snails

 

 

 

 

Shady muddies (snails)

 

Oh the shady muddies are coming, they’re climbing up our walls,

Slowly they’re not running, as they slither they won’t fall,

They’re drinking the rain water, their house upon their backs,

The plants they eat and slaughter, they know nothing of government tax,

 

Silently they move, leaving a shiny trail behind,

They have neither rhythm nor groove, nothing on their mind,

Freely they are roaming, to each and every door,

You never hear them moaning, neither rich nor poor,

 

But those shady muddies are coming, probing with their horns,

Like politicians running, from people crowned with thorns?

Promising all sorts, all kinds of raves and rants,

Together with their cohorts, have eaten all our plants,

 

They’re snails you see, living free off this green land,

Paying lip service to you and me, saying everything is grand,

They don’t do a lot, just slither slowly round,

They’ll tax everything you got, hidden well just underground,

 

And we won’t see it coming, distraction is their game,

While we’re up in arms and running, their plan remains the same,

Tax everything that moves, tax all that we can see,

Hide their clever little grooves, nothing comes for free,

 

Shady muddies won’t be rushed, into nothing will they be hurled,

To move they must be pushed, they plan to rule the world,

Oh shady muddy shady muddy, please stick out your horns,

All your efforts seen are shoddy; we pay tax before we’re born,

 

This country is our garden, while you feed beneath the grass,

The people have now hardened; we want to kick your ass,

While Merkel is your queen, her way becomes your rule,

In all that we have seen, she’s played you for a fool,

 

In Europe snails are rich, they bide their time and wait,

For Greece to make their pitch, sealing another countries fate,

Ireland on the other hand, waits and hopes and prays,

All shady muddy parties banned, numbered are their days.

who'd be a mistress eh ?

Alone or used?

 

It can’t have been easy, watching from afar,

Wishing things turned out a little better for you,

Smiling faces at weddings lovers wishing on a star,

Missing all those things you believed to be true,

Yet you held on waiting for Mr Right,

Thought maybe he’d come on a great white horse,

Your savour your shining knight,

You still wait filling with remorse,

Old suitors married with kids and a wife,

All seemingly happy with their lot,

Now feeling you lost out on a life,

They seem to have everything that you have not,

In truth always the bridesmaid yet never a bride,

Your friends all married each with their man,

This life you yearned for always denied,

Were you too eager? Is that why they ran,

It’s a lonely life a spinster alone,

Too late now to try anything new,

No liaisons arranged on the phone,

Dashed hopes of watching children as they grew,

Should you turn to religion now there’s nothing else,

Perhaps the priest will let you serve at the altar,

No, everyone would know then you are still on that shelf,

That all your efforts tried and faltered,

Enough then, to feed the birds in the park,

Throwing stale bread from a stale life,

To slumber all alone in the dark,

Never to be called as someone’s wife,

No it’s never easy to watch from afar,

Plenty offers for a mistress in tow,

No, you’ll wait for your shining star,

For that kind of love you could not go,

Though he may never come you’re mister right somehow,

You will never give in to that Mr right now.

mommas little birdie ha :)

True detective in childhood

 

There must have been sixty children in six flats in balla,

So every now and then one or two would have a little fight,

It didn’t matter if you were a girl or a fella,

If you felt someone wronged you then you had to put it right,

 

Gillian was her name and I was told she squealed,

About some or other thing I might or not have done,

Well I was going to have her and all would be revealed,

By the time I was finished she would be having a lot less fun,

 

I was grounded until the father came home,

But I saw her out through the window of my room,

The door was locked and I was on my own,

Waiting for the strap by the light of the moon,

 

“I’ll get you” I roared as she walked passed my house,

“It’s all your fault that I’m waiting on the strap”

Get in from that window you stupid old louse,

No idea what you’re on about or I’ll give you a slap,

 

Well you told my mother what I did the other day,

Now I’m for the high jump and it’s all down to you,

Ah shut up you fool she said “I had nothing to say,”

My mother told me and lying is something they don’t do,

 

As we shouted up and down from the window it rained,

It was always a secret how my mother knew everything,

I worked it all out though and I was sure who was to be blamed,

It was that Gillian one, hell to her world I was about to bring,

 

