That Irish Woman
the rain.....
rat tat tat...rat tat tat
on the roof.
the irish woman's
deep words
of resentment
'scoundrel', 'rascal'
seem to turn the sound
into notes of approval.
a deep
emphathy
in me
trails the rain
striking the
high keys in my heart.
the stirring
echoes of the rain.
long overdue -
a new word for
such futile angst,
emphathy?
history,
the pain that
accompanies it.
not the first time
similar words
run from
these souls
in my occasional brush
with the irish,
the fine people who
give us plenty of
literary luminaries.
these literary giants
who in their agony
for salvation,
recognition
spun words
to give us
a view of the
different shades
of emotions,
thoughts that
the loss of dignity
would rock
a human pyshce.
a shell painful
brush with sand
that eventually
turns out a
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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