Christy O'Donnell. all kinds of Humour in Poetry.
Monday 30 July 2012
my mothers house and i thank that man
heres two i read last week in the open mike in the whitehouse bar limerick hope ya like em
My mother’s house
It never happened in my mother’s house,
She wouldn’t allow it not even for a mouse,
All the rooms were tidy and everything was in its own place,
Every child was shiny and had a nice clean face,
All the meals were on time and there was plenty there to eat,
Feeding 15 people was truly no easy feat,
And all the beds were single ones made up as we all arose,
For breakfast we sat each side of the table in two neat tidy rows,
No morsel of food ever hit her clean and shining floor,
No hinge ever creaked in her house from any kind of door,
The fire was always lit and in winter kept us warm,
No draft from open window which could be of any harm,
The cupboard was full and we never went without,
The sun was always shining whenever we went out,
None of us got ill and we never knew any pain,
All our summers were fun and we never saw the rain,
Our clothes were always washed and ironed laid on our bed,
Each of us had 2 fluffy pillows underneath our head,
Christmas we had presents and a huge pine needle tree,
So much so that we gave the poor some gifts for free,
Our lights shone so bright it lit the nigh time sky,
Some pilots got confused by it but soon learned to pass it by,
There were flowers in the garden and apple trees out the back,
My mothers house had everything nothing did we lack,
Life was always cosy we neither had a worry or a care,
We never had to look for things for they were always there,
No rodent ever came to live unless he had her permission,
Outside in the garden they would await for her decision,
But it was her house and she had the final say,
Everything was cool for her it was her house her rules her way,
She kept us all together all through the good times and the bad,
And mostly we were poor but we were grateful for what we had,
As kids we all would ask her where do you live dear mother,
Above would be the story the truth was something other,
24.07.2012
I thank that man.
We went to school together as most kids often do,
We have known each other for years and then we grew,
Through teenage years we drifted in and out,
We didn’t know what life was all about,
But we muddled through it because it was all we had,
In hard times and good ones of friends we were glad,
As in most childhood friendships we parted for years,
It was natural progression no fighting no tears,
For years we would meet and hardly if ever talk,
Yet we knew each other before we could walk,
We were never that close that anyone could tell,
But we tried to live wishing everyone well,
Both go getters what we wanted we strived to get,
In doing so though stressed we try not to fret,
Oh it used to be all the girls hung out by the green,
We lads down the road watching could be seen,
As far as friendships go it was neither great nor was it bad,
I chased some girl but she had her eye fixed firmly on one lad,
And as time went by and we played out our life,
Her future was sealed her lad would make her his wife,
Married they were and remain so to this day,
The only man for her and hers he will stay,
Years went by and with family now reared,
I turned to poetry and we met again it seemed weird,
We are friends again and get along really great,
Stories of family and kids and her lad, now her life mate,
It’s poetry I said and you have to be dead to be famous,
Who cares she replied but I still have my Seamus,
When called to the mike her poetry to recite,
My thanks go to Seamus with all of my might,
We share the same name (O’Donnell) him husband me friend,
She’s turned into a fun lunatic, to whom I often lend a hand,
But thank god we never got close it has to be said,
For if we had been married then one of us would surely be dead,
So thank you Seamus for keeping yer lives so intact,
There’s not many can keep up with you Sheila that’s a fact,
But don’t ever change what you do day to day,
Our world without you in it would be a darker place to stay,
When you call it’s always fun and truly it is real,
Even if I was stabbed by your car while fixing your wheel.
