If Your Dad Ever Decides To Do Your Family Tree - Shoot Him

I've a funny feeling it was eighty eight,
The sun never shone, the rain, never late.
We rented a house in the county of Clare,
For fun on the beach and lots of fresh air.

Two small city kids were some novelty
But for us it was nothing but child cruelty.
Cause there's one bloody thing I'll never forget
And thinking of it gives me a cold sweat.

Its staring out the car window not giving a fuck,
I'd have eaten the arse off a low flying duck.
We saw ruins and forts and chevaux de frises
And loads of old churches just lying in pieces.

But they're not the things that still give me the willies
As we sat dumb in the car like two mute silly billies.
We should have screamed loud and just smashed up our seat
Till our despot chauffeur would have admitted defeat

But me and my sister were such good mannered kids
And I've no doubt were bribed by the promise of quids,
Or at least a Club Orange from in the next shop,
Then had our face stuffed with a nice lollipop.

But it cant be right that your childhood's been stole
And the back seats been moulded by an eight year olds hole.
North, south, east and west we bumped over the roads,
I don't know the right distance but I'm sure it was loads.

To old men with no teeth and no toilet too,
We thought we'd been taken to some strange sort of zoo
And crusty old farmers living over the hills.
Jesus just thinking of it is giving me chills.

For days upon days and week after week,
It seems total weirdos was all that my father would seek
And then there's the graveyards with grass full of tics,
While my friends all at home went off to the flicks.
Tombs, headstones and plots of distant dead people,
The death knell of my childhood rang out from the steeple.

Family fucking trees, I could not care less,
When it causes young children so much god damn stress.
I really don't care if in eighteen 0 two,
Paddy Mc Flaherty died trying to poo.
I'm sure it was normal with diseases back then
So why look so backwards at these long dead men?

We're all here today and that's really what matters
And I guess my childhood's not quite in tatters.
So spending my summer with my mum and my dad,
I guess I am lucky and I should feel very glad.

'Cause when I'm old and grey with kids of my own,
I can show them this Tree and watch them as they moan
And I'm sure they wont care about my "old person" tales
Of graveyards and farmers and trips through the dales.

While they play on their X-Box and tweet with their mates
And at eight years of age probably going on dates.
We saw the last of old Ireland now long dead and past,
So I guess it was a pleasure cause those days went very fast.

Where in the World???

Where in the world did you go to, my shoulder padded lady
You were my Sunday evening treat, at nine years old and acting shady.
I had no idea what was going on, what all these feeling were
As you quizzed with permed locks flowing, pearled earring’s and mink fur.

I’m not so sure about the mink, my older self hopes not,
I feel that might ruin what we had and now I wouldn't find you quite so hot.

I read that you’re happily married, 4 babies and a successful career
It hurts my dignity but I don’t care, I’m jealous it would appear.
I hate Frank fucking McNamara and his stupid piano hands
I wanted to play the drums; chicks dig musicians playing shitty rock in high school bands.
But I never bothered learning so that’s a moot point really and “hate” I guess is a strong word
But tears were shed when news came and you had married was what I’d heard

We could have been the best, the greatest couple of the day, 
I could have been your Miley, sneaking out with Biddy in the hay
Or Derek Davis, greedily eating up Thelma with his leers
His big fat belly crushing her must have brought grown men to tears.
But not me, no my love held strong for you back in 1989
No other girl would stir my eyes away from you, my love divine.

And now that you’re a lawyer, all grown up and working hard for the defence
Maybe you could hear my case, about how my love is still true and so intense
Theresa Lowe you fucking whore why did you wreck my life
Nothing since has filled the hole since you filled my world with strife,
When you walked out on me, there was no runner up prize; it was all or nothing with you
And I got nothing, just confusion in my 9 year old body and I didn't know what to do.

