Lord Bless Africa

Nineteen-eighteen to twenty-thirteen,
ninety-five years in all,
twenty-seven years of a long walk to freedom.
Eight-hundred-and-fifty people called
to complain and record their upset
that a television show had been
interrupted to announce Mandela's death
during a hilarious scene.

Disgraceful to diminish such news
and yet a smiling Nelson
would have considered their views,
and possibly chuckled at them
asserting their rights,
no more than he might have thought
Obama and Cameron were doing no harm
taking selfies as they talked
at the memorial service for a man
who was prepared to die.

(Nelson Mandela died on 5th December 2013. The BBC interrupted a repeat episode of the comedy, Mrs. Brown's Boys, to announce his passing and received 850 complaints about the interruption.
independent.ie article & Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika)

Holy Night

Scapulars in place
wimples under chin
Do I need a breastplate?
Yes, guimopes are in.
Is a veil part of the vow
or should we all don coronets?
Don't forget your shoes now,
sensible is best.

A couple lost a son
and Christy Walsh did undertake
to inspire everyone
to support a record break.
Not only did they do it
but he also got two fines
for serving fifteen hundred sisters
after legal closing time.

I can't help but feel annoyed:
Were there not any other sins
to keep the guards employed
during the nuns' well-deserved lock-ins?

(Explanation: Christy Walsh, a Listowel publican, ran Nunday on 30th June 2012. Over 1400 people dressed in full nun's habit turned out and broke a world record. A Co. Kerry family had lost their son to suicide and Walsh organised the event to raise funds for Pieta House. The celebrations went on past closing time and Walsh's pub was raided twice by the guards resulting in his being fined.
Inspired by: allvoices.com article)

Artistic Licence

The TV licence is only for mugs
sure it's all ads unless you have Sky.
A driver's licence is simply a joke
when petrol costs are so high.
A dog licence is a nuisance
it takes forever to get
(Why does it have to be handwritten,
do they know it's just for your pet?)
Give me a few hours rest
locked away from the noise and the fuss;
Let me serve out some time as your guest,
where I won't have to cook, wash or dust.
While I'm there you can give me three grand
and write off my debts if you please
and I can be safe in the knowledge
that artistic licence is all that I need.

(Explanation: Raimie Leahy is a Kilkenny artist. He served a few hours in prison because of an outstanding parking fine of €270 in August 2013. He had paid the fine by cheque but because the cheque was made out for €290.00 it wasn't cashed so the fine remained outstanding. The fine was written off after the jail time was served. Today one of Leahy's paintings hangs in the Garda Station where he served his time after the OPW paid €3000 for it.
Inspired by: Kilkenny People Article)

A Ferryman Joke

They had stayed the night on the island resort,
the speeches and the photos were done,
their lifetime's wealth gone on ceremony.

Clothes changed now to depart anon,
thanked everyone for being so kind,
paid the massive bill
and waited out at the river.

They waited around,
they heard the ferryman growl.
The voice of the bride begged, "do it!"
Voices left and right yelled, "do it!"
An angry answer came back from the shore;
"Ye haven't a clue:

If you don't pay the ferryman
he simply won't think twice:
If you don't pay the ferryman
he won't get you to the other side."

(Explanation: On 27th September 2013, guests at Waterford Castle Hotel found themselves stranded on Little Island in Waterford City. A civil dispute had arisen between the ferryman and the hotel management. The hotel is currently in receivership and it is thought that it was in debt to the private ferry service. 
I wrote this to the tune and rhyme of the Chris De Burgh song Don't Pay The Ferryman.
Inspired by: RTÉ news story, Don't Pay The Ferryman by Chris De Burgh)

The Man In Boxer Shorts

The party was magnificent:
We considered how the hitch
had passed off without incident,
not the slightest little glitch.
Drinking, dancing, singing loud
but no inebriation.
Congratulations ringing out
a perfect celebration.

