Tag Archives: creative writing

Random

Roses grow where the rivers flow

Do you think so

Well yes

By the bank?

The river bank

Where the crocodile sings

Roars

Yeah roar

Not in this country

Or county

Unless one escaped from the zoo

They’d have a long way to crawl

To the Liffey

The scummers would get it

Ah the croc would win

Be hard to win with a crocodile

Or a cross woman

Eyed or nature

Either or

Coffee or tea

Wine

Red or white

A big glass

Really

Nah red

Frankie mcgivney random conversation again just to get back into swing of the words

Begin

With yellow roses

Scented on the touch

Of skin fragrent

In morning dew

With translucent glimpses

Of passing ghosts

Behind fluttering curtains

With words lined in order

Of radiant sentences

Constructs of telling paragraphs

In silver lined tales of imagination

With a smile

Radiant through time

Illuminating dusty trails

Where dreams sleep

Between adventure strolls

Frankie writing words 1st Jan 2022

Small things

Butterfly on my hand

Where will you go

Will you stay a while

So I can recall the red

Mix with the blue

Summer sky of rain

Where will you pour

Will you stay a while

Upon my brow

Remind me of my skin

Alive in your touch

Words of an authors tale

Where will you flow

Will you stay a while

To caress the space within

Empty of all except the words

You share to tell the world

The path you spin

(C) frankie Mcgivney

No longer I lie

Without a whisper to touch

The skin beneath my hope

My eyes fluttering to dream

I relish the Twitter , the tweet

And the tune they sing

Betwixt the green and brown

Calling to new lovers to hear

The beauty of their mellow

Song drifting in the air

(C) frankie Mcgivney the moments before sleep listening to my travelling companions among the leafs upon the trees

A seat

The bench, old and worn, was cold to the touch through the wool of my trousers

Hi

I could see a line of grime etched into the lines beneath her face as she looked up from her can and threw the shortest of dirty looks expertly mingled with a sound mixture of disinterested distain

Sometimes no doesn’t have to be put Into words or perhaps a look is the strongest no

Still and all it’s not a bad day all things considered

The look again this time I noticed a bunch of her hair stuck together with blood or sweat or vomit or whatever sticks hair together when a member of the human fraternity doesn’t get to avail of the washing facilities of a day or even a month

You can go fuck of if you think you getting something out of me I’m no hooker

I’m no punter either

Good cos I’m particular about who I be having the fun with

Me too

Yeah right

Yeah right exactly

Don’t be getting fucking smart you fucker

I just saying I not into hookers

You should be

Ah here

Well the state of you with the head on you and that Gammy eye and you look like your mother picked out the clothes. Is that wool?

Feck sake you’re worst than a commentator on one of them shows

What shows

You know the xfactor bollixology

Here listen don’t be using that kind of language in front of a Lady

Fair enough

And a slow breeze trailed across our path while we both looked on at the city passing by. a quietness in the kaleidoscope of hustle

You know no one talks as they walk

I looked up and listened and watched

Your man over there is talking on his phone

I thought I told you not to be a wise fucker

You only mentioned being a smart one

Whatever. He is on a phone that don’t count

Why not

It just doesn’t

Why

Cos it’s like the mad cunts who talk to themselves it’s not real talking it’s just pretend chitter chatter

I see what you mean

About the phone

No about them not talking they just are all rushing

Yeah

Yeah

Have you a light

Have you a fag

Yeah

Right then

And I saw her eyes were brown when she held the flame

She would have been a beautiful daughter to some Da a long time ago

She held the smoke deep inside, feeling it’s warmth before slowly releasing it back into the world

I better make a move

She nodded and looked back down

I touched her shoulder gently when i stood, the briefest of contacts; she didn’t react, maybe she hadn’t noticed

I walked on with out a word been uttered to a soul, a member once more of the rushing throngs

(C) frankie mcgivney

Just a random story of top of my head I hope it reads okay. The words I love to write

Rambling crosskiel road races

Passing screams of bikes

Leather clad fans of speed

Swish by my walking mind

Listening to words wise

On the blues to make the

Melancholy shoes trample

The green fields to hear

The summer time tune

Of blue tit wings fluttering

The line well worn where

Beauty waits for the touch

Gentlly strong grasping

The joy of dew dripped

Strands of natures gift

(C) frank mcgivney

Rambling

And i dont remember things

I once tried to forget

Words are lost and thoughts

Float away and

The battle is inside

My mind

To remember to fight

To reply to my own

Questions

With answers i cant recall

And i walk

So far so long so why

Not when theres no longer

The war to delve withen

The places where memories

Were of no use

For noone asks your name

When the sword is drawn

And blood is spilled

Not theirs but mine

And i regret not using

The strength and letting

Them win

Not for mine

But for theirs

And the whipping cut to

The bone where it smiled

And my heart sang

And cliche here and

Cliche there

I see the flower upon the wall

And wonder where the roots

Drink the dew from withen

The stone

Which reminds me of my heart

The passion lost the concrete set

I will not break

I will not falter

I will lose

Once more

But have i ever lost

You have to be

A part

For someone to.be tbe two

A battle on you own

Is no more than a farce

For you to bemoan

The self pity feeds upon

The whore of a dream

You build around

The lonely moon

Up where you stare

Beneath the stars

Whose twinkle caught

The eye not turning

towards the sun

Which burns a hole

Where your mind forgots

To breathe

The calming breath

To remind me

Of the lake side

Shore of daffodils

Sweetening the air

Along the banks

where the dragonfly

Grows

To.be continued

To be restored

(C) frankie mcgivney

girls in love 

she smiled feeling the skin of her finger caress the palm of her waiting hand. Beyond the walls a man from Belfast sang a tune about a dance. The silver from the New York moon shone through the slit in the curtains tracing a line between their prone bodies splitting the bed in two equal parts, a jigsaw waiting to be pieced together in mutual desire. Somewhere a child with over eager lungs screamed for a mammy who was too drunk to care, a cat shimmied through an alley in the display of metal rubbish bins beneath the window, where their eyes sought the unquestioned answers of a lifetime of timid downcast smiles and whispered hellos. 

ramblings lets see what happens

her name came up on the screen

i hesitated wondering

hello her sweet voice said

Hi I replied wanting to say something more but failing

how have you been

the same

i miss you

me too, where did you go

just roamed

oh right

where are you now

half way between here and no where

how do i get there

you leave her and thumb naked

its cold outside

it always was383542_10151100916073527_1434783921_n

the phone clicked

she still had the same number as before I could ring back some other time, but now i had to write.