Millilitres & Other Poetry by Patricia Walsh

Online Open Mic – 2021

Our artist for today is poet, Patricia Walsh! Journey with her through the imagery and sway with each emotion.

My Favorite Line: “Waiting in the sitting room to simply apologize, An improvement to existence, summer cleaning”


Millilitres

Remembering trouble, I will wait for you
But for now I sleep, the anonymous arguments
Not looking my way once, typical persuasion
The overtured kiss preached to its final orders.

Perfecting for lost time, calling on election
Made with local ingredients, outgrown permissiveness
Driven through the lonely reckoning, however long
None for the arrogant instructions permanent.

The sacrosanct lectures, delivered through the rain,
This godly hypocrisy runs by the gallery
The misspelt overtures, eating out of the queue
Friends remaining staid, waiting on orders.

Tales out of school, walking into perfect dominion
Misunderstood colour shirt rings the changes
This viral vicarious partnership fulfils a prophecy
Association on a level runs past scrutiny.

Smoking past decorum, drinking through miseries
Not seen, happier that way, common ground foretolf
Expecting grace where docked, running safe
The perfected mornings, no associate will dismiss.

This sober quietude, no money made,
Hung and drawn silently, a fiscal smirk
Ripping hearts out of cavities, a remedial splurge
Risen by inflation, still remaining attractive.


Molecular Fallout

To complicate a parish, this was your reckoning
Welcoming firstborns to a messed-up planet,
Flying by midday a course denied
Computer music overhead initially looking for same,
The illiterate expense of a world service
Burrowed in the cold an obvious reward.

Tied to perfume, the rebel fragrance gone stale
Washing away iniquities blotted out slights
Drinking plenty of water, all for the good
Borrowing manufactured literature, not right now
The hapless forms grievances in the sundown,
The unfinished magnum opus cracks itself open.

Wondering what next to do, sealing depression
The after-hours scenario, anorexic acid sinks
Waiting in the sitting room to simply apologize,
An improvement to existence, summer cleaning
The incriminating jettisoned, faithful to the truth
Walked into these things with both eyes open.

Inflicting a singular music on the better ear
Watching through slick thoroughfares at night
Theatrical dancing in the catchall oasis,
Gifted, and booted, sleeping into a one-off purpose
A happy patience runs past eyes for the music
Years of acceptance fall out in the dark.


Raptured Puncture

In a tabernacle of a tower
Simplistic breakage mars its way forth
The incessant dream scared to submission
The insolvent modesty running past censure
The slow puncture back catalogue rendered sane
Watching for a given offence run forward.

Given leeway to annoy people, typical slant
The cracked-down behaviour avoiding respect
The sentient angel regarding his fork
Substitution for a long time, however straight
The buried common knowledge rises again
Star-crossed hatred turfing out the familiar.

Thriving on deviance, only if you’re sick
Buying and selling personality the hippy shakes,
Typefied to exclusion, sick to the bone
Abhorrence of the female pint writ large
The gluttonous paper, no apt disease
Love rendered apart over manufactured distance.

The paranoid spike, in pleasures obviated,
Kept back through rebellion, a slighted sore
Money on condemnation guaranteed prophecy
Not having a clue as to what the problem is
Photographing sweet purchases out of context
Confessed to a witchcraft boiling over purpose.


Artist:

Patricia Walsh was born in the parish of Mourneabbey, in north Co Cork,and educated at University College Cork, graduating with an MA in Archaeology. Her poetry has been published in Stony Thursday; Southword; Narrator International;  Trouvaille Review; Strukturrus; Seventh Quarry; Vox Galvia; The Quarryman; seeBrickplight, The Literatus, and Otherwise Engaged. She has already published a chapbook, titled Continuity Errors in 2010, and a novel, The Quest for Lost Éire, in 2014.  A second collection of poetry, titled Citizens Arrest, was published online by Libretto in 2020. A further collection of poetry, titled Outstanding Balance, is scheduled for publication in early 2021. She was the featured poet in the inaugural edition of Fishbowl Magazine, and is a regular attendee at the O Bheal poetry night in Cork city.

Marble Rolling & Other Poetry by Patricia Walsh

To What We Lost – Patricia Walsh

December is upon us! We have Patricia Walsh carrying us through the beginning of this month with rich poetry to savor. Look below to sink your teeth into it!


Marble Rolling

Marble rolling along the floor, perfected
Punctured preferences following suit,
Walking in a heightened show, laid on thick
Crying on bilateral shoulders an obvious trait,
Called-upon to dusk the husk of a tired unison.

