Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Belfast...

Early mornings of Belfast…The moisture in the air that mixed with my sweat as I jogged down Malone Road, past the gas station…The hot shower and breakfast in the kitchen and the fights over milk in the fridge with Garret and Spiros…The clean fresh air that I breathed as I head down to work everyday at 8:30 from the university residence…

Afternoons of Belfast…Lunch in the Tea Room, with Ciaran, Una, Alex and Clair…The jokes….The cookie box and the money jar!...Cappuccino and buttered scone at the coffee shop down the road with Katja….

Going home after work….Grocery shopping as a team…making dinner…Eating in front of our TV in the living room…Watching horrible British soap opera on BBC…Kids playing soccer after dinner…Watching a movie on Garret’s laptop in the living room…Heading to the Botanic Inn for a pint of Guinness before everyone falls sleep….Watching the Irish band play County Down…Heading back in a flock of drunken kids….and again early mornings of Belfast…

Weekends of Belfast…Walking along the peace line….Murals of Belfast…..Wars of Belfast and the grim history…Quiet downtown of Belfast…The big blue fish at the water front…The Cave Hill of Belfast…The buses, trains and plains and trips in and out of Belfast…

Love affairs of Belfast….Miranda and Garret, Shannon and George, Megan and Spiros, Andrew and Annie and of course us….Breakups of Belfast…Goodbyes of Belfast….and memories of Belfast…

Deep inside my soul fights a war
I can't explain, I can't cross over any more

Look outside, summer's lost and gone
It's a long walk on a street of right and wrong
In every inch of sadness
Rocks and tanks go hand in hand with madness
But I never saw a braver place, Belfast

And it's sad when they sing, and hollow ears listen
Of smoking black roses, on the streets of Belfast
And so say your lovers from under the flowers
Every foot of this world needs an inch of Belfast

The enemy is not at home
A jealous green streaks down this faulty diamond
No bloody boots or crucifix
Can ever hope to split this emerald island
But I never saw a braver face, Belfast

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