So all I've known since, is self-harm, magic mushrooms and chronic masturbation
And it’s all your fault, you were my one true love, my hope, guide and inspiration
I don’t know if I hate you now but if you decided to leave Frank or if somehow he died
On a fish finger I made him one day in the RTE canteen that I very badly fried.
Yes I’d have to say I’d definitely give you another chance
One more time to love me and in the evening moonlight dance.
We could feast upon each other like two lovers on death row
And know in our hearts how much thanks we'd give to that Sunday evening show
But if again you'd leave me like in nineteen ninety three
I’d hunt you down and cut your head off with an awful wild-eyed glee.
You see, my dear, this isn't a poem about love, loss and regret
Let’s face the facts Theresa it’s a fucking letter filled with threat

You see you've got such a lovely life, with the hubby and the kids
But Franks a fucking gimp and I'm sure that he forbids
All your finest pleasures and the things you think about in your dreams
Like fairy cakes and anal sex that you fill with lustful screams.
So stop the clock and hold the news, Glenroe can fucking wait
I’m sure this is a shock but really it’s just fate
So come along, please get in touch, I’m banned if you recall
The restraining order says 50 feet after that incident at the ball.
But you hair smelled so good, I just had to sniff, I didn't expect to blow my beans
All over your dress, and make a mess with my dick hanging out of my jeans.

So anyway my dear, we must catch up and chat
Please wear your finest shoulder pads, permed hairdo and a hat.
And let’s forget about the things that you might find offensive
Like my previous bad behavior and my suit that’s inexpensive

We’ll settle down, you’ll be my wife and life will be fulfilled
You’ll never think about the kids and I’m sure Frank will rebuild
I think he really loved Gay Byrne, with his big gay sweaty head
And I know you’ll never think of him, when you’re lying in our bed.

Cause as you know I’m not a man to settle for second place
And your head looks so much better when its attached to the rest of your face.
So where in the world have you gone to, my shoulder padded queen?
Lets make this happen, it’s your call, so please, please don’t be mean.

I Cannot Leave the Roman Catholic Church

I want to leave but they've slammed the door.

I want to get out but I can’t anymore.

They’re a shower of thieves and liars and scum

And I won’t march to the beat of their noisy drum.

They won’t listen to me down here on the ground

So why should they dictate from way up on their mound.

They shouted and threatened, roared, thieved and abused

And despite what they preach you’re never excused.

If you speak out of line and show some self-thought,

They’ll attack and deny and to heel you’ll be brought.

In the big UN book about my human rights

There’s a line in this book with some gracious sound bites.

I am free it appears, they have deemed it my choice,

To be religious or pagan, and my freedom’s my voice.

But our ball of corruption have come up with a rule

That denies me this choice like some sort of fool

That can’t think on my own and see what’s so clear

It’s all smoke and mirrors to make division and fear.

So they say I can’t leave but they can’t make me theirs

They won’t get my cash and I won’t say their prayers.

I’ll still feel unwell that my name’s on some list

Saying I’m theirs like that’s why I exist.

But if they’d even listen, if they could just tell

What’s in most of our heads, they’d all fuck off to hell.

The Sailor and the Boat

The Sailor and the Boat

On a cold and wet February morn, In she came, battered, sails all torn.

Her shine was gone, her rudder bashed, It seemed as though her sole was smashed.

But through the wreck the sailor spied, A former glory, once with shoulders wide.

He took a chance, and bought that boat, People laughed, he’s a fool they’d gloat.

He didnt care, he paid no heed, But he wasnt stupid and knew what hed need.

Alot of patience, time and toil, He wouldnt quit, he would stay loyal.

And through the summers long bright days, He kept on smiling while he fought the haze.

For beneath each coat of paint and dirt, He always seemed to hit more hurt.

Another hole, another dent, He began to wonder if hed badly spent.

But as folks forgot and the days drew in, A picture emerged of the good within.

The mast was fixed, and a sail sent high, The crowd drew quiet and stopped there cry.