The creeping expense, poisoning the back pocket
The high moral ground awaits its garden
Showed with wanton recollection rebelled
Cutting the alcohol with some sensical traits
Toxic association swollen in a hard-won smile.

Raging against closing time, manners forthcoming
Never holding a flashbulb to the ready-made,
Caught on high, too fall to sunder,
Access some arias till the recidivist squeaks
Tinctured through inclusion of another’s aside.

Scarred as needed, read from the bottom
This technological product behoves it’s gait.
Not permitting this mistake, willed as a wanted
Penny dropping into the well of softened need,
The necessary blood siphoned through suffering.

Coffee dropped down to you, courteous, satisfying
Wishing for the other side of the bar, clothed
In the cloths of heaven, this easier time,
Gone into pursuit of rarefied blood
The darkened whistle unheard, as if wanted.


Trapped Nerve

Needing a seat like any other, price already paid.
The acrostic beginnings burgeon on well
The rancid oasis beats to the sound of the converse
People wanting less to do with whole numbers.

Wanting more food, expenditure allowing
Watered-down prizegiving strip-lighted away
A turnover of friends meet and greet over snacks
Burnt and activated a fad contrived.

Watching over rainfall, the height of fear,
Aware of what is done, guilty in paperback,
Mourning simple losses as if life depended
Intercepted through sunlight, stranglehold overdone.

Ripped clothing over wealth, perennial fashion
What is not understood is recycled by the book,
Popularity in mid-road crushed in bed
More useless the better, impressing the singular,

The criminal proceeding, high-wire jewellery
Watched through competition, fingers in pies,
Aggravated eyelashes a pulchritudinous mess,
Fed rubbish through the gills a slotted burn,

Scruffy out of love, criminal affection aside,
Fed every sort of theory at the going rate
Persecution laughably easy, turned into affability
Not seen or sought for, ever again,


Detransition

No mannerly dichotomy can save us now
Karmafied baby dykes renege on form,
The mangy dog stands guard, for free,
Suited and booted, surveying the detectives
This luxury goes forth to asuage the few,

Ample brains being cooked, fed upon,
The unrequited feast dangles to oblivion,
Selecting broken hearts to disintegrate
The disinnocent going fast and easy with the times,

Streamlined blood, eating with another purpose
Reflexive sorrow bends back all supreme
Asked-for littering too glorious for some,
Sized against airstrikes on another country
Remaining in the news, God-feared like that,

Arrested improvement, go home and go to bed,
Intrusive conversation relaxed and enjoyed
Layered with accusations on how it was done,
Rattled into invalidity into seats being taken,

The overly serious disposition, dispatched home.
Finding massacres where the room does lie
Novelty dye jobs erupt the binary position
The better to offend, audition to high heaven
Seeing to burn-out the disciplinary station


Corrugated Walls

Glorified sweetness comes home to squawk,
The proper exits go through over written joy,
Exhuming sadness that goes through publication
Heard through corrugated walls, watching the money.

Giving glances a break, glossing over guidelines
The blighted handwriting matched for its colour
The ascertained corners run through your hair
The holy vocals singing hallelujah gone through.

The foreigners speaking native tongues
Gone home to suburbia, spectating where needed,
Writing at a loss to weaken the fingers,
No longer a typecast that determines the weight.

These defunct riches, faltered beyond recognition,
Advertising the divorce on a solemn counter
Clockwise, working perfume on tenterhooks
Elusive maturity stands its own guard.

This disgusting currency, spent out of glory,
Going through motions to fall once again,
Priced out of the market by the entertainment
The tin being needed again to be returned.

Needed to cry, whatever reason should suffice
The dismantled lover stalls the merry dance,
Hibernating from the scars of useless fashion
Relating to, hardening the thin walls of guidance.


Poet:

Patricia Walsh was born in the parish of Burnfort, Co Cork,and educated at University College Cork, graduating with an MA in Archaeology. Her poetry has been published in Stony Thursday; Southword; Narrator International;  Trouvaille Review; Strukturrus; Seventh Quarry; Vox Galvia; The Quarryman; Brickplight, The Literatus, and Otherwise Engaged. She has already published a chapbook, titled Continuity Errors in 2010, and a novel, The Quest for Lost Éire, in 2014.  A further collection of poetry, titled Outstanding Balance, is scheduled for publication in early 2021. She was the featured poet in the inaugural edition of Fishbowl Magazine, and is a regular attendee at the O Bheal poetry night in Cork city.