17 Jul. 12
My mother’s house
It never happened in my mother’s house,
She wouldn’t allow it not even for a mouse,
All the rooms were tidy and everything was in its own place,
Every child was shiny and had a nice clean face,
All the meals were on time and there was plenty there to eat,
Feeding 15 people was truly no easy feat,
And all the beds were single ones made up as we all arose,
For breakfast we sat each side of the table in two neat tidy rows,
No morsel of food ever hit her clean and shining floor,
No hinge ever creaked in her house from any kind of door,
The fire was always lit and in winter kept us warm,
No draft from open window which could be of any harm,
The cupboard was full and we never went without,
The sun was always shining whenever we went out,
None of us got ill and we never knew any pain,
All our summers were fun and we never saw the rain,
Our clothes were always washed and ironed laid on our bed,
Each of us had 2 fluffy pillows underneath our head,
Christmas we had presents and a huge pine needle tree,
So much so that we gave the poor some gifts for free,
Our lights shone so bright it lit the nigh time sky,
Some pilots got confused by it but soon learned to pass it by,
There were flowers in the garden and apple trees out the back,
My mothers house had everything nothing did we lack,
Life was always cosy we neither had a worry or a care,
We never had to look for things for they were always there,
No rodent ever came to live unless he had her permission,
Outside in the garden they would await for her decision,
But it was her house and she had the final say,
Everything was cool for her it was her house her rules her way,
She kept us all together all through the good times and the bad,
And mostly we were poor but we were grateful for what we had,
As kids we all would ask her where do you live dear mother,
Above would be the story the truth was something other,
24.07.2012
I thank that man.
We went to school together as most kids often do,
We have known each other for years and then we grew,
Through teenage years we drifted in and out,
We didn’t know what life was all about,
But we muddled through it because it was all we had,
In hard times and good ones of friends we were glad,
As in most childhood friendships we parted for years,
It was natural progression no fighting no tears,
For years we would meet and hardly if ever talk,
Yet we knew each other before we could walk,
We were never that close that anyone could tell,
But we tried to live wishing everyone well,
Both go getters what we wanted we strived to get,
In doing so though stressed we try not to fret,
Oh it used to be all the girls hung out by the green,
We lads down the road watching could be seen,
As far as friendships go it was neither great nor was it bad,
I chased some girl but she had her eye fixed firmly on one lad,
And as time went by and we played out our life,
Her future was sealed her lad would make her his wife,
Married they were and remain so to this day,
The only man for her and hers he will stay,
Years went by and with family now reared,
I turned to poetry and we met again it seemed weird,
We are friends again and get along really great,
Stories of family and kids and her lad, now her life mate,
It’s poetry I said and you have to be dead to be famous,
Who cares she replied but I still have my Seamus,
When called to the mike her poetry to recite,
My thanks go to Seamus with all of my might,
We share the same name (O’Donnell) him husband me friend,
She’s turned into a fun lunatic, to whom I often lend a hand,
But thank god we never got close it has to be said,
For if we had been married then one of us would surely be dead,
So thank you Seamus for keeping yer lives so intact,
There’s not many can keep up with you Sheila that’s a fact,
But don’t ever change what you do day to day,
Our world without you in it would be a darker place to stay,
When you call it’s always fun and truly it is real,
Even if I was stabbed by your car while fixing your wheel.
17 Jul. 12
Monday 23 July 2012
almost left and the hospital visit
these are wrote after visiting hospitals for a long period in the last 2 months hope you like em .
Almost left
Oh I’m in the crowd amongst the group,
I’m in the know part of the loop,
I get to hear things that are going on,
I’m special I am the only one,
I’m in the audience sat on my seat,
I got here using both of my feet,
I gaze at the stage at the performing arts,
I’m in awe of the actors taking all those parts,
I’m stood right there at the side of the road,
Watching drivers haul their heavy load,
I’m in the window looking down on the street,
I see people shake hands as they greet,
I am walking along by day and by night,
I am unseen yet I do feel alright,
Come to think of it I feel nothing at all,
Even when I had that big fall,
I seemed to land firmly on the ground,
I was confused until something I found,
It was like a light coming on in my head,
I couldn’t figure out if I was alive or dead,
For no one saw me as I went to these places,
Not for me were those smiling faces,
Yet I felt I was there living in the crowd,
When I spoke no word nothing aloud,
Then I tried to recall where I lived and with whom,
And in what place I slept in whose house or room,
All I can see is a bright shining light,
People I know saying don’t give up please fight,
Then all of a sudden unmerciful pain,
I am in a bed this much is quite plain,
That light I saw is now shining in my face,
I recall now just what it is this place,
I was hit by a car as I crossed over the road,
The driver was careless over who he had rode,
There I was facing death on the brink,
Was it his mobile phone thoughtless unable to think,
Almost ending my life and sealing my fate,
If your driving then drive all other things can wait.
