North of Stockdale

it is a noisy painting
brush strokes in a sunny
white rush of foam
water hitting
the rocks
inside an ugly frame
that tries to hold in the noise
like a child
pretending to scream at the
top of their lungs
behind glass
while not really making any
sound at all
and feeling their face
go red, realizing
they should have inhaled
and turned their
face blue.
The rush of the water waits
no one
the green pine dies on the rocks
and turns red-dead
boulders that were rolled down the
mountain side or
pulled with heavy jungle ropes
by animals that
no longer exist
dropped in the center of turbulence
hoping to slow
rush hour traffic
knowing it can do nothing
but be eaten away
and wish for stop lights
all synchronized and forever
on the word
but the painting stays
on the wall and is
it was hung with care
and the paint brush
was guided with
a controlled touch a
jailer who knew
how to let the prisoner
enjoy the sunlight
without taking advantage of
the situation
and both go home safely at
the end of the day
each in their own contained
knowing the wild fury inside
can not be stopped
-this wild painted river spotted
by the side of a local
and given 2nd life in a new
and sleeps only,
when eyes are not standing
before it all,
studying what the painter
was trying

About Crazy Irishman

Touted as a working man's poet, Martin Durkin has been writing professionally for the last 12 years. He has appeared in over twenty anthologies across North America, including, "And left a place to stand on", a collection of poems and essays about the late great Al Purdy. Durkin has also published two collections of poetry, "Hypnotic Childhood", and "The Sound of Quish". Over the past 4 years, Durkin has been on hiatus for the most part but has recently come back to the poetry scene creating a poetry site called, where in the past year he has written over 100 poems and created a cross over page on where he gives a story behind each of the pieces written. View all posts by Crazy Irishman

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