x-mas me arse lol :)

x-mas me arse

Dear Santa,

Write a letter they said, ask for something nice,

Ask for something real they said, be reasonable on the price,

So this young child sat down, and thought long and hard,

Looked in all the shops in town, wrote his little card,

Saved and bought a stamp, put it in the box marked letters,

Socks for dad and gramps, gifts for peers and betters,

Waited for your reply, watched the postman pass the house,

No answer did you write, you filthy, rotten louse,

Down the chimney you would come, and leave gifts for one and all,

Answered cards for some, but for me no reply at all,

Well here’s a little treat, as you ride your hefty sleigh,

Be careful with your feet, down my chimney on the day,

I will have the fire blazing, as you try your descent,

Your ignorant and brazen, for the letter I had sent,

I don’t need your Christmas joy, nor do my feet need new socks,

From childhood through to man and boy, I’ll roast your bloody rocks,

You take all the glory, it’s Santa this and that,

And it’s all from a flipping story, Christmas day for me is flat,

My kids won’t be writing letters, nor saving for a stamp,

They’ll buy for family and betters, you credit stealing tramp,

There’ll be no milk or cookies, no reindeer food left out,

In my house will be no rookies, they’ll know what your about,

They will know who worked all year, who bought all under my tree,

So don’t you have any fear, no credit here for free,

If you land upon my roof, and try my chimney pot,

I’ll make glue from Rudolf’s hoof, and roast your bloody lot,

On every card I write, I’ll put my blasted name,

Stay up on Christmas night, so you don’t get the fame,

Write a letter they said, ask for something nice,

I light the fire instead, everything has a price,

Baaaahhh humbug

Santa me arse,

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 FOR 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.

Midnight aint for the faint of heart

Midnight aint for the faint of heart

Oh midnight aint for the faint of heart,

In winter time, most of all,

It’s when demons tend, to rip worlds apart,

Landing on those, who are ready to fall,

For the faint of heart it’s not this time,

Not for those who tend to dwell,

Nor for them who think all’s just fine,

Demons come from both heaven and hell,

And good or bad, their question asked,

Do you sleep easy, late at night?

Your future deeds, and those long past,

Good or bad demons, choose ye right,

Should you gaze, your eyes wide shut,

And see the wrongs, you may have done,

A demon find you, in a rut,

A feeling hurt, a life undone,

A life once full, spread over the land,

No demon enter, thought or deed,

Happiness now, but a grain of sand,

Your demons now, arrived by greed,

Greed for money, fortune, fame,

All laid to waste, within your wake,

Both you and demon, share one name,

Gathering more, than you should take,

And hurt too many, along your way,

Left them broken, as you hurried on,

Your twisted smile, fools none today,

With your demon thoughts, you now belong

So midnight aint for the faint of heart,

Where demons come rip our thoughts apart,

In dead of night when they like to call,

Pray your right, love conquers all.

sentiment

Sentiment

(Christy and Pat O Donnell)

Yes, I am here, here where I’ve always been,

And yes, I have heard all said against me,

The hurt I feel, is something which will never be seen,

I would still help, because, this is me,

I saw life keep you in a state of frown,

Saw you struggle in, what next to do,

To any who’d listen, heard my name put down,

Silently, I remained to myself, true,

When needed I was there, no questions asked,

No job too little, or too much,

Completed all to which I was tasked,

While helping, being disliked as such,

I shall not lose myself, not for your gain,

I will continue to be me, it is who I am,

Never, have I set out to cause you pain,

I have fed you, hungry, simply because, I can,

For the good we do in life, we ought to persevere,

There will always be those, who harbor ill will,

They have their agenda, hiding behind things like fear,

Always moving they cannot stand still,

I shared my dinner at the kitchen table,

Helped you up when you were down,

I will not change, while I am still able,

Help all I can with smile not frown,

Don’t eat the food that I provide,

Don’t drink from, my water jar,

If you hold dislike and can’t abide,

Just keep your distance near or far.

