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Oisín Breen

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Member Since: Before 2003

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Featured Book
Finding Billy Battles:
by Ronald Yates

Finding Billy Battles is the sweeping story of a man whose deeds and misdeeds propel him on an extraordinary and perilous journey from the untamed American West of the 18..  
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Happiness
by Oisín Breen
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Oisín Breen
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           >> View all 80

Oh for a mercy killing and a damning verdict from the court.
Send me in the cart led by oxen down the gauntlet of screaming voyeurs.
Send me in the cart led by my own deeds, by my naked soul.
Oh for a mercy killing and I kneel my hair pulled up over my face and my neck bare.
I kneel, waiting for the sound of my own head falling.
One day I laughed then my head came off.

I thought about birds, three crows lolled in the sky before collapsing into the crowd.
They came to watch and take me with them
Three swans danced in the sky and with a scream they disappeared.
They came to show me where I am going.
Oh but for a mercy killing I would dance in the streets.
Oh but for that one thing wrong I would right everything
Oh I dream daffodil on an unopened gift, my arms stuck around the ribbons.

I thought about my family and they were all there.
Half-and-half they took their sides.
On my left waiting for the guillotine to do its work were two
On my right waiting for something to happen were two.
I thought about my family and they were there to watch me stop.

I thought about Westerns. I thought about heroes.
I thought it was funny that I remembered the three musketeers.
In the distance I swore I saw everyone from Robin Hood to old Chief Sittingbull.
They were always about two miles off riding in on Destry to save me.
They were always about two miles off trying to save me.

I thought about the birds and three crows lolled in the sky before screaming.
I listened to the crows screaming and they screamed void.

I thought about my family and they were all there.
I listened to my family and they were silent as the liquid air.

I thought about Westerns. I thought about heroes.
I looked on the crowd and smiled.
Oh for a mercy killing a damning verdict from the court.
They said sure no problem we’ll hang you this July.

The day was solstice and I was glad.
It was time to appreciate darkness.
Then I realised I was right.
The hangman asked, “any words to say?”
“Of course,” I said
My throat was dry.

I thought about words and I cried crow at the sun.
The startling day was a small dip in the ocean.
Then I started to say.
“Oh you, I do this for myself.
Freedom is worth dying for.
I die because I am a free man.
I die in my own mercy killing.
I am the only free man.
Laugh tonight.
Become my disciples.
I am the only free man, no one else and I.
I am the only free man desperate.
I will not consent.
I will not drown

I am the only free man and I will stare at the sun
I will weep autumn under the leaves of lotus trees.
I will scream from the pulpit, like a messiah.
I will scream dawn and voodoo and drum and awakenings and damnation and love and peace and action!
I am the screaming dove from the guillotine with one last piece to say and my piece is this.

Good morning you souls and you angels in drag.
Good morning you thieves and you my friend tradition
What is the reason, why this derision? I am free and I die free.
War is for dirt and money for power.
Why we need either, today it’s our own little hour, we can dance and dine and this is my funeral not yours.
Come on wine on me and let your sorrows a little more vigilance.
Good morning you souls and you angels in drag.
Don’t let your mind worry I’ll be gone in a flash.
Good morning my world and I wish you farewell
From this guillotine I laugh.
I am a free man and this is worth dying for.

Oh but for a mercy killing and that damning verdict from court I could have realised the strength of one being, even alone, even naked, even desperate, I could have realised it could have been right.
Send me in the cart led by oxen down the gauntlet of screaming voyeurs.
Send me in the cart led by my own deeds, by my naked soul.
Oh but for a mercy killing I would not have knelt, my hair pulled up over my face and my neck bare.
I knelt, waiting for the sound of my own head falling.
One day I laughed then my head came off.
One day my head rolled and I heard the sound of cheering.
One day my head lolled and I stared at the naked sky and it was pretty.

Copyright © 2004 Oisín Breen. No reprints or distribution of any kind sort in any form in this or any other known universe or dimension or medium without my express permission



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Reviewed by jude forese 3/31/2004
exceptional poetry!
Reviewed by Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie 3/31/2004
Wow..Extremely powerful and stunning, outstanding!

Reindeer
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 3/30/2004
A heads off, eyes wide open, hit!
Reviewed by Tinka Boukes 3/29/2004
Very powerful write Oisin!!

Love Tinka
Reviewed by Dale Clark 3/29/2004
Powerful indeed!

'One day my head lolled and I stared at
the naked sky and it was pretty'
What a line! ;)
Reviewed by Debashish Haar (Reader) 3/29/2004
POWERFUL poem, the seething rage and the brooding imagery is simply AMAZING...

Debashish
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