Before Morning Breaks
   Theres a time before the dawn,before the first spark of the sun weakly glows
    Its the time your not sure if your awake or still in sleeps dreamy  flows

    You open your eyes and a merger of thoughts, fears, and hopes rush in
Ideas, memories , regrets,people, loves.Theres some you  lose theres some you win

       As another spark of light , maybe two, emerges, begining to speed making its mark
The suns rays still have not won the  everlasting daily battle of brightness and dark

      Your head begins to settle down it begins to rationalise the truths and the fakes
        But still the dark is in it's zenith, in control. its still the time before morning breaks

       Now the Sun begins to fill the dark hidden corners of your mind and  room.
       You move your ladened  head  and begin see the glowing rays of early morning loom

        The thoughts that were running through your mind seem to scatter from the light
        As if afraid that it may revel the secrets that are best pondered in the dark of night
                       Pat Rooney 2013..

Rich people like letters, poor people do not.
They bring profit to the haves, despair to the lost.
Rich people love blood, they buy it like bread.
The rest must sacrifice it on the altar of their dead.
Rich people sing songs of  summer and day light.
The losers  have dirges that are whispered at night.
This is the way  of the peoples that inhabit
a world unbalanced , shared  by  lions and rabbits.
Will the axis ever  turn,  will the  unbalanced be balanced.
or will we stay like we are  the ways never challenged
    Pat Rooney 2014

Saturday  Afternoon

Im sitting in a pub drinking coffee
Theres a big crowd already in
Most of the boys are drinking Guinness
Except for an old doll drinking gin.

There's horse racing starting  on the tv
and the guys start reading the form
The noise is starting to get louder
The bar 's starting to get warm.

I can see that the guys aren't winning
You can tell by the sound of their sighs
But theres a fast horse starting to run now
Their moneys on at sixes and fives

The ***** is starting to work good
Its doing its usual routine
The old girl is starting to drop off
And the guys are begining to sing

Its just a usual ***** Saturday
Like the ones that went by before
A weekend of drinking and gambling
Finish your drink and away out the door.

I dont know why I'm sitting down here
Theres nothing at all here for me
Except some long gone memories
and a want for how things used to be.

So i rise and finish off my cold coffee
And head for my house down the street
A want in my guts for a cold beer
And a shot of  strong whiskey drank neat
           Pat Rooney 2013

Im looking for a midnight rainbow
        coloured black and blue
        With a little bit of golden light
         peeking shining through.
         Im looking for a midnight rainbow
          coloured black and blue
          And when i go and find one
           Im gonna put it in a glass box
            And bring it on home to you
         Because your arms pulled me
         from the dark  dark tunnel
         of despair. and your eyes  carved
          a heart around my soul
                  Pat Rooney 2013

I was always lonesome even in a boozers bar
The boozers  seemed  forever to be  in another room
I could never really be in that room with them, I'm always on the edges
The voices sometimes were sweet kind , friendly,like good mood music,
But the mood music turns hard, ugly,  coated in a grey gloom.
Happiness is quickly overtaken and grabbed by its neck and sent to its doom.
Im on the edges in a crowd laughing, talking like the rest, but my voice my sounds are not heard.Im  alone in a boozers bar
   Pat Rooney 2014

The Bottle
The devils  in the bottle
are forever trying to get out
And when the cork is open
They slither sweetly down your mouth                            

At first they taste like honey
sweet strawberries and cream
A taste of sunny summer days
Forever etched in your dreams

Slowly they get your attention
they are heading for your soul
and after many glasses drunk
They have you in their hold

Their taste has now gone sour
like milk thats putrid and thick
But still you got to have them
You've been conned by their trick

Oh the devils are in the bottle
its pure hell to put them back
if you ever get the cork back on
you can climb down of the rack
  Pat Rooney 2013

Hard to say goodbye,  harder to say hello.
Hard to stay at home, harder to  walk and go.

Hard to take a drink, harder to put it down.
Hard to fake a smile, harder to stop a frown.

Hard to feel alone, harder to join the crowd.
Hard to speak down low,  harder to cry out loud.

Hard to tell a truth, harder to speak a lie.
Hard to be alive, harder to stop and die.

    Pat Rooney 2014

Loneliness is a pain,
Not the pain of a knife cutting through skin, sinews, muscles,and drawing blood.
Not the pain of a tooth in your mouth throbbing and sending shocks of horrors through highways of swollen nerves..
Not a fatal pain of a dying cell being devoured by a cancerous growth that thrives on the death and the pain of the very cells that produces its been.
Not the pain of the prisoner s body been tortured by men who see no wrong or feel no shame as they insert sharp hot instruments into natural and man made orifices in their captives helpless, hopeless bodies.
Not the pain of age as the body's functions start their natural march towards unreliability , Hips, knees knuckles, elbows and all the other joints as they  begin to slowly dry up and rub  against each other like stones rolling down a hillside.
Not the pain of hearts slowing, livers hardening,lungs wheezing like ripped accordians bellows .
Not the pain of childbirth.
Not the pain of accidents that show no fairness to the person in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Not the pain of self inflicted wounds that can fool you into thinking that that pain is the answer to your  problems.
Not the pain of the young healthy times when the body, and mind  could accept it and overcome it
  Not the pain of hunger or thirst.

Loneliness is the pain of the soul .
Loneliness is the pain of dreams that are dreamt when your asleep and when you'r awake.
Loneliness is the pain of memories . Some half  forgotten some that are so clear you could almost touch them.
Some you'd rather forget.
Some you would spend the rest of your life reliving over and over again.
Loneliness is the pain that  at times can be part relieved momentarily  through the bottom of a whiskey bottle or a point of a syringe filled with a concoction of juices from plants poisonous to both the body and the soul.
Loneliness can never be cured by earthly things. Loneliness is a pain that can only find peace through a kinderd spirit.
   Pat Rooney 2013

A Queen Proteas uprooted
and left South African clay
She  floated on a wind of love
and  arrived  a full bouquet

Black, red, white and pink
were the colours of her bloom
And all these  leaves and petals
she shared, her natural perfume