Whitehouse Poetry Reading as Guest Poet.

Christy O'Donnell ,Whitehouse Poetry Reading Video as Guest Poet .

The Poster from my Poetry Open Mic Night as Guest Poet .

Christy O’Donnell

Nov.23rd @ 9pm.

Christy O’Donnell was born and raised in a family of thirteen in Limerick City’s Northside.”Growing up we were never encouraged to write at all, instead we were expected to go into the workplace as soon as we finished school. Christy likes to write rhyming poetry that has some humour in it but which is also true to life with an emphasis on the punch line. Writing is both for pleasure and the need to deal with human pain on a daily basis and has found that Kilkee is a good place to “chill“and to gather one’s thoughts for a poem or a short story. “The Irish do love a good story”. Christy is currently working on a humour filled book of Poetry which is set for release in 2012.

Please Check out more of my Poetry Reading Videos .

Check out my Poetry  Channel on You Tube

Christy O'Donnell ,Guest Poet at the Whitehouse Poetry Night.

http://youtu.be/u82NuUQBenI

good to bad

aaaahhh memories of a mispent childhood

A good deed gone bad.


There used to be a little hiding place near our front door,

It was used by all courting couples when times were poor,

When boys would walk their girlfriend’s home from the dance,

They’d hide in there both getting hot and taking the odd chance,

I heard many a row from parents when girls were found there,

Blamed for throwing themselves to wild abandon with no fear,

All the young kids knew where to go for goodnight kiss,

We would pass em out not knowing something was amiss.

A few times a year the odd girl went missing from our street,

She’s gone to help her auntie, who has been on a retreat,

This was all we ever heard as we were too young to realize,

The fact that they got pregnant right before passing eyes,

Always it seemed it had to be the boy who was to blame,

No matter what was said the boy was put to shame,

The girl was always taken advantage of poor thing,

And her parents would usually make him buy a wedding ring,

Never heard of a child being born out of wed lock,

Nor did I hear of rampant men running amok,

But there was the rare loose woman, who was talked about,

No one spoke her name they held tight lips on their mouth,

But this corner near our front door was a good place for nookie,

Even I knew that and I was as yet still a rookie,

So I sat and watched as the couples made out,

And if I saw one of the sisters I’d let go with a shout,

Then they started to pay me not to dampen their ardour,

To keep quiet so they could try to push things farther,

But there is always one who refuses to cough up,

And sent me packing calling me a cos and a pup,

So one night as she went in for her hug with her man,

I went up on the wall with a watering can,

I waited there for her and her man to arrive,

And when they were kissing I drowned both of em alive,

As he climbed the wall to give me merry hell,

Down the other side of the damn thing I fell,

My scream was heard in the house, by the father,

He came running to see why his daughter was in lather,

I drowned them I said from the far side of the wall,

Her virginity is intact it was me who had the fall.

Come out here he said I’m going to kill you stone dead,

Tonight was the night he was to ask her to get wed.

13/12/2011

new stuff from this weeks reading ha hope ya like it

Santa me arse,

Well it’s that time of year again and I’m a little miffed,

At the amount of so called friends that are expecting a gift,

They seem to be excited that it is the season of good will,

Where we all have to be nice to each other well I’ve had my fill,

I’ve worked hard all year and tried to make some cash,

And now my so called pals all want to give my savings a bash,

They call each day to say hello and is there anything I need,

Even then it’s become a chore as now them I have to feed,

She is in the kitchen saying he cooks a lovely Christmas dinner,

Yet on our annual trip to mass she says confess to being a sinner,

And all the bad things you have done throughout this year,

Will be forgotten and see your conscience clear,

Well I’ve had it with this so called x-mas good will to all men,

And sending cards to people I’ve not seen in years maybe 10,

Then spending all day long putting up the lights and a tree,

As far as I can gather there is nothing in this season for me,

But it’s my fault 4 not removing batteries from something,

And while it was in the attic all year I didn’t hear it sing,

Flowers must be bought from the local florist,

And wrapping paper enough to kill a small rainforest,

And who must sit there and do the wrapping of the presents,

Yes me, and I can tell you it isn’t very pleasant,

And who gets all the credit while living in the North Pole,

Some fat git dressed in a red suit sat there on his hole,

He even gets milk and stuff left out for him on the night,

But after six pints it’s me who has to drink the shite,

And stagger round the house putting things inside the socks,

While trying to get to bed and tripping over building blocks,

So to hell with Santa and his reindeer and his sleigh,

Say thank you dad cos I bought you all this crap you see today

And while you’re at it opening gifts with smiling faces looking,

The real Santa is in the kitchen tied to damn turkey and cooking.

