Irish Writing: Patrick Joseph Dorrien


I had one of her in a wallet.
We stood on Caledonian Road,
The final separation .
I'm in turmoil, rejected, seeking.
She is tearful but I don't know why.
Am I dense , stupid, missing something.

Will I remember her? I remember her photo.
My wallet is stripped and the photo returned.
Do I not want to keep it? It burns me.
I'm looking for a painless transition.
She seems upset at its return.
But this is all conjecture, we didn't speak.

Centuries on. One wonders did the cold
Harden to hate. This side of the sheugh
I stayed charitable. She choose well.
This Irish was anchored, semi detached,
Suburban mister Jones. Lost to urbanisation!
Could not be seen to take city living.

Memories of short moments abound
But I feel now after four decades
The events have been embellished,
False memories have tainted and
Perhaps. We never walked a beach,
Nor never visited the Cavehill.
Not to mind, the memories fade.

Patrick Joseph Dorrien

I am a 66 year old man, married with 3 adult offspring. I am a retired teacher, ex union activist. I currently live in Belfast, under Napoleons Nose, better known as Cavehill. I have lived here for nearly 30 years.

Irish Writing :: Table of Contents, May 2017