"Painting is silent poetry, and poetry painting that speaks"
The Poet and the Painter
Poetry by Pete McCartney, Art by Martina Caffrey Shannon
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Words Words merge Peter McCartney | Truth
Peter McCartney |
Infancy
Peter McCartney | VIPs We know Peter Mc Cartney |
Hidden
No wake No ripple No butterfly affect In this, a vast place Left behind Maybe seen, light reflect Proof only of a past place A journey’s stealth Long since gone A stone lost Its destination never found Implies a presence Of what can’t be seen Forensic proof A possible, hidden place
Here Beyond the shadow A rare, extraordinary place A motion held ecosphere Within Every ripple Thought Pencil dropped Dents, marks Defines Future generations Construct
Our very being Momentarily borrowed From where we stand Liquid immersed Like fish in a tin A cycle of motion To, from Bright light We thrive
Nothing ever owned Possessed Only momentary grasp In temperature change
Our reality apart The change in light That penetrates Heats All that is here Is ours An eternal embrace All is one
The air Sky Sea Dirt beneath our feet Dismantled past Awaits new, smart, build Future generations
Beyond small motion confine The universe can never know
Peter McCartney
I Still Stand A child perplexed
Peter McCartney | Circled, Green The park Souls daily Recklessly spent In a catacomb of pain So very close A baby’s life Taken A sacrifice to a cardboard box The darkness of this normality haunts me If ever I should pray I would pray it always will Boys play as boys should play As men, all thankful For such a sheltered place Peter McCartney |
The moon teases me An arc marked By fallen light There A diametric reflected light A curve I see There is no doubt I ponder where the sun can be This my only clue Yet I know This The arc of distance times Peter McCartney |
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Newtons Apple
Burning Whip
Silicon Sun worshippers
Pretty Girl
Golden grass, Distant hills
The poem
The picture of the truth
The inked T shirt
The profile picture
The flirt
History delete
The walks
Coffee dates
The mountains climbed
The over time
Sneaked visits
Beeping phone
The party left
The flask of simple water, shared
On a sunny hillside
The seismic feel of the slightest touch
The name, it seems can’t be said.
The shielded screen
A night spent
The manufactured discontent
The start of a journey justified
The rhyme hid
Left to find
Not a clue
A message clearly, sent
A future planned
The first step
Blame, the fabricate
The road out
A future lost to simplest truth
To a poem wrote
A future lost
That disregards, the one that moves the pen.
Distance In Between
Words read fill my head
The concrete beneath my feet
Greenish flowerish carpet
Memory can’t quite complete
The walls, that dull hall
The rush
Suds on shoulder
Not important to discard
To gentle taps
Page turned
Smiles, love left
In penciled lines
Tomorrow’s promise
In a moment, slight
Lost, distance in between
The soul flares
A memory
A smile
A memory
In its rightful light
Poetry by Peter McCartney
Art by Martina Caffrey Shannon