My mother told me a little birdie told her on me,

And I worked it out that it had to be you,

Sure isn’t your mother’s name birdie,

So all the time what my mother said has to be true.

superhero moms

For mothers on mother’s day

 

Warden style

 

She used to do the washing by the sink in our upstairs kitchen,

Stood there like a prison warden all knowing all seeing,

There were a lot of us little prisoners mostly fighting or bitching,

She’d let out a roar which would send the lot of us fleeing,

Yet, there was no escaping this warden of the masses,

For held every tool known to mankind,

No misdemeanour escaped her all seeing glasses,

If you were involved, she knew it, and soon you, she would find,

We believed she could see through walls,

She also heard noises before we could make them,

Just before you were to get up to something she called,

And god help you if you if to her you hadn’t ran,

Get your arse over here to this sink she’d say,

So I can look into your blackening soul,

“Shit” you knew you were caught; there was nothing you could say,

 As your mind sank deeper into that guilty hole,

“Wait until your father gets home and I tell him what you did,”

Somehow you knew it was either the boot or the strap,

And long before he got home you were hours just hid,

It was as if no matter what she had you always in her trap,

We knew all about super heroes with super powers from comic books,

If people knew we had them walking up and down our block every day,

Yet you could never tell unless you knew how to look,

Every mother with one look had a multitude of things to say,

Those balla flats had twelve families all with their own superhero,

No matter what you did or where you went in limerick city they knew,

Without leaving the house whatever you did they’d know

They even changed into a little bird and we believed they flew.

close enough to be far away

Close enough to be far away

 

It must have been a race but no one told me,

From start to finish all the lanes may have been filled,

Where it took place was so much a mystery,

It may have been a relay at times, ye’re batons never spilled,

Well no one bothered to inform me,

 

I thought I was part of the team,

At least that was how it was supposed to be run,

Yet your rule book was so different from the one I’d seen,

All together running and you all were having the fun,

On show for years yet I was nowhere to be seen,

 

Was it a race and if so why didn’t I know?

I spoke to you all almost every week,

I would have partaken if I was asked to go,

But in plain sight you played hide and seek,

Ye’re relationships all strong mine a no go,

 

Running round in groups and if I called, always one on one,

Placating me with platitudes agreeing with my every word,

It was a race alright, but one which I could never have run,

I’m wired differently then you or so I have heard,

So much so, I am not included in your version of fun,

 

It’s too late now I guess you are happy with your race,

No room for someone wired like me,

Keep running together, I am what you cannot face,

I am all you can’t or won’t ever want to see,

I am past I am present I am that place,

 

If it’s a race then I was shoved out,

Simply put, I am all you wish to forget,

In your hurry to run you whisper not shout,

You will forever be caught in my net,

You will see me in every race running about,

 

Just on the edge of your peripheral vision,

A worry that seems distant from you now,

Most likely a group taken decision,

Omitted from inclusion somehow,

Close enough to be distant, by omission.

replaceable

Replaceable

 

 

Standing on the corner of the world, looking down on your planet,

Are you a god into humanity hurled? Watching us procreate and man it,

 

Believing only you have the right, to allow your subjects to think,

Any upset will feel your wrath and might, fear hovering on the brink,

 

Annihilation for those who withstand, any call you decide, you will make,

It’s your world albeit manned, but your throne they want to take,

 

Oh, you will show them who is boss, on dying breath you will never concede,

You don’t care the cost or loss, upon your death only, your throne be freed,

 

For you are master of all stood there, they know not of anything lest you decree,

As you rule with word and fear, some minions look and truly see,

 

Beware the calf who drinks too much, his body grows large and strong,

He needs no help to drink as such; his aim is firm his journey long,

 

He bides his time and watches well, an ageing god who lowers his guard,

You, that cow dried up, he’ll fell, and with ease it will not be hard,

 

So stand there on your corner proud, survey all that you can see,

Listen hard to the silence loud, your subjects long are free,

 

No god are you over any man, they see just what you are,

Your throne be filled because any can, your are but a falling star,

 

Beware the feeling only you are right, those about you, always wrong,

Behind you, for your throne will fight, your replacement won’t be so long.

not sure if this is finished but it's a thought i guess

Men won’t talk?