Hospital visit
On a visit to the hospital to see on old comrade in arms,
I thought to visit and listen as he voiced some of his charms,
His health was in bad shape but you just couldn’t tell,
If he was going to get worse or would he be well,
But I found him asleep as he lay in that hospital bed,
I woke him gently and he raised his weary head,
His operation went well and he retold it like a thriller,
Enthralled by his attitude towards the silent killer,
I am ready to face all things that come along my way,
And I’ll face my maker at anytime whether it is night or day,
I could just lay here and moan and be bitter,
But in all my time on earth I was never a sitter,
The missus and I sat and made out my last will,
And thanks be to god I remain alive still,
He goes on about his operation like it was a trivial thing,
Thanking, doctors and nurses and the cleaners for everything,
Though his humour and jokes were at first seen as a wall,
Put up by most just before they had a fall,
It soon became clear they were part of this man,
Who was dealing with his ailment like only he can?
As my time was near ending with my visit to this friend,
I got the impression nothing would shake him even his end,
For he has a firm belief in all things happen for a reason,
As he heads to old age and a brighter fuller season,
His missus he says runs everywhere and won’t be heard moan,
So why should he lay there and in pain groan,
If she can put up with me in my sorry state,
It’s a credit to her she’s been more then my best mate,
Bless you for your optimism may your future be bright,
I pray that god and yourself win the good fight,
Should I ever be unwell and things don’t look bright,
I’ll remember you sir and recall how to fight,
May the years ahead be joyous and happy as onwards you go?
You are inspiring to one and all that you know,
The difference between an optimist and a pessimist is plain,
When its life or death we alone choose the game,
And how we play it so that all can do it without a fuss,
You’re winning your fight and we are glad you are here with us.
30/06/12
Almost left
Oh I’m in the crowd amongst the group,
I’m in the know part of the loop,
I get to hear things that are going on,
I’m special I am the only one,
I’m in the audience sat on my seat,
I got here using both of my feet,
I gaze at the stage at the performing arts,
I’m in awe of the actors taking all those parts,
I’m stood right there at the side of the road,
Watching drivers haul their heavy load,
I’m in the window looking down on the street,
I see people shake hands as they greet,
I am walking along by day and by night,
I am unseen yet I do feel alright,
Come to think of it I feel nothing at all,
Even when I had that big fall,
I seemed to land firmly on the ground,
I was confused until something I found,
It was like a light coming on in my head,
I couldn’t figure out if I was alive or dead,
For no one saw me as I went to these places,
Not for me were those smiling faces,
Yet I felt I was there living in the crowd,
When I spoke no word nothing aloud,
Then I tried to recall where I lived and with whom,
And in what place I slept in whose house or room,
All I can see is a bright shining light,
People I know saying don’t give up please fight,
Then all of a sudden unmerciful pain,
I am in a bed this much is quite plain,
That light I saw is now shining in my face,
I recall now just what it is this place,
I was hit by a car as I crossed over the road,
The driver was careless over who he had rode,
There I was facing death on the brink,
Was it his mobile phone thoughtless unable to think,
Almost ending my life and sealing my fate,
If your driving then drive all other things can wait.
Hospital visit
On a visit to the hospital to see on old comrade in arms,
I thought to visit and listen as he voiced some of his charms,
His health was in bad shape but you just couldn’t tell,
If he was going to get worse or would he be well,
But I found him asleep as he lay in that hospital bed,
I woke him gently and he raised his weary head,
His operation went well and he retold it like a thriller,
Enthralled by his attitude towards the silent killer,
I am ready to face all things that come along my way,
And I’ll face my maker at anytime whether it is night or day,
I could just lay here and moan and be bitter,
But in all my time on earth I was never a sitter,
The missus and I sat and made out my last will,
And thanks be to god I remain alive still,
He goes on about his operation like it was a trivial thing,
Thanking, doctors and nurses and the cleaners for everything,
Though his humour and jokes were at first seen as a wall,
Put up by most just before they had a fall,
It soon became clear they were part of this man,
Who was dealing with his ailment like only he can?