For us the day was over
and we called it a night
but there were those who felt too sober
to resist a final pint.
The groom's brother sipped
until the hotel bar was closed
and then he took the lift
and found his room where he disrobed

All set now for sleep
bar one more thing to do,
Francis had to pee
so he headed for the loo.
He steadied and he focused
and he leaned against the wall,
threw wide open the toilet door
and walked right
                     .......into the hall!

Out in the corridor
in nothing but his kaks
surrounded by matching doors
and still needing the jacks,
he remembers that someone passed,
he forgets quite a lot,
he's sure of the fact that
he pissed in a plant pot.

The details still elude him
so we may never know
if he had his photo taken
or puked up on the floor.
The day may come when he is picked
for the leading part
in a YouTube exposé-type clip
of a man in boxer shorts.

(Explanation: After Martin & I got married we threw a Housewarming Party a few days later and announced our marriage there. Martin's family came to the party at our house and stayed at the Viking Ramada Hotel in Waterford City. Martin's dad visited in the last few days and it was only then that we only found out about the antics of Martin's brother, Francis, that night.
Inspired by: Francis O'Sullivan)

Nuair A Bhuail Cinniúint Le Seans 's Dréim / When Fate And Destiny Collided

Lán iarrachta, trialach agus stró                                         With much effort, attempt and strain
tógadh dhá shaol scartha:                                                  two lives built but not in twain:
Oideachas, obair 'gus óstóireacht,                                     Schooling, striving, socialising,
Ag siúl amach le nua-theoiric                                             dating, waiting, theorising
gach lá úr ar cá bhfuil sí?                                                   on where she is and what's her name?
's fós arís ní tharla aon ní.                                                  But nothing happened all the same.

I lár an mhaitheas 's an ghéire                                           Amid the great and the unfair
tá tú i gcónaí i d' leathphéire                                              you're always one half of a pair.

Gan iarracht, triail agus gan stró                                       Without effort, attempt and without strain
Siúlann dhá shaol ar aon treo:                                          Two lives are walking one terrain:
Comhchuntas, comhmhórgáiste 'nois.                              Joint account and mortgage now.
Cathain a tharla sé? Conas?                                            When did it happen? When and how?
Nuair a bhuail cinniúint le seans 's dréim                          When fate and destiny collided
Más ea ní bheadh sé duine claon.                                    So he would no more be one-sided.

I lár an mhaitheas 's an ghéire                                          Amid the great and the unfair
tá tú i gcónaí i d' leathphéire                                             you're always one half of a pair.

(Explanation: I wrote this for my friends, Conor and Amanda, for their wedding in 2006. I think I need to add a couple of disclaimer points here 1. I know absolutely nothing about the financial affairs of my friends and the only purpose of mentions of joint accounts and mortgages is symbolic of marriage  2. I don't think either the hero or the heroine of this piece was really wondering if they'd ever meet the one because they were too busy living their lives, symbolism, Baby!!

Also please bear in mind that I was trying to write the same poem in Irish and English while trying to make each one rhyme so I had to be creative....I plead poetic licence. Are you ready for even more symbolism? The reason that I wanted to write this in the two languages is that the couple in question was made up of an Irish person and an English person.
That time in 2006 means a lot to me. We got married the next year and, eventhough we had just started seeing each other, had our secret wedding all planned out by the time we attended Conor and Amanda's in the UK....That was Martin's first time on a plane....and it would be another five years before he would take his first train journey!
Inspired by: Conor and Amanda who seemed to find each other without much searching)

120 Seasons

With sixty-six months
up your sleeves
and nose-hairs up your nose,
your appetite for wine and cheese
the post post teenager shows.
You're dedicated to yourself
without apology
and explanations wear your patience
as all things unnecessary
to the 30-year sense.

What lies before you
holds no wait,
the future makes no sound.
The 10950 days
are in a buried mound.
Your goldfish view of present thoughts
takes eagerness in hand -
tomorrow will come anyway
for soloist or band.
Snow, hail or sun: Make hay.

(Explanation: I wrote this in 2006 for my cousin, Liam, in honour of his 30th birthday.
Inspired by: Turning 30 a few months before Liam and coming to the realisation that you care far less what other people think once you get out of your twenties...Of course that might just have been me!)

