Worker #311692011291913

At the departing hour, it was time for him to relinquish his heart.

But his life had been laid on the tablet before his dying days, before his youth.

Even before his birth, his sacrifice had been pre-established

by those devils in suits with their sighing leather briefcases.

*

With saddened masks they wept for this man,

Paid him a eulogy and shook hands with his loved ones.

But with a wicked smile, they danced their way to the bank.

Rest in peace good slave.


Stephen Riordan. (Circa 2013).

The Door

Upon the first discovery, as a child he received the sight.

The plight was unknown.

He entered into this God-forsaken world.

This magical truth of mystery and imagination.

*

Upon the second discovery, he as a young man believed it to be real.

The shifting shadows and dancing creatures half-seen mocked his attachment to his world.

It drove him half mad: contemplating worlds and ideas you could never imagine.

He searched for the door, but never could find it.

*

Upon the third discovery, as an old man the final nail was hammered into his coffin.

“It was real all along,” he exclaimed with piteous joy.

He knew it to be real.

He could now go and join the great festivities and enjoy life.

But he died.


Stephen Riordan. (Circa 2013).

Dust Bowl Sue

Sue grew up in a loving home, but she wanted to see the world.

The problem was she was surrounded by vast wastelands.

She often contemplated running away.

*

One night she packed as much food, equipment and water into her bag as she could.

As soon as her parents had fallen asleep she left on her journey.

The coolness of the night gave her comfort.

It eased her on her way.

*

But Sue had not thought about the sun.

As soon as the day broke the sun scorched her skin.

She saw nothing but dead lands ahead of her.

The dust blew in the wind.

It cut and blinded her.

*

She soon began to camp during the day to get out of the heat, and travelled by night.

After a few days, her food and water supplies were running low.

Heat and exhaustion had driven poor little Sue to near madness.

She saw things.

Evil things.

The devil tempted her with oases full of cool, sparkling water.

She saw her loved ones waving from afar.

Her flesh withered and her bones stiff, but onwards she staggered.

Her will was strong; she would not give up her soul.

*

But what of poor Sue now?

Is she nothing but dust?

Does her soul wander the wicked wastelands from which she could not escape?

Some say her cry can be heard in the howl of the winds.

Others say she’s feasting in a faraway land.

We’ll never really know what happened to Sue, or know the true extent of her nightmarish journey.


Stephen Riordan. (27/4/14).

A Dance With The Fay

A girl of little years was often overlooked by her parents.

She was a lonely soul, so one day she went down to the forest.

Among the trees and bushes, a merry folk of people appeared,

For the girl was mature in the field of the heart.

A much older man or woman might have walked past the sight.

But they invited her to dance, and so she did all day until the sun set.

And then she died.

*

Now, many a rumour has gone about surrounding the truth of her disappearance.

“Drowned in the river the poor thing,” some villagers would remark,

But only a day before they’d have barely batted an eyelash at the girl.

Some say she ran away.

Others to this day swear they’ve heard whispers in the forest without footsteps to match them.

But the truth remains is that she entered into the world of fairies,

And she was freed of the cruelty of humans with their constant bickering.

*

When old misers warn of the dangers of stumbling upon a fairy fort, they only have it half right.

One will only be cursed if one learns the ways of the fay and chooses to continue their life as a human.

The curse will be doubled if this human shares the information with another.

Of the cursèd, they experience lifelong misery and misfortune.

They also say never accept an invitation to dance with the dead or the fay.

What men have failed to share is the advantage of locating a fairy fort.

A human will be transformed into a fairy and given eternal life in the land of the fay.


Stephen Riordan. (1/3/13).

The Collapse

Each day, the cracks of the holy altar will become more apparent.

As the pillars of hope crumble and the ascension of spires desist,

these glorified places will lay themselves to rest.

Musk shall turn to the freshness of nature.

*

But what will become of these lands?

Will barbarians cause destruction,

or will communes of peace and unity prosper all over the world?


Stephen Riordan. (Circa 2013).

The Creation of The Problem

Humanity, what a pitiful race.

They feared themselves.

They feared the unknown.

They feared the recesses of their own minds.

They feared the alien creatures which they had never seen.

They created problems when there was no need; they had the solutions.

They questioned what need not have been questioned.

*

A mortal world created by humans saw its own self-destruction.

While they spent their time looking far for their problems,

They never saw what was beneath their feet: the immortality of nature.

*

As people return to the ground,

Machinery will malfunction.

Buildings and systems will collapse.

The roots of trees shall engulf and choke civilisation.

They shall take back their planet.


Stephen Riordan. (Circa 2013).

Saving Myself

I was a withered soul in a young body,

Weighed down by possessions.

A melancholic spirit possessed me.

I was unfit for this life, this world of capitalism.

I never understood the people around me or what was expected of me.

I was drunk on the illusion of reality.

Then a realisation came upon me.

The problem did not exist within me, but with society.

They say she’s uncontrollable, merciless at best.

But a hunger inhabited me; a longing that spread throughout my entire being.

It intensified until one day the lion within me awakened.

I was reborn.

*

I cut my ties with the past.

The destruction of civilisation was never so beautiful.

It crumbled as I plunged myself into the sea of salvation.

Nature became my home, my companion, my life.

I had nothing and yet I had gained much more.

I found forested communes of people like me.

They became my family.

When the wind roared the trees would whisper stories.

The rivers and streams surged with life.

We lived among the animals; they were our brothers and sisters.

We painted ourselves with colours of gold and green, blue and red.

We danced under the stars to the music of our spirits.

We ate and drank around the fire; the flames were ever burning.

Our hands were raised to the virtuous moon and the enveloping sun.

We celebrated life.

We lived.


Stephen Riordan. 5/3/13.