JGHeraghty | Poetry

Happy August guys! This next one actually stemmed from something completely unrelated. I've been working within a small company for the past few months, and within that time I've learned a lot about myself and the people I like to have around me. One particular person is one of my colleagues. I don't have any specific attachment to her, but we share stories about life and the important, significant people and events in our lives. She's about 30 years my senior, but I feel like we're on the same level, with similar personalities. We recently had a conversation about Alzheimer's and an experience she had with a family member. She explained a scenario where someone she loved found themselves back to their childhood days and could no longer remember her for who she was. I know it's a horrible experience, and watching the tears whelm up in her eyes really relayed the effect it can have on family and friends. But while I sat with her, and while tears dropped

When studying the likes of Emily Dickinson or Sylvia Plath's poetry, one thing that could be easily identified in their sentences was the problem. They were sad inside, about what though? Inadequacy? Unrequited love? Fear of total neutrality? It's amazing how some one's pain makes them famous if they find the right words to explain it to the world. So that's where I got my idea. I faced a horrible situation in my life that really did have a major impact on everything that I lived to know: the loss of a very close friend. Friendship is one of the most beautiful things in life, in my opinion. It's a bond that can exist between two completely different people with completely separate norms and cultures, coming from completely different places in society. But the deterioration of a friendship is one of the most difficult things that a person, no matter what age they are, has to endure. Dedications do exist, but I do not intend to make them public. And when the day d

I had to post this one.. It was co-authored with a good friend of mine Aaron McSharry , a man of many talents. What was funny about this one, was that it was written during a lazy night over Facebook. And, as many of you would comment; we're not your average social network users! Additionally, I love that side to poetry. The side that gives you the opportunity not only to write poetry by yourself but with someone else. It makes it a whole lot funner and possibly even more entertaining. Imagination is key in this one.. It would be hardly right to conclude without mentioning, this one's in loving memory of Julie . Hungry and Confused I am hungry and confused, And very bemused.. By the lack of food I find in the fridge The food was all missing.. Out of the kitchen No one accused And Aaron was very very confused Julie had ate it And she did regret it As Aaron put her with the dust monster Into the lo