As my time was near ending with my visit to this friend,
I got the impression nothing would shake him even his end,
For he has a firm belief in all things happen for a reason,
As he heads to old age and a brighter fuller season,
His missus he says runs everywhere and won’t be heard moan,
So why should he lay there and in pain groan,
If she can put up with me in my sorry state,
It’s a credit to her she’s been more then my best mate,
Bless you for your optimism may your future be bright,
I pray that god and yourself win the good fight,
Should I ever be unwell and things don’t look bright,
I’ll remember you sir and recall how to fight,
May the years ahead be joyous and happy as onwards you go?
You are inspiring to one and all that you know,
The difference between an optimist and a pessimist is plain,
When its life or death we alone choose the game,
And how we play it so that all can do it without a fuss,
You’re winning your fight and we are glad you are here with us.
30/06/12
Monday 16 July 2012
some more stuff from yours truly
these two are from last week in ther whitehouse bar limerick 1 fun the other social ha ha see if you can figure out which is which
Mindless (mark twain)
To all the things I’ve lost I miss my mind the most,
In everything I did my mind it had played host,
Now every waking moment I can’t tell if it’s night or day,
The empty space between my ears where my mind used to lay,
It had a place for memory where I could just recall,
Now I search for ages my shouts on deaf ears fall,
It used to tell me daily, which direction I was to set off,
But I go round in circles now and all about me scoff,
I once would point my finger at an object way off far,
Then I’d look towards heaven and gaze upon a shooting star,
Of all the things I miss the most I think I miss my mind,
Or at least I would if I could ask it I live in hope to find,
I could put a poster in the morning paper every day,
Asking my mind to please come back and reside with me stay,
But would that not imply that my mind had not yet left,
I would have to print that I am the victim of a theft,
Yet there’s nothing left behind in the space where it had been,
I’ve looked deep inside my head there’s nothing to be seen,
It’s gone with all good thoughts and resting somewhere new,
Should you see it wandering by please send me on a clue?
Through all the things I’ve done it’s my mind that’s paid the cost,
The good times and the bad are something that I’ve lost,
I sit down at the table waiting for my grub,
And soon I realize that I’m sitting in the pub,
Something seems familiar as I sit within this place,
I gaze into the mirror and see a weary face,
This is the face of someone who’s lost his mind,
Weary from the search for the one thing he cannot find,
Worried about the future and where he goes from here,
All seems so normal but it is not it soon appears,
To all the things I’ve lost I surely miss my mind the most,
The body I remain in to my life it has been host,
Though I appear quite healthy and I look really well,
Within this head is torment and a nightmare sent from hell,
If I should appear aimless as I wonder throughout the land,
I may have lost my mind but sure the rest of me is grand.
11 Jul. 12
The morning after.
(idea from a marti pellow song)
Sick of waking every morning to see a different face,
Tired of looking back and seeing someone else’s place,
Closing silent doors behind me strangers not to wake,
The long walk home is lonely as morning starts to break,
All night long I loved you whoever you may be,
The cold light of the morning and silently I am free,
One night love is easy as the music and lights are flowing,
Sober in the morning and one of us is quietly going,
You lie in your bed and pretend to be asleep,
Or I will lay in mine as out the door we creep,
Passing glances in a hallway or club or discothèque,
Free love without commitment you never have to check,
Lovers all night long we whisper into each others ear,
In the cold light of the morning leaving without that fear,
When I said I loved you I meant it on that through the night,
It was all held in a moment both knowing each others plight,
Now I find that I need you and you refuse my calls,
Lonely hearts and one night stand’s strange glances in the halls,
Should we meet again and wonder have we been here before,
Lonely hearts and one night stands there could be much more,
I will not leave you in the morning I’ll lay until you wake,
And pray that we might save a broken heart from aches,
Sick of leaving every morning before the breaking of the day,
Tired and alone while softly in your bed you lay,
I will wake and make the coffee while you pretend to sleep,
Put my number on your table you will find it there to keep,
When I see you in a hallway all smile’s and having fun,
You will know we are together and I am the one,
Or maybe I will just forget you as I walk away,
So tired of trying to find that special one to stay,
Morning after the one night stand we had the night before,
Was all just fleeting moments there would never be much more,
Who knows it’s recriminations of things that could have been,
Fleeting memories of a love so briefly if ever seen,
Why do we tend to fall so easy yet find it hard to break away?
The morning after a one night stand a silent exit or do you stay.
