“As a writer you should not judge. You should understand.”, Ernest Hemingway.

For some, writing is cathartic and can offer a powerful outlet from stress and trauma. It is often a deep and personal presentation of a narrative, attempting to give meaning and understanding of closely held experiences and viewpoints. It can be everything and at the same time nothing.

Geralyn Mulqueen is an accomplished writer and her work has been published in magazines and online. In this section she shares some of her poetry and short stories.

Banner Image
  • – Untitled – April 1st 2008

    Clearest ponderings, spectres of old re-emerge in dream,
    Merging faces times places familiar,
    Yet alien now.
    Stepping beyond how and why?
    This knowledge or knowing surely it is,
    Felt within, not conferred, surely to,
    Integrate all aspects of self is the goal?
    Living – to live alive feeling breathing,
    Thinking connection interacting heart and mind.
    This familiarity unsettles me. I need to sit,
    In stillness,
    And wait.

  • – Untitled – August 9th 2013

    Vacant space vacated but remnant filled,
    Tableaux altered familiar speaking silently,
    Others have layered over over with their own perspective,
    Authentic self somehow remains intact.

    This cliff edge to the sea-scape walked,
    Always the familiar trodden path to find,
    Soft mother, nurturing, solace existent always,
    Evokes dream state realities felt at times beyond reach.

    Lost mother, mothers, mothering all too painful,
    This healing resolved, resolving a life’s journey,
    Now inward sourced, tentative, coveted and caressed,
    Felt in moments, silently… the seeds rooted at last.

  • – Untitled – December 16th 2015

    It is not with anger I now see the failings patterned past,
    It is not with sorrow my heart and soul are steeped,
    It is not of regret my sinews are filled and pour but,
    Into my Being now a calm clarity settles. Settling down,
    To a new space less solitary than whole filling with nourishment.
    Of recent the deepest grief has crippled yes but the bewilderment,
    Morphed into piecing, peacemaking making sense of each isolated,
    Memory , taste, experience, deceit, untruth, distraction, torture, lie,
    Melded seamlessly no seemingly with love, tenderness, lovemaking, longing.
    This dis-ease has engulfed, intoxicated, poisoned, reeled away, reeled in,
    And out, out of control, out of sync with love, life, good, sincere, living.
    Leaving space, living space, spatial uncluttered, uncompromising, unclear,
    Momentum but movement at least. To think, we thought, I thought,
    It could be bettered, overcome, killed, controlled, was motivation enough,
    But enough, now enough, let go, letting go, letting be.
    Be awhile awake, aware and thankful now to be, loving you still.