 

Sure we can talk the cross off an ass’s back, can us men,

Our use of diction and local dialect is second to none,

Sort out issues with whole countries, since time began,

Take everything in our stride; make it seem like fun,

Be the life and soul of any gig or party,

 

Perhaps it’s just the way we Irish are reared,

Men are strong, hard decision makers, and in charge,

Women are soft, to be treasured for and cared,

A force of nature us men by and large,

Yet hiding a need to be heard by anyone,

 

Brought up to work hard, marry, be a family man,

A pillar of any given community, stood tall,

Taught to stand firm, fight for good if we can,

Men are to be peers to those who follow and never fall,

Surrounded by people, yet no one to talk to,

 

Sat in a pub, having a good old hearty laugh with the lads,

Expert in everything from politics to rocket science and more,

Discussing all from fashion to fads,

Protectors of values men stand to the fore,

Like scared children afraid to show any sign of weakness,

 

At the first sign of doubt, men dismiss it as soft thought,

Any idea of something that may cause worry,

Barriers go up and no way will men be caught,

Lacking in manly duties, finding it hard, so hard to say sorry,

A tough exterior is all anyone will see,

 

Men, the life and soul of any gig, or party they go to,

Always hiding a need to be heard, by someone, anyone,

Surrounded by people, yet no one to talk things through,

Scared that they will be seen as the weakest one,

Decision made, preferring death, then face our version of truth.

enough go quietly enda kenny joan burton

Enough go quietly

 

No, I will not go quietly without having my say,

I have listened to your words beating me down,

Yes I will go, but not on your say,

If I stay, I surely will, under your words drown,

But I will not go quietly,

 

You, who are self-proclaimed know it all’s,

Shouting your rhetoric from your podium,

No, you will not see me fall,

I have found my voice I know who I am,

You can push but I will not go quietly,

 

Use all your tricks, for I have seen them at play,

Too long I have sat in my quiet little box,

No longer do you have anything of worth to say,

I have taken way too many of your hard knocks,

I am awake and will not go quietly,

 

Having woken from my long suffering slumber,

Taken all the tough times you have dished out,

Thought long and hard I now have your number,

What once was a whisper has grown into a shout,

Perhaps I will go but you will be leaving quietly,

 

You have poked this sleeping beast once too often,

And had no response for far too long,

The anger festered and will not now soften,

Noisily singing a different song,

As you leave look back this beast is awake,

 

No more bending to your do or die rule,

Nor your use of tactics best kept for war,

This once sleeping beast is no such fool,

You are no leader you have gone too far,

Say farewell now it’s time to go quietly.

Christy O'Donnell ,Humour in Poetry.: Behind those eyes

Christy O'Donnell ,Humour in Poetry.: Behind those eyes: Behind those eyes   Deep behind those eyes you stare with intent, Hidden thoughts, of those things you always wanted to do, ...

Behind those eyes

Behind those eyes

 

Deep behind those eyes you stare with intent,

Hidden thoughts, of those things you always wanted to do,

Wonderful times when you appeared so content,

Happy go lucky, that was you,

 

Underneath that brow lurked a somewhat joyful youth,

The times you had the places you had been,

I guess we both always told each other the truth,

For behind your eyes are the same things I have seen,

 

So many times I was there to help and guide,

Taught you how to make them all smile,

To me you could never have lied,

No matter how much you used your guile,

 

And even when the truth hurt you to say,

Things were all mixed up in your mind,

I was there to ask if you needed a place to stay,

You knew how easy I was always to find,

 

Your determination was a sight to behold,

In everything you tried and every job you held,

Yet something in those eyes went cold,

Something strange therein had dwelled,

 

You are gone now no longer here,

Missed by more than you will ever know,

What lurked behind your eyes was fear,

The sight clouded when you decided to go,

 

Happy go lucky, that was always you,

So much our eyes have together seen,

I miss your cheeky smile you know,

All I can see now is what could have been.

homeless am i !

Homeless am i!

 

 

So, you just can’t see me stood here,

But you walk by me at the same time each day,

Are you avoiding my gaze through fear?