"I've fed mouths that have talked shite about me.
I've wiped tears from the same people that have caused me pain. 
I've picked up people who have tried to knock me down. 
I've done favors for people who can do nothing for me. 
I've been there for people who have left me down badly,
but I will not lose myself in the hatred of others. 
I continue to be me, because I am who I am. 
Life isn’t easy but even through all the bullshit,
I'll still be here."

rip axel foley wrote this a while back

Munster titans

We are blessed here in our fair limerick city,

With the best rugby team along with poets that are witty,

Munster’s home of rugby is the new thomond park ground,

Where our newest treasure Keith Earls was found,

Like lightening from end to end he can be seen,

All with the support of our Munster team,

O’Gara with ball firmly planted in the old sod,

Conversion for sure with his boot sent from god,

Most teams arrive here but go home in a daze,

Having been rammed by Botha and our own bull john Hayes,

Flannery with a throw in straight and true,

Grasping hands and the ball is stuck like glue,

O’Connell O’Callaghan in the lineout for height,

Grabbing the ball with all of their might,

Wallace through the middle with Mafi from the side,

No fear shown here this team will not hide,

With Ronan Holland Gleeson Barnes and Dineen,

Hurley Fogarty Murphy all plainly seen,

Horan O’Driscoll and Howelett taking hit after hit,

Supported by Ryan O’ Leary and Varley all fit,

A push for the line with Zebo and stringer,

Over they go with huge effort a humdinger,

Throughout this team and having named but a few,

The future of Munster rugby looks solid and true,

With O’Mahony our newest to sharpen his skill,

And Holland Foley and Payne feeding his will,

Working stoutly behind the scenes to help keep up the good fight,

Mcgahan’s team pushing to get everything just right,

Supporters in the stands all cheering come on,

As a game hangs by a point nearly gone,

Heave Munster for Thomond Park will never let you down,

One last effort from O’Gara as the ball is sent towards town,

As it heads between the posts the final whistle ends the play,

Those Munster titans yet again have won and saved the day,

Thomond park the home of Munster rugby here in limerick city,

All who come to play here will not get any pity,

This is our home and you will find us one and all unforgiving,

To all who want to beat us, no 1/4 asked and none given.

18 Nov. 11

insulting poets (for a very insulting chip thief)

Insulting poets!

Ah sure anyone can write poetry, if they’re willing to try.

Just pick up a pen, grab some paper, and let it flow.

A historic statement from those who’s pen is always dry.

From those who’d have you believe they are truly in the know.

Poetry is easy just put some words on a page.

Ridiculous to think you might have to serve time.

Learning to recite or perform on a sage.

Learning meter, rhythm, style or rhyme.

Learn to send a message within those words.

Put effort into structure so that others will know.

Sure anyone can shout over a microphone and be heard.

No knowledge required no history in tow.

Yet why frequent readings each and every week?

If anyone can do it find better ways to spend your time.

Other than try to ridicule the meek.

Perhaps hide the fact within yourself all is not so fine.

Untrue to say “anyone can write” poetry on a page.

Your ignorance shows by the remarks you utter.

Your blank facial expression shows how you disengage.

You say poets writers are a bunch of nutters.

Still you return week after week.

For an hour you live through someone else’s word.

Insulting words are all you speak.

Forcing yourself over others to be heard.

Every poet here has set themselves a task.

At every level to try their best.

Over time improving their poets mask,.

Their work laid out put to the poets test.

So no not everyone can poetry write.

Not all can put words on a paper slip.

If poetry serves to have you contrite.

Stay home we’ll send you your chips.

cow,,,,,, why?

Cow, why?

Who’d like to be a cow, standing in a field,

Munching grass all day, nothing else to do,

A farmer herd you up, checking the milk you’d yield,

The only word you speak, is a simple flipping moo,

And,

Once a year be attacked, by that big old heavy bull,

Strolling round the field, thinking he’s all that,

Banging away on top of you, until he thinks your full,

Who’d be a shagging cow, all moo and no chat?

Have,

Some young fella come half-drunk, in the middle of the night,

While your stood there dozing, that bull still on your mind,

And knock you over, cow tipping you, fall flat with the fright,

The macho bull is useless, and sure he’s almost blind,

Be,

Herded twice a day, to the parlour, where nothing fits,

The farmer out of tune, with whatever song he plays,

Ramming suction cups, on each and every tit,

Still no sign of that bull, he’s off roaming in a daze,

So,

Why would I even think, I’d hate to be a cow?

