Sunset

I am travelling towards you,
and the night,
like a brown-skinned girl
ablaze with emotion,
is stepping boldly out of her clothes.

I am travelling towards you,
and the light,
like a bare-skinned girl
in a cool blue ocean,
is diving to depths she barely knows.

No Matter

You sleep here always in my bed,
Your soul is never far from me,
No matter what the gods have said.

Long ago, you packed and fled,
But how can you be happy?
You sleep here always in my bed.

To another, you are safely wed,
Yet ever restless like the sea,
No matter what the gods have said.

The sky around you glows bright red,
But there’s no fire to embody.
You sleep here always in my bed.

My passion for you won’t stay dead,
And you know this to some degree,
No matter what the gods have said.

So what tomorrow lies ahead?
What lovers do we dare to be?
You sleep here always in my bed,
No matter what the gods have said.

Erato

White word-sheets are being filled,
like mirrors of the muse,
as a woman is reflected
in leg-revealing dresses.

Sometimes I desire her,
sometimes she eludes me,
but mostly – we climb stone stairs
together, to gently clasp the stars.

Martin McCarthy lives in Cork City, Ireland, where he studied English at UCC. He has published two collections: Lockdown Diary (2020) and Lockdown (2021). His most recent poems appear in the pandemic anthology, Poems from My 5k, and in the journals: Drawn to the Light, Seventh Quarry Poetry, Poetry Salzburg, The Lyric, The Road Not Taken, The Orchards, WestWard Quarterly, Better Than Starbucks, Blue Unicorn, and Lighten Up Online. He was shortlisted for the Red Line Poetry Prize, and is a nominee for the 2022 Pushcart prize. At present, he is working on a long sequence of love poems, titled Book of Desire, and these poems are taken from that sequence. Visit his website here.

Originally featured on the Chained Muse

Original Comments – from the Chained Muse