Colin Dardis
Visions of Atlantic  

We wrestled a path
up a Donegal mountain face
and sneaked our way
into an Atlantic view
full of grandeur and sparkle,
with walnut brown crags
domineering Northern waves
as they charged forth:
crash of wildebeest,
each trashing pure, white froth
into unmoving cliffs.
The ocean stretched out around us,
dipping beyond the horizon,
awaiting sunset,
with Tory Island peeking down
through the cloud
at the smalt blue coastline.
It was mid-Autumn,
with the tarred front of cloud
only lifting that morning.
The wind was still cruel,
but that sight, that shimmering
clear, frozen sight,
demanded us to stay.
Copyright 2007 Red Pulp Underground

A Schoolbag Full Of Rocks

This schoolbag heaves
with unread books:
tomes for learning, for display,
for keeps.
Nine years old,
carrying his father’s
Introduction to
Philosophy.
It is a word that suggests
nobility, prestige,
the accomplishment of education.

This book,
the philosophy tome,
is no playground ammunition:
it does not impress friends,
conquer the taunt of bullies
or attract girls.

It is for
teacher’s admiration
only,
the quiet wonder
of children
and their efforts.
Red Pulp Underground