Slide category: HomePage | Martin O Regan

In The Beginning

Posted on February 23, 2025 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

I am God!

I have always been

A designer in fact

Of my own destiny

Open to chance

A brittle reality

Shattered distorted

By time

And thought

I am God!

The Alpha Omega

The rendering

And sundering

The dream in the haze

The far flung shadows

And the stark

Clear reality

Defined by my ways

I am God!

A devil in failure

A harm to the innocent

Around me

Inside me

My thoughts

Needling me

Creating reality

Self-propagating

By mine own hand designed

I am God!

Therefore powerful

But left alone in the sandpit

Of my doubt

Grown unstable

I’m reinvented

Become human

Lost my way

In the wilderness

Not emergent empowered

Rather weak uncertain

Flesh and bone

I am fearful

By mine own hand

Now I’m mortal

Love Once More

Posted on March 5, 2018 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

That far flung dalliance with Destiny
Forever fettered by my idea of beauty
Instead searching as I do the memories
Trawling all the bars, as Stu said,
All the vacant corners of the heart
Where ridicule and sentiment abide
Torn close because the distance threatens
To ensue a truth as well as any falsehood too
The latter factored in beyond my conscious mind
The former as much as always a surprise.
“And yet your talk of women only…”
Tis true
And this because the void therein was once defined
Inside the mind
Inside the soul
Of youth and sorrow
Inside the pain that brought no pity, and so
I rose a desecrated entity by my own hand
And with the lip and glisten
Kiss and touch
And doubt and anger
Only fear
And with the fear I straddled beauty on a dockside
And somewhere in a moment I found Life where breath no longer reigned
I found shape in a distortion of the romance in which I had failed…
And it is now the very essence of my being.

Le Petit Esprit

Posted on February 16, 2018 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

A broader understanding spilt through the cracks
Poured through,
Pored over
But initially, accidentally
I opened up, my brother
Or at least found reason
And now sit-
A yesterpast-
Less vacant
More fulfilled
More enlightened
But less alive.
The numb-drum moments our debauchery
Inclined us to graves -pre-humously-
Inclining us to states debilitating…
Yet invigorating.
For was it not today in the half death
(Not the Petit Mort)
That I did not waver.
I stood profound
And let the criticism wash over me:
Not insulted- but defined.