And how did a bull come into all this,

Sure he thinks he’s a jockey, a bare back rider somehow,

And I’d only get a ride yearly, that’s taking the piss,

But,

Having said that, I do know the odd cow I must say,

Spouting a load of that, old bull, supposedly while talking,

I wonder if they would stand in a field, all night and day,

Someone pulling on their tits, having to piss while walking,

No,

A cow I should not, like to be,

No one ride’s me, spouting shite like bull,

I’ll be myself, I’ll just be me,

My milk, my words, these tits are full,

Maybe tomorrow I’d like to be a runt,

The world can kiss my ass, and call me, Mary.

what if...............

What if………?

For so long, you thought I never cared,
Did what I did, left you behind,
That I wasn’t bothered, how you had faired,
Disappointment in your eyes, was all I could find,

Yet, you never asked, why I seemed aloof,
Consumed, by a broken heart,
Smiling joking always the spoof,
Hiding the pain, in which others played a part,

Thoughts of what if? Flooded my head,
I watched as you walked towards, a new life,
From afar, I shook with dread,
Lost forever, someone else’s wife,

My belief, they were right, in the long run,
My decision, ultimately, my choice,
Your life ahead, filled, with fun,
Saddened, I never gave you a voice,

It could have been different, I could have fought,
Harder then, as I can do now,
Yet too long ago, those hidden thoughts,
Longing in shadows, sweat on my brow,

I left, so I didn’t have to see,
Your new life evolve, and grow,
Knowing too well, it would never be me,
To gaze at you, in the morning glow,

Some truth now emerges, you never knew!
I came, I went, longing for the, what if’s, remained,
Watched from afar, if your life held true,
My secrets buried deep, a broken heart stained,

Years of silence, suddenly a question asked,
Secrets revealed, the timing just right,
A broken heart died, a new man tasked,
To be the one, to stand and fight,

Upon youth’s shoulders, a grown man’s weight,
Lost forever, first love, and a new man born,
Cast then, into someone else’ fate,
Older now, looking back forlorn,

All these years you thought, I never cared?
I hide my secrets, well and true,
I’ll never know if you were spared,
We never had our chance, either me or you

sex addict

Sex addiction or what?

(Joe Nash you mad me write this ha)

Oh I’m a sex addict, yes that’s me,

I like to have sex with, two maybe three,

Not all at once, but I will if I can,

For sex addiction, is prevalent in man.

I have a fetish, for sex when I sleep,

I can’t tell, if I was in shallow, or deep,

As soon as I wake, I just can’t recall,

Whether or not I had sex at all.

Counselling, they say will make me well,

About this addiction, they want me to tell,

I simply don’t have a clue, what to say,

Other than, I think about sex, night and day.

Any good lady, whom I should meet,

I size them up from head to feet,

Now I’ve a thing for panties, in my pocket,

A hint of sex, and I’m in there, like a rocket,

I’m obsessed, but still I want sex,

If it’s not physical, I will have it by text,

All my addictions started in one go,

Listening to Joe Nash, on his radio show,

Battling on, sex addicts use it as an excuse,

And for having affairs, would be put to bad use,

Well if you take panties from the line, because the weather is wet,

You are now an addict, as to remove them you forget.

And if you ask your partner to have a quiet night in,

You should visit confession for it has to be sin,

Sex should never be denigration,

Nor performed solely, on holy days of obligation.

