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John Trainor

John Trainor

The wronged wife.

Did you see?
In her eyes,
That sparkle?
 
I think she knew you once,
 
Or twice!
 
And yet, did not know you!
 
For, in truth,
                       I
                        Know
                            You!
 
And my eyes are dull!

(1986)

Other works by John Trainor...
Hunting for fire dragons in the park

Crisp cold crunch of boots through… Silent, skeletal trees, hiding lit… Yet, you must watch for movement i… For fire dragons can sleep in stea… Still.
 1
A bad morning

Grief is like a deep pool you fall into from time to time. One moment you are walking along life’s weary path and the next you are drowning. Eye achingly broken, flogged by tears and w...
The Festival Poet

Today I invested some time. In, The space between the spaces. Pushing through gaps thinner than… A particle here,
Love is?

Nobody loves you. They say that they love you. Love you. Love you. But you can’t hear!
My Aslan

How can I describe you in a song? Portray the beauty I see before m… Sing of your lions mane, your spar… And of the way you move me. Will you love me in the morning?
 3
Suicide

You shouldn’t have to live because… It’s not that I don’t love you or… It’s just that sometimes the pain… We live in a society where suicide… Failure.
 2
Moments of Joy

Like when my darling Matt threw back his head on the back seat of the car and at the top of his five year old voice triumphed, “and I wish you joy,” (oh what a tremolo), “and happiness,...
She’s Gone?

She will stroke you in your dreams… She will expect you to know that o… She will journey on in a state we… She will hold within the love you… And never.
A kicking from the Kirk, a booting from the Baptist mafia, choking from a Catholic. I’m still here!

For all the bejeebus believers. Your sight is flawed, Your faith is false. Your certainty of soul salvation, A promise and a lie.
At The End

At the end it may seem everything… It’s not! It’s just, you’re done! Shut the fuck up angsting your fin… It’s not,
Black Dogging

It’s the blackest of black dogs, That steals your will and runs wit… Like a stick in its mouth, Not towards but away. Away.
A voters dilemma

When I get my postal vote I’ll sc… Ponder over which way to go, weigh… I just can’t trust Clegg the betr… Of calm and cuddles and logic and… That when we voted for liberal dem…
 1
Plea to parent

I don’t want to hear that. What it was you said. No son of mine could be like that. I’d rather you were dead! Things we shouldn’t talk about.
 1
Life in the fast lane

Living in the city is like, Not living. Bodies beaten and blown, As if by a blizzard, Swerve, stumble and slam against e…
An easy ending?

In the mists of time, Before the dawn, Your name was written with mine. And so we met. And became,
 1



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