My First Book of Poetry Tuesday, 09.08.94 Hidden Love A love so pure that angels cannot possess A love so much warmer than a fiery furnace A love so deep, it will not be concealed. A love so strange, it can not be revealed. A baby’s love, a mother’s love, A stranger’s love, a brother’s love, An animal’s love, an angel’s love: No love is quite so mighty. God’s love is shining through – Such power and passion evoked out of the blue. It’s building inside, ready to explode, Love of such strength can no Samson hold. Such reverent, relished rays can not be forlorn. Seek it when hidden, allow it to be worn. Thursday 23.03.95 Digging up my Grave Dolores O’Riordan can’t understand Why WB Yeats just sat there in his grave Sinead O’Connor says there has to be “Knowledge and understanding There has to be remembering And then grieving... Only then can there be forgiving.” Dr Arthur Janov would agree. Leonard Cohen says he can’t forget That he doesn’t remember what. Bono still hasn’t found what he’s looking for! Andy Bell submits to allow running to the sun. What if it’s only a falling star? Kurt Cobain wants to be raped by his friend. The Violent Femmes say “There’s nothing worth living for tonight”. Bjork says she needs to play dead “To curl up inside (her) private tortures” Dr Arthur Janov would disapprove. Primal Scream “want to get loaded And have a good time”. All Sheryl Crow wants to do is have some fun!
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