Owen 1970


You and all are wanderers
in the night where dragons prowl
and the unbelievable beasts
of undermind rage and growl
and hearts lurch in their beats
in fear of nothingness.

you have come out of emptiness,
you have come from yet-to-be
and the unimaginable naught;
finite in infinity,
you grope blindly for light
within a vaccum,

knowing not, in innocence,
unaware of cause or term
or the indeterminate end
of the indifferent or firm
who leap wildly to sieze
the hand that is not there.

Comments about Owen 1970

An interesting piece of work. I look forward to reading more.

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Other poems of ROCHE


Go now greenly into brown
and shed the dead outerness
serenely, as maid gown,
as life body, as cicada skin.

My Grandfather The Tailor

My grandfather the tailor was a stocky Ukrainian.
By day he worked in the sweat shops,
By evening cold chicken and tea.
A lump of sugar for him and one for me.

This Death Some Will Lament

This death
some will lament
remembering brief flames,
but to you,


oh come to me
my l' il honey lips
we'll sip the wine
and in between the sips

Love Of Owen Roche

I shall write you a song, little
you have thorns but you're my kind of flower
we'll go live in an ivory tower
and I'll make up a whole song for you