I was around 10 and in primary school in Ireland, when I started writing creatively. Looking back on those years, I realize it was a combination of a creative mind, but also a way to temporarily escape from my surroundings. Life was tough – mentally and physically. The poems and short stories I created, gave my mind a different direction in which to wander. Writing, has always been my personal therapy.

Anyone who has been put down or beat down at home, knows the loneliness of that existence. It’s almost as if you are in solitary confinement in your own house. You have no choice, but to serve your time without any kind of advocate in your corner. You do your best to avoid eye contact with your jailers. One off-the-cuff, smart-arse remark can easily result in a fat lip.

As I got older, the writing took more of a back seat to life. It didn’t go away – it just lay dormant until I was ready to breathe life back into it. For the past couple of decades, I have concentrated more on article and manuscript writing. My first book to be published, a memoir about growing up in County Donegal, came out in October, 2016. Strangely, I also felt a strong pull around that time to return to my first love; poetry.

This is the first poem I felt inspired to write, in many years. I am looking forward to writing many more.


Alone Time

by J.P. Sexton

Thoughts drip

Forming rivers

In my mind

Like window pane



Demons demand

My time

Lurking, waiting

To strike without



The past

Has passed

But not gone



The future

Has them

They loom

Dark as plague



Drip, drip

They seep

Into my mind

And start