recovering in hospital is boring so read this lol :)

The joint
 (for a fellow poet in hospital get well)
I like to keep fit, but I’m lying in bed,
 I’ve broken some bit, of my body instead,
 Off out and about, running and racing,
 I just want to shout, not slow down my pacing,
So with tablet in hand, not shoved down my throat,
 The internet is grand, it keeps me afloat,
 My friends all e-mail, their worries and woes,
 I walk like a snail, but my mending it slows,
A story teller please, to spin me a yarn,
 If I could get on my knees, I’d beg, sure what harm,
 Just to pass time, perhaps make me laugh,
 Make it all fine, I might escape from this gaff,
If only to find, I’m not in total shock,
 So hard this old grind, my bits are a crock,
 They will shove in a pin, try hold things together,
 It’s a mortal sin; I’ve been here forever,
But I will get out, yes I will recover,
 Walk slowly about, hope to discover,
 That all will be well, they will fix what is wrong,
 This is like living hell; I am here way too long,
 The drugs seem ok; the place is far from a tip,
 Night blends to day, is it your knee or my hip,
 All things considered, I’m not fit I’m in bed,
 Just feeling withered, that a piece of me is dead.

now heres a memory hahahah

Mystery woman resolved

 

She moved into our block, for it was surely ours,

All the women were in total shock, tried to find her out for hours,

The mystery woman and her son, a mother to a fatherless lad,

Not a kind word from anyone, was there to be heard, given, or had,

 

Men smiled as she went about her day, this mother to a fatherless child,

With no one about, they had plenty to say, their eyes suddenly beguiled,

To no avail did anyone get, an ounce of information,

The rumour mill was already set, for gossip and assassination,

 

Some said her man had gone to jail, for too many a drunken brawl,

A marriage that was doomed to fail, from one too many a fall,

Others thought she buried him, in a forgotten plot of land,

Her father in a temperas whim, killed him with one hand,

 

Still no one thought to ask the lady, her present circumstance,

Preferring to think of all things shady, or some such happenstance,

She kept her business to herself, her son attended school,

Whether she was on or off the marriage shelf, she was nobody’s fool,

 

I’d listened to these rumours, for many a long hard day,

The knots in the women’s bloomers, I’d hear what she had to say,

So I asked when we had met, walking up the street,

Information I aimed to get, the rumours to defeat,

 

Mystery woman I said, there is gossip along this road,

That you had a man now dead, the women’s brains are in overload,

It seemed she had a man, who died in an accident upon a farm,

From tragedy she ran, ending in a place so full of yarns,

 

If the women are so worried, might they not help a girl in need?

Instead of unfounded words too hurried, their idle lives, to rumour feed,

All she saw was feet, her man dead beneath the truck,

And for the gossips on this street, tell them I couldn’t give a f**k

ah the auld armchair

I Inherited the chair

 

 

I always thought you were right, when I was a child,

After all, your word was law, it was final,

Sat in your chair, watching the sports, on T.V. as you did,

As I sat on the floor watching you, beguiled,

For years I gazed trying to figure out your denial,

Lost in the sports channel, in a world where you hid,

 

It was you and you’re chair and the sports, dare anyone intrude,

Silently taking in scores and positions,

Who played well, who was a disaster on the day,

Just a glare to see who it was being noisey and rude,

You disagreeing with some referee’s decision,

Yet a shout when something seemed to go your way,

 

I grew up watching you take part from your chair,

As if you were on the field of play,

Watched you decide, how to turn your team into winners,

Heard you tell anyone who’d listen, “it has to be fair”,

When you lost that there would be another better day,

And here I was just a watcher a beginner,

 

You’re gone now; there is no sports channel on my T.V.

No one to shout who or why some play was wrong or right,

I sit and watch my son, as he watches me, lost in thought,

I recall it was I watched you as you decided to teach me,

When something was wrong, if I could, I should stand and fight,

There were no rules for being an adult, my chair new bought,

 

I wonder if he will look as much at his son,

While he studies the way things will turn out,

Like my father before me sorting his little team,

As I look back I recall that it was for me so much fun,

I jumped each time my father let go with a shout,

With delight and sadness, I sit back in his chair and dream.

who kows eh lol :)

From the cradle a thought

 

It’s a funny old world, into which I am hurled,

And told that this is you’re lot,

Without fervour or grace, straight to my face,

That this is all I had got,

 

To my own surprise, when I opened my eyes,

I was surrounded by many a stranger,

They cooed and awed, some even pawed,

As I lay cosy in my manger,

 

And so it goes, many to’s and froe’s,

I learned, I lived and grew,

To teenage times, when all is fine,

The past long gone it flew,

 

To adulthood, where tall I stood,

I began to have some fears,

To be at large, told I’m in charge,

I wished for bygone years,

 

Older now, lines on my brow,

Yet still I try so hard,

No wrinkle spared, from those I cared,

Now age my only card,

 

And who will tell, if I lived life well,

But those I leave behind,

Memories made, a kind word said,

Won’t be too hard to find,

 

Yes, it’s a funny old world, into which I am hurled,

I pray that I do well,

I’ll try my best, to pass life’s test,

For the future we can’t tell,

 

But from this cot, I’ll live not rot,

Face all that lies ahead,

This is our lot; we only get one shot,

We spend longer being dead.

when love called

When love called

 

Love called and it clouded my mind,

There was something about you that struck a nerve,

Slowly but surely I left myself behind,

It didn’t take long before I saw myself serve,

I was lost and you were all I could find,

 

I never invited love to come in,

I assume it was love at least in the start,

That’s where losing myself would begin,

Who I am and why would seemingly depart,

You’re smile suddenly became a grin,

 

Still I loved you with all of my soul,

Never a thought of any betrayal,

Honesty was not it turned out your goal,

Though I tried I was doomed to fail,

Your heart became blacker then coal,

 

I convinced myself it was but a mistake,

The third time you lashed out,

My love forgiving you didn’t shake,

After all it was what love for me was about,

All I gave was not enough for you to take,

 

My love remained when you and yours left,

And time has healed my wounded heart,

Slowly but surely I am no longer bereft,

Time is healing my shattered parts,

If love calls again I will speedily have left.

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.