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 )

A Roll By Any Other Name

When the Vikings came and gave Waterford its name

they considered their description carefully.

Where did this talent stray, it’s not in Waterford today:

Why do they curse that yummy recipe?

The Vikings would have known that when you market tasty dough

you should choose your words to whet the appetite.

The name that they’d put on it wouldn’t make you want to vomit

and might even tempt you to a little bite.

Rebrand, relaunch, rename, RENAME. There’s so much waiting to be gained,

you own the patent, sell your lunch, you can beat the credit crunch!

Oh Vadrefjord, why can’t you see? Use those brains in WIT...

Munster, nationwide then global...But while it’s a blaa it’ll only be local!

(Explanation: Waterford is home to the famous blaa.)

John O'Keeffe: The Hornpipe

Did you ever watch the news
and wonder what you're missing,
what the real story is behind it all?
Well sit down in your pews
and prepare for hours of listening
to the sermon from book one of Berlin's famous wall.

No matter what the topic
of the night's discussion:
Poverty in Africa or the curlew's mating call:
John O'Keeffe won't mock it,
but he'll mention its relation
to his part in the bringing down of the Berlin wall.

He undercover ran with a mob of plenty
through the streets of Berlin West,
commis one and all.
Years before his time (was he even twenty?)
I'm sure you've nearly guessed -
he brought down the Berlin wall.

Forgotten by historians,
and by most of his relations,
he relies on storytelling for his glory to recall.
Unlucky for our hero the only public recitations
are given by himself,
so we will know about it all.

(Explanation: My uncle, John O'Keeffe, has told us the story of his part in the fall of the Berlin Wall a million times. For all of our mocking it is a great story and he is great at telling it. I wrote this in December 2005. It is written in hornpipe time.
Inspired by: My uncle, John O'Keeffe)

Home Help Yourself

Well of course the majority of clients claimed the service is great, they’re well fed...

Of course they did, why wouldn’t they? They’re not the ones who are dead.

They’re not the ones who can’t complain, they’re not the ones who can’t eat.

And what of the ones who waited in vain for their two veg. and their meat?

Why didn’t the home help come with a meal prepared and cooked?

Maybe the agency thought that these ones were the dead on their books.

I work for free in my home, 24 hours a day. I have to balance the tiniest budget without any breaks or sick-pay.

Private sector employees who struggle for minimum wage in their pocket

don’t get to lie, scheme or juggle and then claim they’re a not-for-profit.

A confidential investigation? Why not just call the guards?

Why send a nurse on this mission, shouldn’t she be working the wards?

Yet more of the same from this Irish isle: Save the banks, save all of the crooks,

save these grave-robbers and all of their kind while we pay to examine their books.

It makes me wonder, meals for the dead.

HSE blunders, their claims of no beds.

Could it simply be that they don’t know the amount

because the investigating nurse is the one who can count?

(Explanation: The HSE has carried out two confidential investigations into not-for-profit organisations. This particular case involved a home help agency that received €1.7m from the HSE to match the amount of people it claimed to be serving, including the dead ones.

Inspired by: http://www.independent.ie/national-news/elderly-clients-on-homehelp-firms-list-dead-for-four-years-3282193.html#disqus_thread )

I Wish I Was A Ferret

I wish I was a ferret but not just any one,

I’d like to be from Spain and then from Castellón.

I’d like to have a contract for my ideal work

and I’d like to get my meals there as a little perk.

Did you know that they’re crepuscular? Ferrets are like owls

but they can use their anal gland if it gets too loud.

So much fun to be a ferret with the job security

working in Valencia for the air authority,

sleeping 18 hours and working with a smile

in the shadow of a gobshite standing tens of metres high.

Sorry, Carlos Fabra, if this seems like an indictment:

Ferrets do the weasel war dance when there is excitement.
And, finally, one more before asking for forgiveness:
The collective noun for ferrets is indeed a business.

(Explanation: Local Castellón Populist Party politician, Carlos Fabra, spent years and a fortune building his personal project, an airport in the Valencia region of Spain. In 2011 it was ready for action. To date, it has had zero action except for that of the ferret crew whose €600,000 contract began before the airport was due to open in order to have pests like rabbits and pigeons under control before landings and takeoffs would commence.
Inspired by:http://www.psmag.com/business-economics/airport-to-nowhere-spains-costly-no-fly-zone-39797/ )

Child Benefit Stole My Child’s Allowance

Child Benefit?
Benefit?
Are my children on the dole?
Re-introduce it
then reduce it
while you share the pot of gold
to cover all the asses
of financial institutions
so the bankers can keep banking
on your generous contributions.

Michael Noonan, did you know
that you were once a child?
Someone had to care for you
......once upon a time.
Were you loved and helped and taught and hugged,
fed well and regularly?
Would you have had your primary carer treated
the way you’re treating me?

In came the doctor,
in came the nurse,

out came the baby to no money in the purse.

         The BlogMarch continues tomorrow at At The Clothesline
           with a personal and detailed account of how a cut in Child Benefit 
                                     would affect this family:  
                  Stuck In The Middle- No To Child Benefit Cuts

                     
10 posts over 10 days from 10 members of The Irish Parenting Bloggers.


And on we march:

Day 3  (Wednesday 10th):   Mind The Baby
Leave child benefit alone. Tax maternity benefit instead.         

Day 4  (Thursday 11th):       Dreaming Aloud
Down to the Bare Bones' - Cutting (the fat of) Child Benefit        

Day 5  (Friday 12th):          Mama Dynamite
HANDS OFF MY CHILDREN'S ALLOWANCE       

Day 6  (Saturday 13th):       Kate Takes 5
Won't get fooled again              

Day 7  (Sunday 14th):         Wholesome Ireland
Let Them Eat Cake 

Day 8  (Monday 15th):       Meetmums
March Against Cuts to Child Benefit

Day 9  (Tuesday 16th):        The Serious Wagon
That's Fighting Talk
 

Day 10 (Wednesday 17th):  Mama.ie
You do the maths!     

And a blog of support from abroad from Awfully Chipper
Blog Marching


You can sign the online petition here.
You can use hashtag #BlogMarch.
You can read, think, discuss anywhere.

The Irish Parenting Bloggers are great writers and each post on the BlogMarch is the blogger's own view. Enjoy!