Poetry: Selections from Mark McConville



Feeling Its Glow

I fell for you
With soaring confidence
And pushed away the most important elements of being
A respectable man.
 
We stood at the corner of paradise
Looking in, and feeling its glow
We couldn’t quite fit in
And we couldn’t quite love the colourful ambiance,
Of the good life.
 
The black, the dark,
The tarred lungs
And the restless hearts
We have in our battered bodies
Are barely keeping us alive.
 
This city has hooked us in
Broken us down,
Nearly to dust
And the people are manic here
Walking on cracked roads
And drugging their souls.
 
I fell for you
In this city
Where neon lights look pretty
Oh so pretty.
 
The dirt in your nails
The bleached hair
Your crooked smile
And your ugly personality
Are all relatable.
 
So, what next?
A trip to the emergency room
Where blood spills on white coats
And blue scrubs.



Under The Moonlight

You say I haven’t got a heart
Only a twisted mind
Carrying creatures which tend to kiss
My memories goodbye
 
I am shell you say
With a liver pickled in toxins
You say I am not allowed to be apart of this world
As I’m a jaded character with no emotions.
 
To be perfect you must kill the imperfections
I am not pristinely cut from a golden cloth
So, what do you want from me?
Do you want to see me suffer under the moonlight?
Turn into the wolf that will shred to pieces
The people who crossed me.
 
Can’t you feed me enough kindred spirit
So, I can almost seem valuable
To you and the world.



Empty Mind, Empty World.

Stored up rage
Becomes an exhibit
You’re at your worst
Trying to prevail in a room
Suffocating your ambitions.
 
Your mother told you to prosper
And fight tooth and nail
For your prize
All energy has been sapped
By this room and the ghosts which occupy
The corners
And your mind.
 
Your father told you
To break bread with anyone
With genuine shine
This world is full of crooks.
 
Every moment needs a piece of your heart
Every dream needs to be sifted from a nightmare
All books look dangerous and could combust
Spreading words of conviction and rumours about you.
 
Books?
They’re treats of desire,
Monumental to the world
Educational pieces of truth.
 
Is it all in your head?
A tornado breaking down all meaning
Of thought and voices
You used to think intelligently.
 
Empty mind, empty world.



I Need Wake Up.

The stars look ugly tonight
Everything looks misshapen
This moment in time
Seems to be dragging on.
 
Why have I to be dishonest?
Why can’t I just rage against the barrier shrouding
The middle part of this nightmare
I find myself trapped in.
 
I want to wake up
And feel a breeze
I want to wake up without a hangover
On a bench not covered in vomit.
 
This city consumes clarity
And the newspapers spell out tension
Humans are robots
Of contention, walking and dropping.
 
I need to wake up.



Love Has No Meaning.

Tonight,
Love has no meaning
It has slipped beneath the undertow
Shattering and screaming.
 
The world is loveless
Light has shimmered one last time
Through the darkness
And the billboards peel like skin
Revealing last years news.
 
There isn’t even a spotlight
For those hungry for love
Or the ones losing their memories.





Mark McConville is a freelance music journalist who has written for many online and print publications. He also likes to write dark fiction and his poetry chapbook Lyrics From The Chamber is out now.

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