Masters Of The Universe

Three boys playing
Central Bank
like donkeys braying
they plan their prank.
No fear of laws
or regulation
Full of thoughts
above their stations

Three men diving
off the pier.
Shouts of strife
reach their ears.
Prompt reactions
save a life,
Selfless actions
win hero rights.

Three boys hiding under hoods.
Three men acting as men should.
Three boys putting their own cause first.
Three men are masters of the universe.

(Explanation: In Ireland we have had the displeasure of being regaled by the disgusting conversations of and about John Bowe, Peter Fitzgerald & David Drumm which have showed the Irish people the true disdain for the average citizen felt by those who caused the Irish economy to collapse.
At the same time as these recordings were leaked a story about how three 14-year-old boys, David Grant, Alex May & Ben Graham saved 13-year-old Shelomith Freeman's life made the news.
I heard someone on the radio talking about how the people (I use the term loosely) in the leaked tapes seemed to believe they were masters of the universe and really it seems to me that those who saved another's life are the ones who deserve such a title.

Inspired by: http://www.independent.ie/irish-news/teenagers-hailed-as-heroes-after-saving-drowning-girls-life-29366893.html, 
'Inspired' is an unfortunate word to have to use for these:
http://www.independent.ie/business/irish/tapes-that-reveal-what-really-led-to-national-collapse-29366839.html
http://www.independent.ie/opinion/analysis/tapes-make-overwhelming-case-for-full-inquiry-into-banks-29366987.html
http://www.independent.ie/business/irish/inside-anglo-the-secret-recordings-29366837.html)

An Ice Pack On The Knocker

There’s a lady up in Dublin with a pain in her left tit:
She was attacked during her slumber and got slain by a stray bit
of  tree that made its mission to cut and stab and lance
then concealed itself from vision and waited for its chance.
Its victim didn’t know her top held a covert ninja;
a stowaway, a sniper, a twig with plans to injure.

This lady had a pair of the most enormous breasts;

She couldn’t shop in Penney’s for clothing for her chest.
She’d often left a vehicle (this next occurrence was not rare)
then realised too late that half her rack was still in there.

Off to sleep the lady went with the hidden felon

ready to inflict its worst on either massive melon.
She woke in pain, in agony, her left kahuna throbbed
and that was not the worst of it, the next bit made her sob:
Her mother-in-law would love this as she had always claimed
that ironing is essential  if you don’t want to be maimed.

Distraught the lady went and shared her sorry lot:
An "ice pack on the knocker" was all the sympathy she got.


(Explanation: Deborah at At The Clothesline published The Problem With Big Boobs today. It was followed by a lively discussion about @TheClotheslines's post on Twitter which included @nurserydublin, @awfullychipper and the advice of @wholesomeIE which was "Ice pack on the knocker."
Inspired by: http://theclotheslineie.wordpress.com/2013/06/19/the-problem-with-big-boobs/)

Powers Near Unlimited

Come one, come all and get in

to my new religious group.
We only want the women,
but we’ll keep men in the loop.

The men can join but must commit

to doing menial motions,

and also must accept the bit

that there are no promotions.

The women, though, will live so well

and will think they have such rights

as to imagine they can pick and tell

who might live or die.

Powers near unlimited (and here you’ll drop your jaw),

of expecting consultation
in all parts of civil law.

Our group of girls will toe the line,

and dedicate our names

to making sure and certain

that our ships all sail the same.

We’ll decide to be dead set against

the granting of such rights

as medical help and treatment

for men about to die.

Sure what will we care in our gang?

So long as we’re OK.

We could claim a higher power rang

and told us what to say.

We could decree, wait ‘til you hear!

That we won’t have children too,

but make sure that we interfere

when other people do.

It’ll be some craic, all fun and games,

ladies, are you in?

Don’t worry, there’s no shame

when it’s in the name of a religion.

(Explanation: This links up to a letter I wrote to Enda Kenny : http://musingsofahostagemother.blogspot.ie/2012/12/i-am-worried-for-future.html )