In case I have something to say,

 

Unlike you my bed is a doorway to sleep,

Life has put me in this place,

I had all you cherish and keep,

But now a very forgettable face,

 

No, I am not asking for your last few pence,

Fear not I won’t lay my hands on your clothes,

Behind these eyes there is good sense,

Where I am now no one knows,

 

But I am right here, yet you won’t see me,

You are embarrassed on my behalf,

In plain sight cloaked in invisibility,

You pretend to be on your phone and laugh,

 

Homeless yes homeless is what I am,

I sleep on the street each night,

I eat from skips or the odd thrown away can,

Yes I do look an unsavoury sight,

 

There are lots of us, who find it too hard,

To be able to deal with daily life,

Unable to cope we are playing our only and final card,

Forgotten by most, we cause nothing but strife,

 

To be avoided for days, months, even years,

Unwilling to see or fearing words that are said,

Until in public places your worst of fears,

Found on your street, homeless person dead,

 

Yes it was me you passed every day,

Your head hung low you had nothing to say,

As those in power passed by in cars,

Drinking whiskey in the government bars,

I served my country when I knew I could,

No one served me, nor thought they could.

it's not me

gone but never forgotten
death of a nephew so young

It’s not me (Keith Smith)

 

In the end it just wasn’t me,

 

Though, looking in the mirror, what looked back was my reflection,

I saw through eyes that were somewhat, clouded,

My mind saw me, as no more than a minor distraction,

I was hidden by thoughts, weighed down and shrouded,

 

Perhaps it was me yet different,

 

I fought what I saw as real demons, battled them each day,

For me the fight was real, but I know I tried,

Words came out of me that I never wanted to say,

It hurt me more knowing those who loved me cried,

 

It was me, but something was missing,

 

Facebook kept asking “what’s on your mind”

I was in there, but found it so hard to surface,

Someone else was living my life, which I couldn’t find,

My mind had thought it better, me to replace,

 

The missing thing was me,

 

It was a short battle and I knew I was lost,

Fighting to get a grip on life every day,

Yet I and all who knew me would pay the ultimate cost,

I was gone, but the fight was about how long I could stay,

 

Now it is me,

 

My battle was, I didn’t know how to say goodbye,

The words I said were, my attempt to say a last goodnight,

I know how much you loved me, also how hard you all tried,

The old me called and the new me wasn’t up to the fight,

 

Remember the old real me,

The me who loved and shared,

Not that new me,

But the one, who for you all, cared.

black sheep

every family has at least one I guess

Black sheep

 

 

How often do I cross your mind, or do you think I might be included,

Am I a fleeting thought, undefined, a subject to which someone or other alluded,

When gatherings are planned in advance, am I even on your list,

At tables a seat unmanned, am I thought of or even missed,

Is it easier for you to not me invite, fearing I may upset a preferred guest?

Who or what gives you the right, to decide whether or not I will be a pest,

I laugh and say I am the black sheep, always there but never here,

My laughter hides feelings buried deep, pushed aside yet still able to care,

Yes, I am that family member, the one that gets left behind,

Never allowed to be a contender, lost and no one willing to find,

While you sit happy within your chosen group, I am to be avoided,

You accepted by those in the troupe, all of which have now decided,

To trade lip service and politeness, to ease their troubled mind,

Here I sit outside the circle in quietness, the black sheep easy to find,

I am who you all made me; at one time I had a value and use,

An outcast, now you don’t like what you see, little more than a feeble excuse,

I recall times when there was trouble, now and then it was to me you all turned,

To sort out some or other muddle, the bridges to you all have now been burned,

From childhood I learned my trade, from you who went before I could walk,

The black sheep now that mantle laid, no need, no more, no talk,

I like to think I may have tried, at times when it was needed,

Know you all that I have cried, my efforts gone unheeded,

From black sheep land there’s no return, the bridges all raised to ash,

The fires out the feelings turned, a heart of stone not glass,

If at times I cross your mind, or surface as a fleeting thought,

It’s a memory you have no wish to find, like a cold you may have caught,

When gatherings in advance are planned, look hard upon your list,

There is no chair left unmanned; black sheep are never missed,

Now you’ve decided I have no use, the relationship has stalled,

The bridges I build are the ones I choose, but I was there each time you called.