There are times I’d like to nail that Santa to a wall,

But hey it’s Christmas so god bless you one and all.

09 Dec. 11

First insurance lesson,


I learned very early in life how to claim from insurance’s,

I didn’t know it then but it was to be one of life’s assurances,

Having come out from school at Hassett’s cross,

Each boy jostling for position trying to be the boss,

There had been a crash and a car had been turned on its roof,

There was guards standing watching it all aloof,

As we passed it on our way home from school it was smashed,

Left there on its roof all mangled and crashed,

Passengers all taken to hospital sirens all blazing,

And us young boys stood there gawping it was amazing,

There weren’t many cars about back in that time,

Posh people owned them we had horses it suited us fine,

A few men had gathered and were discussing the event,

The talk was of insurance and the driver’s intent,

And how the car could be fixed and what it might cost,

Either way the driver in court would be lost,

He’d be better off one said if it was all burned to hell,

That way the insurance company could never blame or tell,

Who was to blame for this almighty disaster?

While the occupants were likely to end up in plaster,

In any case everyone felt sorry for this man,

And someone should do something to help if they can,

So late that evening as the guards went away,

With a box of matches to the car we did stray,

And lit the smashed car and blew it up in smoke,

We laughed as we ran to us it was no joke,

But scorched we got all in strange places,

A few of us had burn marks on our faces,

In the station we denied all thoughts of burning this car,

Saying there was a guard watching it sure he wasn’t too far,

It must have been waiting to spark and take light,

We got scorched and it gave us a huge fright,

It was lucky that guard was well out of its way,

Or we might all be going to his funeral this day,

And rather then charge 5 of us with burning this car,

They questioned the guard, who should have been near not far,

The owner came to knock on our door’s late one night,

His insurance paid out, I’m still not sure if we were wrong or right.

10 Dec. 11

bloody government

not sure if i like these but i wrote em anyway see what you think?


Water boy.


Get away from our water ya lousy ould git,

Cos yer pipes are leaking and you don’t want to get wet,

Just cos it’s cheaper to pump ours from the Shannon river,

Is it too cold in Dublin and fixing hands might shiver,

It’s water from limerick that can fix all that you seek,

Fix you’re on damn pipes go and find the leaks,

If you need water from limerick to help with you’re plight,

Take what’s left after we clean up from the shite,

We are sick of hearing how this country just fell,

Stay up in Dublin and get wet as well,

I don’t understand just why you can’t try,

If it’s water you need take a look towards the sky,

But no you’ll take our water your pipes to feed,

While they still leak you want us to pay you for the deed,

Now I know ye think we are all mad in the west,

But this is a very foolhardy quest,

If ye have yare ways then rather then fix the odd pipe,

It is much preferred to put up with all of the hype,

This is a country that has more rain any one I know,

Yet ye want water and can’t find someplace else to go,

And the governing body of Ireland reside in this place,

Is there any one of them still a part of the human race?