I am now confused, as to whether I’m an addict or not,

Whatever I had, I appear to have forgot,

I do have sex and it’s a part of all life,

If I have an addiction, let it be with my wife.

building bridges slowly falling

Building bridges slowly falling

As a child I somehow knew, that looking back would do no good,

I’d build a bridge walk across, do the things I knew I should,

But slowly they’d be falling, from decisions I had made,

Good or bad I stood my ground, knowing time would surely fade,

I left behind those things, stressful in my head,

Resolute in my decisions, my bridges fell instead,

None could cross them over, nor trust my building skill,

Their foothold trembled, fearful, I would not bend my will,

As a man I often pondered, if I was ever right,

Those who tried my bridges, soon took off in fright,

But life has a subtle way, to teach us who we are,

To build a solid bridge, not watch it from afar,

Upon the bridge no gate, nor condition should you cross,

Building falling bridges, a cowboy builder’s loss,

Open up the crossings, in life,, as time goes by,

Judge not the man who built it, his want is but to try,

Older now, yet more than able, to start on solid ground,

Harder to forget, yet so willing to be found,

Yes I built some bridges, some were slowly falling,

I long to hear the sound, of many feet, upon them calling,

Building bridges, slowly falling, fading light, as life goes by,

If there is no foundation, its better you don’t try,

Yet help those who are trying, to begin on solid ground,

No more falling bridges,new life and love abound.

Misunderstanding

Misunderstanding

Sorry, I don’t understand a word you are saying,

Perhaps it’s my accent, she has trouble comprehending,

I was in a hurry, don’t know why she was delaying,

The more I tried, she became more condescending,

Now look I repeated, here’s what I need,

I may as well have asked a brick, the time,

Repeat your last,” You want to be freed”?

I can feel my mouth beginning to mime,

Those around me understood when I spoke,

Some are smiling at my simple request,

I feel like a convict tied to a yoke,

I speak plainly, but still she must test,

Start from the beginning, speak at will,

My mouth making shapes, I again must try,

Frustrated now, I have thoughts that may kill,

All my effort, yet she must deny,

Just wait I thought, until I get her alone,

I’m pretty sure she will get the gist,

Speak plainly you sound like a drone?

It’s going to be herself, myself, and a firmly planted fist,

As soon as I got home I made the call,

We were parting company, as fast as I could,

I picked her up and planted her, half way through the wall,

Understand that I cried, if you would,

How dare she imply she is smarter than me?

Speak plainly and try not to sound like a drone,

She is now stuck, in the wall for all to see,

Understand that you smart less, immobile, dead phone.

Building bridges

Building bridges

Yes, I’m building bridges, repairing arguments, from my past,

Stone by stone, brick by brick, time, has long since passed,

With mortar and clay, my foundation, reinforced,

Some of my pillars, just may have to be coerced,

I am open to ideas, I have let my worries go,

On solid ground my bridge, will not sway, too or fro,

Those who come to travel, may well ask me why,

Across my bridge so solid, sooner I did not try,

The past is who I am, and yes I’ve made mistakes,

And this bridge I have erected, will seldom rock or shake,

Your fear of rejection, will hold you from my walk,

The obstacles you place on it, will seal your lips from talk,

Oh but, I’m forever building bridges, inviting you across,

Your choice not to venture over, is, I fear, your loss,

As I look into my past, so many bridges do I see,

Many I have walked across, not so many walk towards me,

Build a bridge ye say, walk to the other side,

My life is full of bridges, it’s you who must decide,

The most precious gift of all, time to win or lose,

My bridges have no tolls, it’s up to all to choose,

Yes, I’m building bridges, I’ve built them all my life,

So very few walk over them, too far and out of sight,

When the clock of life is fading, and time has long since passed,

My bridges will remain, until I breathe my last,

So take the chance and walk, across all bridges, you have made,

Let loose your fear and talk, regret will never fade,

Wasted time, forever lost, here and now, is where you try,

Over time we pay the cost, it’s ourselves who we deny,

Build a bridge, get over it, and walk to the other side,

It’s part of life’s remit, to live and enjoy this ride,

Let others choose to walk, your bridge of stone not wood,

Burnt bridges never talk, whereupon a stone one would.