28-Jun-12
Mindless (mark twain)
To all the things I’ve lost I miss my mind the most,
In everything I did my mind it had played host,
Now every waking moment I can’t tell if it’s night or day,
The empty space between my ears where my mind used to lay,
It had a place for memory where I could just recall,
Now I search for ages my shouts on deaf ears fall,
It used to tell me daily, which direction I was to set off,
But I go round in circles now and all about me scoff,
I once would point my finger at an object way off far,
Then I’d look towards heaven and gaze upon a shooting star,
Of all the things I miss the most I think I miss my mind,
Or at least I would if I could ask it I live in hope to find,
I could put a poster in the morning paper every day,
Asking my mind to please come back and reside with me stay,
But would that not imply that my mind had not yet left,
I would have to print that I am the victim of a theft,
Yet there’s nothing left behind in the space where it had been,
I’ve looked deep inside my head there’s nothing to be seen,
It’s gone with all good thoughts and resting somewhere new,
Should you see it wandering by please send me on a clue?
Through all the things I’ve done it’s my mind that’s paid the cost,
The good times and the bad are something that I’ve lost,
I sit down at the table waiting for my grub,
And soon I realize that I’m sitting in the pub,
Something seems familiar as I sit within this place,
I gaze into the mirror and see a weary face,
This is the face of someone who’s lost his mind,
Weary from the search for the one thing he cannot find,
Worried about the future and where he goes from here,
All seems so normal but it is not it soon appears,
To all the things I’ve lost I surely miss my mind the most,
The body I remain in to my life it has been host,
Though I appear quite healthy and I look really well,
Within this head is torment and a nightmare sent from hell,
If I should appear aimless as I wonder throughout the land,
I may have lost my mind but sure the rest of me is grand.
11 Jul. 12
The morning after.
(idea from a marti pellow song)
Sick of waking every morning to see a different face,
Tired of looking back and seeing someone else’s place,
Closing silent doors behind me strangers not to wake,
The long walk home is lonely as morning starts to break,
All night long I loved you whoever you may be,
The cold light of the morning and silently I am free,
One night love is easy as the music and lights are flowing,
Sober in the morning and one of us is quietly going,
You lie in your bed and pretend to be asleep,
Or I will lay in mine as out the door we creep,
Passing glances in a hallway or club or discothèque,
Free love without commitment you never have to check,
Lovers all night long we whisper into each others ear,
In the cold light of the morning leaving without that fear,
When I said I loved you I meant it on that through the night,
It was all held in a moment both knowing each others plight,
Now I find that I need you and you refuse my calls,
Lonely hearts and one night stand’s strange glances in the halls,
Should we meet again and wonder have we been here before,
Lonely hearts and one night stands there could be much more,
I will not leave you in the morning I’ll lay until you wake,
And pray that we might save a broken heart from aches,
Sick of leaving every morning before the breaking of the day,
Tired and alone while softly in your bed you lay,
I will wake and make the coffee while you pretend to sleep,
Put my number on your table you will find it there to keep,
When I see you in a hallway all smile’s and having fun,
You will know we are together and I am the one,
Or maybe I will just forget you as I walk away,
So tired of trying to find that special one to stay,
Morning after the one night stand we had the night before,
Was all just fleeting moments there would never be much more,
Who knows it’s recriminations of things that could have been,
Fleeting memories of a love so briefly if ever seen,
Why do we tend to fall so easy yet find it hard to break away?
The morning after a one night stand a silent exit or do you stay.
28-Jun-12
Thursday 5 July 2012
just a little fun ha ha 4th july and the bitch left
no vodeo this time the poetry was packed making a nice change so ya just have to use eyes to read not ears to listen enjoy
The bitch left!