The bright paint coat and a brand new wheel, Began to make the sailor feel,

Like his choice was good and his hard work paid, He’d be rewarded for the choice he made.

With a brand new boat all shiney and bright, Theyd sail away through the day and night.

Adventures ahead and memories found. This little boat wouldn’t run aground.

And through the work, the sweat and tears, Our little boat never spoke her fears.

For she knew the sailor was the right man, Honest, brave and with a mighty plan,

Who saw the world full of fight and love And would always be watching, close, just above.

Woof

Woof

I am your best friend

But you left me sick, tired and gone.

I could have helped but I would have made a dinner of it

Because you say I am old and cannot learn new tricks.

I am an ugly girl and I fight with cats so I’ve got a bad name.

You like to pull my hair even though I never bit you

And when it rains I get the blame.

If you’re in my house you know you’re in trouble.

Because I am asleep you should let me lie but if you join me,

You won’t wake up with fleas.

But there’s life in me still so I will match you step for step in the midday sun and walk with you through the gates of hell.

You are my best friend

But the more I get to know you, the more I like myself.

Perspective Please

Perspective Please

I’m looking through the bars, from on my heated mat

My eyes can barely open, you’ve let me know I’m just a cat

You left a bowl beside me, but I’m too sick to eat

I’d really like to play with you, but I can’t find my feet.

A lady ran her fingers, like beats along my spine

She laughed how cute my nose was and these big ears of mine.

I forget my mother’s whispers and I haven’t got a name,

And I’m lying in my own mess, too tired to feel the shame.

To be tied into a sack and thrown over a gate

Is to kill or wish me dead. Why would someone feel such hate?

So the next time things go wrong and a partner you should lose,

Know what “dumped” is. And please, spend 2 minutes in my shoes.

The Green Dragon, The Lost Boy and the Flag Beyond the Stars

The Green Dragon, The Lost Boy and the Flag Beyond the Stars
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There was a storm far far beyond the beautiful dark mountains, growing in the air. Lightning crackled. You couldn't see it but you could feel it. Feel its danger. Sometimes it seemed exciting, stupid, but sometimes the destruction it may cause could play on your mind. What if my house got struck by a falling tree? My most valued possession lost forever.

Oh but what if, just maybe that storm never came? Perhaps it might just stay safely behind the cover of the mountains?

Yet then it came and this was no storm we felt, it never was. It came from nowhere one day. One fine and beautiful morning, when the first hint of spring was in the air. A giant, angry, screaming, hissing Green Dragon came and it brought with it the fury and rage and anger that only love and hate and loss can bring. Filled with despair I ran for the cover of my house but it was no use, my house was gone, my protection was lost and inside it everything that i held close. Gone. Never to return.

Only sitting. Nothing else to do, I sat and sat some more. Sometimes my eyes were open and sometimes closed. I wished for anything, nothing really. And for how long did I sit? Sometimes I still sit.

Unknown to me, a tiny bird came one day and in a faraway strange voice told me to get up and follow her. She suggested that the life that had been lost inside my house could not be reclaimed, adventures lay ahead and with them I could learn to start again. Grow to believe again. Grow to live again.

She said who knew if that Dragon might return and with it the darkness that it wrought.

And then the tiny bird flew away one day. I thought she would never return.

I waited hoping. After the very depths of my heart called out for her, she returned with hesitation.  She told me to follow, in life we have free will and if her will brought her to fly away she would and that her gift of flight was the greatest gift of all, never take it for granted - we explored like children on a summers evening, fearless and praying that the days would never end. They never did.

Bright lights, mermaids, spacemen and monsters of the seas. We roared through our adventures, to far off ancient castles and through forests filled with talking trees; we ignored the parasitic mistletoe as it tried to poison our ears. Only happiness fell upon us.

High above me all the time in front, brave and strong, keeping watch of the Green Dragon, the tiny bird protects. With flag held high for only me to see, that she is there when storms gather, when darkness grows. She guards me still.