Drifting

To the dawn of fade
To the black of pane.
In the suffering, we see what grew
The dawn beneath.
Useless, useless the dawn of sight
In the wilderness we see the light
For all earth is crumble and cloud
Mist and fog, we drift
We drift,
Sing aloud.

Breathing

Pulsing and pulsing
Excite of the twitch
For fear is the key
Unlock as we lay
For as we brace
To angle and hold, fast but still
Pulsing and bold
Breathing, breathing
We dive to control
Harness what fear
Unlock as the mind
Weak withered battered and old
Propel, fighting
Pulsing and bold

Chains

Rouse, the fury and clank of the chains
Once held firm then glory, behold
Turns and squirms, crunching and crack
Freedom, invisible chains of the old
Fury but focus, ahead is a path
Righteous and just, a dawning a must
Released is the grasp, the holding so tight
Freedom, invisible chains of the old.

Morning

Rhythm and thump
Pushing and glide
Amaze as I stop
So sudden to ponder
The boy in my ears
I witness the wonder
It dashing it dashing
It dashing and free
Fledgling eyes, a comet of glee
Prancing and dancing as passers see
Lucky so lucky
Wonderful free

George C Keenan is a 37-year-old married father from Ballyfermot, Dublin. Drifting, written in February 2018, was his first poem.