She’s out there you know running around,
God only knows what tramp she’s found,
And I’m chasing her to get her home,
She is not to be seen and I am all alone,
I’ll kill her, the filthy dirty ould tramp,
As it turns to dark and I fetch my lamp,
She was so good sat home on the chair,
And I looked lovingly as she sat right there,
But out she ran and away she went,
Leaving me alone to worry and rant,
If I find her I’ll kill her that’s the plan,
For no one would judge me no woman or man,
We even had a licence just herself and me,
And a happy twosome for the world to see,
We went everywhere as one little pair,
But soon as she could she was out of her chair,
What else can I do sit home and wait,
Perhaps I’ll hear the creaking of the gate,
And hope to god it’s her coming home,
So I no longer have to be on my own,
If I find her I’ll beat her that’s what I’ll do,
A slap in the arse with the heel of my shoe,
I will leave her for dead right on the floor,
That will teach her to run out the door,
There she is and look at that crowd,
I can hear her laughing her head out loud,
There are 3 of them chasing her now she needs help,
As we all meet together I grab her up with a yelp,
The thing you see is my bitch was in season,
And ran out the door so I lost all reason,
She’s home now and no she wasn’t beat,
But soon enough I think will be the patter of many feet,
05/07/2012
Confederate plot
It was on a Good Friday April 14th 1865,
Civil war was almost over it felt good to be alive,
A trip to ford’s theatre to watch our American cousin,
A stage full of actors the place was fairly buzzing,
Mary Todd was there sat beside her husband the president,
Happy as a couple as the attended this event,
At the intermission the bodyguard john parker left his post,
Headed to the nearby tavern for what he wanted most,
A drink with the footman and the coachman all stood at the bar,
Assignation plans put into place in the theatre not too far,
Up the stairs and down the corridor to the presidential box,
No bodyguard to stop him no need to pick the locks,
Having easily gained his entry to the outer room,
He wedged the outer door shut with the handle of a broom,
Through a hole in the inner wall he gazed upon his mark,
In the lane outside his horse tethered and was parked,
Creeping on his belly he slithered on the floor,
Put the gun to Abe’s head and the president would be no more,
Mary Todd left out a scream that her husband has been shot,
Henry Rathbone leaped to his feet to come to his chief’s aid,
But the assassin cut him deep as his escape he made,
Jumped from high his feet fell silent broke his leg upon the floor,
Panic fell within the hall as he hobbled out the door,
The man who held his horse got kicked right in his face,
Away into the night the assassin left that place,
The conspiracy now apparent the hunt for john Wilkes Booth,
While a country mourned a leader the army sought the truth,
He found a hideout in garrets farm close by Washington State,
Until he was surrounded union soldiers sealed his fate,
I will not be taken alive he said from his haven on the farm,
So they set the place on fire hoping to flush him from the barn,
A soldier named Boston Corbett had crept around the back,
As soon as Booth had made his move he shot him in the neck,
No more chasing no more hiding nowhere left to run,
John Wilkes Booth shot dead from the bullet of a union gun.
4-Jul-12
The bitch left!
She’s out there you know running around,
God only knows what tramp she’s found,
And I’m chasing her to get her home,
She is not to be seen and I am all alone,
I’ll kill her, the filthy dirty ould tramp,
As it turns to dark and I fetch my lamp,
She was so good sat home on the chair,
And I looked lovingly as she sat right there,
But out she ran and away she went,
Leaving me alone to worry and rant,
If I find her I’ll kill her that’s the plan,
For no one would judge me no woman or man,
We even had a licence just herself and me,
And a happy twosome for the world to see,
We went everywhere as one little pair,
But soon as she could she was out of her chair,
What else can I do sit home and wait,
Perhaps I’ll hear the creaking of the gate,
And hope to god it’s her coming home,
So I no longer have to be on my own,
If I find her I’ll beat her that’s what I’ll do,
A slap in the arse with the heel of my shoe,
I will leave her for dead right on the floor,
That will teach her to run out the door,
There she is and look at that crowd,
I can hear her laughing her head out loud,
There are 3 of them chasing her now she needs help,
As we all meet together I grab her up with a yelp,