Should tomorrow not arrive

Should tomorrow not arrive

 

If the day comes, and I’m not in it,

Something that I, want you all to know,

Life is never so infinite,

When our time is up, we all have to go,

 

I wish I could have told you, in, oh so many words,

Yet the right words, seemed to avoid my thinking,

The wrong words, were always heard,

Left me feeling, my heart was sinking,

 

So many times, I tried to show,

The love I felt for you, one and all,

My heart, and head, fought too, and fro,

I lived my life with many a fall,

 

The tools I needed, were never taught,

By those that should have, when I was young,

All those times, when we just fought,

Sat alone, my head I hung,

 

My confidence was never high,

At times, I knew not, what I’d do,

Yet, my best I knew I’d try,

For I had great love, for all of you,

 

You may not have seen, this love I felt,

You all, mean the world, to me,

Alone some nights, on knees I knelt,

Prayed the lord, would make ye see,

 

And help you all to understand,

A better life, than I once had,

Which, for me, was not so grand,

I’ll never be perfect, but for you all, I am glad,

 

That, should tomorrow, not arrive for me,

And ye should wake don’t be forlorn,

As ye think back, I pray ye’ll see,

I love ye all, from the day ye were born.

unesco poetry day limerick city

https://youtu.be/jyjXS1XWPN8

UNESCO World Book Day Reading, Limerick Sat 23rd April 2016

The father’s chair

The father’s chair
He sits quietly in his single armchair,
Watching his world evolve in real time,
It’s playing like a movie, no script, yet clear,
He sits quietly but still he is there,
Mother’s day is coming and there’s lots of hype,
Flowers chocolates and all things nice,
Kids away but there’s always Skype,
He sits quietly counts the price,
There is a day for fathers, less advertised,
Comments of every day is father’s day,
He worked hard never compromised,
He sits quietly has very little to say,
He has been there for all a shoulder for many,
They feed him and let him watch his T.V.
All things considered it seems so uncanny,
He sits and watches all he can see,
No one recalls when he was so ill,
At no time did he ask for their aid,
In a home full of people he sat so still,
He sits here a father with very little said,
They come now to visit and watch his chair,
His world stopped no more time,
No movie no script everything unclear,
So quiet now he no longer sits fine,
Memories of why didn’t someone ask,
Is there something you might like to do?
Perhaps get involved in some or other task,
An empty chair time stopped missing you.

worth and value

Worth and value

 

An old friend called today, stressed beyond belief,

Said they had the feeling, they were, left out in the cold,

The same feeling, they said, of suffering and grief,

Suddenly they felt useless and very old,

 

So I listened for a while, heard all it was, they had to say,

And with heavy heart, I began to think, out loud,

“Your life is not so bad, on any given day,

There are lots of things that ought to make you proud,

 

Like the sun rising each morning, to start a new page in your life,

The switch that turns the kettle on for tea,

The milk in your new fridge, and you stress because of life,

Here’s a little advice from poor old me,

 

My roof is leaking water, when it rains which is most days,

The milk is sour I have no fridge to keep it cool,

My dog’s not well he hasn’t long or so the vet, he says,

Yet I didn’t call you moaning like a fool,+

 

The rent is due, and so, my landlord, wants to meet?

No food shopping done this week, for me,

I too have bills and I juggle them but still I tap my feet,

I am alive I will get through it I am free”,

 

It’s then I realised, there was silence, on my phone,

No sound, came from, the other end,

Laughing I knew that I was talking and alone,

My credit went which is usually the trend,

 

Some cheek I thought, some friend, moaning life is oh so bad,

And them full knowing where my life is sorely at,

They should take a look about, them and of little things, be glad,

Not leading boring lives which seem so flat,

 

There are all kinds of people in life, or so I’m told,

Some who like to moan about the hurt,

Most know value before they get too old,

All know the price of things; few if any, know their worth.

A need indeed

Yes it was you, who needed me,...
So I came, each time you called,
Sorting out some or other melee,
My decision never stalled,

Yes you had need of me, it was you,
So help me, I was there in a flash,
My arrow straight, my aim always true,
To your aid, I would readily dash,

My way, you had needed, yes,
Though, not always calm or cool,
In all we did, we were blessed,
You were never to any a fool,

Later, when you needed my ear,
About what was best to do,
I held your hand, fought off the fear,
Told you, I’d always be true,

You needed me, so I was there,
At the drop of a hat, I appeared,
My mind was always clear,
It was for you, I always feared,

Whenever you called, on the phone,
I kept my promise, right through,
Together, for we were never alone,
It’s now, more than ever, I have need of you.