But let’s face it there used to be 32 counties in this land,

Six are slowly coming back which is grand,

And the other 25 don’t matter whatsoever at all,

Just as long as their good old Dublin doesn’t fall,

And fall it will I hope, amid all of the hype,

Straight into the Irish sea through a leaky old pipe,

And who will they blame when Dublin is gone and lost,

The 25 counties that don’t matter will have to pay the cost,

Either way they always find something for us to pay,

I’d hand over my lot if that mob in Dublin would just go away,

I think the pipes in Dublin are just like our lot in the Dail,

Leaking money to the banks like a sieve helping us fall,

In all the years the governments and their pipes were leaking,

In Dublin it appears there is no water keeping,

Keep on if you want to fight we’ll oblige in a jiffy,

But if you’re desperate for water take it out of the Liffy,

24 Nov. 11

Budget 2012


So they’ve come out with it at long last,

A budget to beat all that has gone before and passed,

The people we entrusted our country to save,

Have driven us further back then the African slaves,

While they’re all shouting about who’s to blame for what,

Every home in the country has less food in their pot,

It’s still the same old story of how the rich behave,

While the less well off have nothing to save,

The usual suspects are who we have to thank,

The same old cronies who now own the banks,

They are driving the average person off the road,

No job in delivery now they can’t afford to carry any load,

If you’re an invalid and just happen to be young,

Postpone your illness till you’re older or dead and gone,

I am sad to say this country is not worth living in at all,

Unless you have a room up in Dublin in the Dail,

They say it has to be done they don’t have a choice,

Did they not hear any one in Ireland give voice?

Thousands Enda wants to give one of the lads a nice raise,

Who will he blame when the country is ablaze?

All their promises made to have them elected,

Are now null and void until the money is collected,

Like a jester in the court of King Henry the eight,

Tax everything but close all the gates,

And if anyone knocks and wants to come work in the Dail,

If they’re not friend or family they have no hope at all,

Hang on it’s the first day after the budget was called,

That thing about invalidity has just been stalled,

Oh yes now the whole country can sigh in relief,

A morsel of sense from our guardian chief,

Clever old sod is this Enda Kenny,

It’s paused until he can find a new way to grab the pennies,

With not a single job worth having in the country this day,

Might be a good idea to emigrate and all go away,

Head out across the globe in search of new lives,

Let the missus stay home and claim deserted wives,

And do what most do when in foreign lands,

With her book and what we send home she’ll be grand,

For democracy and freedom in 1916 there was a fight,

In 2013 there looks like being another, to put things right.

7 December 2011

whitehouse bar reading

for anyone who would like to hear me reading this poetry i suggest you visit this link for a laugh and good fun

http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Du82NuUQBenI%26feature%3Dshare&h=-AQFm0a5oAQE_0fLi7tAAN62sYyjcKjuZ-OjP75O5d6HsHw

golden child

Golden child


The mother’s ear was all important in our house,

And with 15 of us there wasn’t room for a mouse,

In shifts one after the other I was number eight,

Yet we were always fed and dare you be late,

The girls and one brother numbered just seven,

He was number six and she said he came from heaven,

Nothing or no one could touch her golden boy,

By the time I came along it wasn’t worth a try,

For all things he had he held his mothers ear,

What he said was law he lived without fear,

So I took it upon myself to undo this wrong,

I didn’t care if I was the weakling and him holding strong,

First born son after six tries the father would say,

And he too held him in favour I was left to stray,

Yet he had a devious way with all that he had,

But as I worked on my plan to usurp him I was only too glad,

Behind the parents back we called him golden balls,

Whenever he wanted something he just calls,

For years I tried as a child to hold the mothers ear,

But he was firmly planted within this much was clear,

If he did something wrong and he was sure to be found out,

He just blamed the rest of us and we would get the clout,

All was going well for him until puberty came around,

His interest in the female sex saw him losing ground,

All my efforts to take him down a peg were seemingly in vain,

His interest in the fairer sex were the ones to blame,

No woman or girl would ever smile upon his face,

Never mind that she may be dressed in silk and lace,

Her golden balls would not sit at any table for a feast,

He was to go to college and serve his god a priest,

And if this was not to be and her plan fall flat and fail,

It was off to the Christian brothers there for him to hail,

With him holding the mothers ear closely and in trust,

She might have looked harder at the girl with a huge bust,

For all her time and wishes flew straight out the door,

One look from him to the busty girl had him wanting more,

All her hopes and wishes had turned into a bed of fears,

Although he had her ear it ended all in tears,

He married said busty girl and heeded none of her calls

In all the time he had her ear his wife now had his balls.

14 Nov. 11