The thing you see is my bitch was in season,
And ran out the door so I lost all reason,
She’s home now and no she wasn’t beat,
But soon enough I think will be the patter of many feet,
05/07/2012
Confederate plot
It was on a Good Friday April 14th 1865,
Civil war was almost over it felt good to be alive,
A trip to ford’s theatre to watch our American cousin,
A stage full of actors the place was fairly buzzing,
Mary Todd was there sat beside her husband the president,
Happy as a couple as the attended this event,
At the intermission the bodyguard john parker left his post,
Headed to the nearby tavern for what he wanted most,
A drink with the footman and the coachman all stood at the bar,
Assignation plans put into place in the theatre not too far,
Up the stairs and down the corridor to the presidential box,
No bodyguard to stop him no need to pick the locks,
Having easily gained his entry to the outer room,
He wedged the outer door shut with the handle of a broom,
Through a hole in the inner wall he gazed upon his mark,
In the lane outside his horse tethered and was parked,
Creeping on his belly he slithered on the floor,
Put the gun to Abe’s head and the president would be no more,
Mary Todd left out a scream that her husband has been shot,
Henry Rathbone leaped to his feet to come to his chief’s aid,
But the assassin cut him deep as his escape he made,
Jumped from high his feet fell silent broke his leg upon the floor,
Panic fell within the hall as he hobbled out the door,
The man who held his horse got kicked right in his face,
Away into the night the assassin left that place,
The conspiracy now apparent the hunt for john Wilkes Booth,
While a country mourned a leader the army sought the truth,
He found a hideout in garrets farm close by Washington State,
Until he was surrounded union soldiers sealed his fate,
I will not be taken alive he said from his haven on the farm,
So they set the place on fire hoping to flush him from the barn,
A soldier named Boston Corbett had crept around the back,
As soon as Booth had made his move he shot him in the neck,
No more chasing no more hiding nowhere left to run,
John Wilkes Booth shot dead from the bullet of a union gun.
4-Jul-12
Monday 2 July 2012
Sunday 1 July 2012
Christy O'Donnell ,Humour in Poetry.: the dish washer and the guilt trip more fun in poe...
Christy O'Donnell ,Humour in Poetry.: the dish washer and the guilt trip more fun in poe...: The Dish washer When supper was ready there was a race to the table, First to get there ate all they were able, And those who were sl...
the dish washer and the guilt trip more fun in poetry from years gone by ha ha
The Dish washer
When supper was ready there was a race to the table,
First to get there ate all they were able,
And those who were slow or hard of hearing,
Got there just as the mother was clearing,
Mugs and plates away to the sink,
There was nothing to eat but tea to drink,
And even that was cold and put in a jam jar,
If you had places to go it wouldn’t take you far,
There were no lazy kids in our house growing up,
We all raced to the table to get tea in a cup,
Usually there was no handle on its side,
Bloody thing was always too hot however we tried,
It burned and scalded our little tiny hands,
In summer it hurt but in winter it was grand,
Last to the table were destined to wash plates,
It was the youngest kid’s youth sealed their fates,
All the older ones were gone in a flash,
Bellies full out the door they’d dash,
Having ate all round them leaving little on the table,
We never gained weight in our house we weren’t able,
Now when supper is ready its ready on its own,
Parcelled into the oven or microwave alone,
There’s no call out the door to come in for yer tea,
No race to the table sat here only me,
There never seems to be a shortage of grub,
Less noise in the house you can eat in the pub,
But I still cook every day on the hob or in the oven,
No rushing or racing no pushing or shoving,
As I sit at my table I eat well but in a haze,
And long for the purpose and needy old days,
When if you were ever going to be late for your dinner,
You soon learned to be first in line making you a winner,
Our characters were built and we were always on guard,
It prepared us for life whose lessons were hard,
These days it’s easier for your kids and mine,
If they come to supper in my place they better be on time,
Because if by some chance they arrive here too late,
There will be none left to eat just a sink full of plates.
18 Jun. 12
The Guilt trip
Where are you off to she said as he heads for the door?
