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Rob O'Driscoll |
Gentleman, philosopher, raconteur, bon vivant, guru, shaman, Bohemian, eminence grise are all words and phrases that Mr. O’Driscoll struggles to spell. He has been writing since he was so young that now, 34 years later, his pen has run out. Mancunian by trade he claims to have been influenced by Donne, Blake, Joyce, Kafka and Manley Hopkins. Culturally he finds Trotsky, Francoise Hardy, Scott Walker, Jung and Chorlton and The Wheelies agreeable. For reasons unbeknownst to all but his Gods he became an English teacher. FACT: When he was young Mr O’D. was so lonely he invented two imaginary mice, namely Egg and Bacon, to be his friends. They no longer keep in touch.
Daedalus
I serve myself, my art and others
in that way
That what they speak is
all I say
…And I can spin the Golden Thread.
You come to me with need of lies.
I do not ask-
But find the answer out of logic-
Set my master to his task
…Even turn the virgin’s head.
For you I made the labyrinth
to put your shame;
The horror on which you could not look.
Ingenuity is my name
…Hand on hand see where you’re lead.
All this came from my last device.
(I also serve.)
Whoever cares enough to ask.
You get the servant you deserve
…That hides the ruler’s faithless bed.
And then you plead and beg
And say
“Daedalus, break the maze
Show the way.”
My analytic mind, I find,
(Despite the fact
My work is gone and you exposed.)
Goes into overdrive.
For I only care about my art
and not your plot.
You would not ask me what you do
had I morals as a stop
…I only spin the Golden Thread.
Looking For The Fire
Stars are superfluous tonight
Above the show of man-made sparkles
That dance for our desire.
You wished to see a fire;
I wished to discover one
Between us;
I had not thought to inhabit metaphor:
Not thought to think that way before.
Had it been just we two
Perhaps the park, the night, the sounds
Would have been curiously romantic…
The beautifully-tended grounds.
As it was I felt even less,
Less than the image I was trying to impress.
I have a strange idea of you
Unrelated to reality.
I pick the parts I want, discard the rest.
I try to imagine how you see me…
… … … … …
We went because you felt the cold.
I tried to spark conversation-
But you were lost, tired-
Tonight all hope of fire expired.