Stephen McGuinness


Staring At The Stars

Oscar said that it

was wasted

on the young.

Is youth

better vested in

the old man who

stares at the stars?

Imagine the damage

we could do if

energy, without innocence

is married to




The stars are dead

for us, old men

in the gutter.

The well travelled

pinpricks of light

that entertain our night

are ghosts haunting

the ancient black sky.

My memory

of childhood

has collapsed

to a point

of infinite density

a singularity

bending even light

inwards, trapping it there.

I feel gravity

drawing me towards

what I no longer see

mass affecting me

even at this

great distance.


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