Back to the pub he replied to drink me some more,
Oh well now she screamed is this your intent,
You can drink in the pub but you have no cash for the rent,
Right you are then I’ll put your dinner neatly on your plate,
And I’ll place it on the oven top in case you are late,
There’s a recession on and there is no work to be had,
But go on to the pub and smile with the lads,
Sit in comfort and chat about how times sure are tough,
And when your done think of home when you’ve had enough,
As you stagger along thinking your mind is all clear,
Try to remember the clarity is clouded with beer,
Don’t start to sing me some of your sweet loving songs,
Or climb into bed and say you’d love to see me in a thong,
Like your dinner sat there on top of the oven,
Use it as it’s the only thing, into which you will be shoving,
Head off with you now will I open that door,
God help you sure you look like you could do with a few more,
For this is so hard a life in which you have spent,
To hell with it love you are more important then rent,
Tomorrow is a new day and though it may not be great,
We will help you out of your bed and deal with our fate,
In sharing this moment we should both be glad,
But you go ahead now spend time with the lads,
And should you awake and think you feel a bit rough,
Leave it to me sure I’ll tend to your stuff,
Such a hard life you have with the drinking more beer,
Before you head off now are you sure that your mind is clear,
I’ll sit home waiting for you rightly or wrong,
And when you hear last orders shouted I’ll take off this thong,
And burn it on the footpath beside our front gate,
And as you pass it take notice you will be forever too late,
Make your mind up as your dinner is still hot on the oven,
Is it the pub or staying home for some fun and warm loving?
It may have been a guilt trip as his jaw opened wide,
But to bed he was taken and her face filled with pride.
hope you enjoyed these i did lol
When supper was ready there was a race to the table,
First to get there ate all they were able,
And those who were slow or hard of hearing,
Got there just as the mother was clearing,
Mugs and plates away to the sink,
There was nothing to eat but tea to drink,
And even that was cold and put in a jam jar,
If you had places to go it wouldn’t take you far,
There were no lazy kids in our house growing up,
We all raced to the table to get tea in a cup,
Usually there was no handle on its side,
Bloody thing was always too hot however we tried,
It burned and scalded our little tiny hands,
In summer it hurt but in winter it was grand,
Last to the table were destined to wash plates,
It was the youngest kid’s youth sealed their fates,
All the older ones were gone in a flash,
Bellies full out the door they’d dash,
Having ate all round them leaving little on the table,
We never gained weight in our house we weren’t able,
Now when supper is ready its ready on its own,
Parcelled into the oven or microwave alone,
There’s no call out the door to come in for yer tea,
No race to the table sat here only me,
There never seems to be a shortage of grub,
Less noise in the house you can eat in the pub,
But I still cook every day on the hob or in the oven,
No rushing or racing no pushing or shoving,
As I sit at my table I eat well but in a haze,
And long for the purpose and needy old days,
When if you were ever going to be late for your dinner,
You soon learned to be first in line making you a winner,
Our characters were built and we were always on guard,
It prepared us for life whose lessons were hard,
These days it’s easier for your kids and mine,
If they come to supper in my place they better be on time,
Because if by some chance they arrive here too late,
There will be none left to eat just a sink full of plates.
18 Jun. 12
The Guilt trip
Where are you off to she said as he heads for the door?
Back to the pub he replied to drink me some more,
Oh well now she screamed is this your intent,
You can drink in the pub but you have no cash for the rent,
Right you are then I’ll put your dinner neatly on your plate,
And I’ll place it on the oven top in case you are late,
There’s a recession on and there is no work to be had,
But go on to the pub and smile with the lads,
Sit in comfort and chat about how times sure are tough,
And when your done think of home when you’ve had enough,
As you stagger along thinking your mind is all clear,
Try to remember the clarity is clouded with beer,
Don’t start to sing me some of your sweet loving songs,
Or climb into bed and say you’d love to see me in a thong,
Like your dinner sat there on top of the oven,
Use it as it’s the only thing, into which you will be shoving,
Head off with you now will I open that door,
God help you sure you look like you could do with a few more,
For this is so hard a life in which you have spent,
To hell with it love you are more important then rent,
Tomorrow is a new day and though it may not be great,
We will help you out of your bed and deal with our fate,
In sharing this moment we should both be glad,
But you go ahead now spend time with the lads,
And should you awake and think you feel a bit rough,
Leave it to me sure I’ll tend to your stuff,
Such a hard life you have with the drinking more beer,
Before you head off now are you sure that your mind is clear,
I’ll sit home waiting for you rightly or wrong,
And when you hear last orders shouted I’ll take off this thong,
And burn it on the footpath beside our front gate,
And as you pass it take notice you will be forever too late,
Make your mind up as your dinner is still hot on the oven,
Is it the pub or staying home for some fun and warm loving?
It may have been a guilt trip as his jaw opened wide,
But to bed he was taken and her face filled with pride.
hope you enjoyed these i did lol
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