over

You know how you gals

Love to go on

Yes, Ma’am

 

Boys,

Here’s to our women

We respect ‘em

Don’t let anybody get near ‘em

Jes like her daddy told me

When he gave her away

Yes, Ma’am

 

We sure love our women

We love 'em to death

And

If they get out of line

We beat 'em to death

Yes, Ma’am

Yes, Ma’am

Yes, Ma’am

 

Siobhán Ó Mócháin Breathnach

November 10, 1995

 

Dream Dance

 

The curtain goes up

I stage a prayer for the living

but temptation flies to your face

now on wings to a future time.

 

Whispers circulate in my dream

dancing in the dark:

winter ocean waters

wash your eyes with sand.

You do not see my hand

like a forlorn cactus

against a desert sky

waving 

to your receding passion.

 

Light speaks of love

toward a dark cave

where my longings are stored

in a corner of your eye

hibernating

waiting to stir your blood awake.

You drift by

warped by fragmented moonlight

undone by nightshade.

 

Nothing adds up to nothingness

subtracts me to the limit

beneath myself

I look up and catch your feet

coming down hard

on my restless tongue.

 

Undaunted

I hurl a hurricane kiss

across the wild night air.

It tears your mask away

explodes

breaking a bluegreen smile

from your silence.

                                                                                                  

I feel a stranger

walking through me.

Some of who I am follows.

I told you to believe in life

but you agreed to death.

 

Comforting tea leaves

read my heart.

The curtain goes down

music up

I dance a prayer

for you.

 

Siobhán Ó Mócháin Breathnach  

August 4, 1992

Sol y Sombra /Sun and Shadow

( For Georgia O’ )

 

A woman apart

in another world

     at a distance,

a silent nod

turning away

formidable.

 

Exclusively alone

there is no other way

     taking possession

of the space

around her.

 

Generosity in secret

a certain clarity

       scared by her own

audacity

still courageous

                        out there

on a rocky ledge.

 

Barren and creative

no playground here

     a loner

severe as iron oxide

in red-rust hills.

 

Deep inside

patriarchal landscape

     wind in her face

cityscapes behind her

old world gone,

            her empty chair

at art-table.

 

Making old bones

and red rocks

     her country

her own:

God assenting

 

Siobhán Ó Mócháin Breathnach

June 2, 2009

 

Cholla Bedu

 

Her ideas

desert nomads

seeking a weave

deep in before

against the storm 

of now.

 

Her designs

pattern without words

shape diamonds without glitter

make triangles feeling of math

entwine east and west.

 

Her perceptions

mingle with sky and sand

find rhythm in the seasons

of the wool

she dyes and spins

reflect the sea in her eyes

smiling in Sadu House.

 

 

Her hands

like the jumping cholla

attach to the unknown

purposefully

place the cactus of her

new-new-mexican land

upon the old Bedu

she embraces.

 

Kathleen Hendrickson

artist of today and yesterday

a woman of now and then

in two worlds

interlacing her soul

within the tapestry of living

fully.

 

Siobhán Ó Mócháin Breathnach

May 4, 2010

 

 

Fata Morgana

 

Words and paint

are equal

on the last day,

 

in the space

between light and dark

a checkered life,

 

its everydayness

hangs

on the salt-filled air

 

of a conjured prophecy

mirage of memory

sorcery of the mind.

 

Certainty distorted

spills paradox

contradicting time.

 

The detective forfeits

the tried and true

for a disparate enchantment.

 

Near the Kuiper Belt

a lonely comet sees a way through

collides with doubt.

 

Light rays bend warm, cool,

soon a castle in the air

above the horizon.

 

On the altar of the Cosmos

a Siren of the Sea

says mass

       still

            matters.

 

 

Siobhán Ó Mócháin Breathnach

December 31, 2012