The melting *** and rolled up snot,
gathered,
underneath the tables.

That old high stool,
that graced this fool,
was winning,
willing,
always able!

A tender ear,
tendering!
with his shillings for a smile.
That tenderness, he always sought,
but was never! gonna find.

The dreams that seemed so reachable,
always after one more glass.
The moments that he longed for,
moments that had long since passed.

Every man must faulter.
Live in the shadows,
shadows cast.
Those moments that he longed for,
hidden,
  lost upon his path.

Someday we will be strong enough,
to right the wrongs that we made wrong.
Someday we will be whole again,
with all the birds and all their songs.

Those evanescent visions ,
that seem to seep through all thats done,
waiting like a blade of corn,
reaching, leaning to the Sun.

The light, long there before our breath,
before the things that we regret.
Shining then and shining now
shining before we knew how.

How to deal with right or wrong?,
sitting underneath that Sun.
One of many,
our Sun  it shines!,
as we all try to define.
One of many,
let it burn!
Cosmically,
as we all learn.

Sat here with the clock
and its tickety tock.
There's holes in my heart
and holes in my socks.
The wallpaper peels,
reveals wallpaper from,
two decades before,
when we were still young.
Now aged with the years,
covered over in time.
Lost to the new,
lost to our eyes.
Its beauty, still present,
so I peel back some more.
Listen to records
and lie on the floor.
The ripples of smoke
swirling to the ceiling
kinda portrays
the way that I'm feeling.
Floating around
always lost to it all.
My mood just like wallpaper
can rise and can fall.

The mist lifts slowly,
like the darkness outside.
Light then returns,
bringing sight to the eyes.
The flow of the Liffey,
calm like the breeze.
That runs with my thoughts,
out into the sea.
Into the bay,
out past Howth Head.
Thinking of people,
some breathing, some dead.
The heroes, the villains,
the loved and the scorned.
In Dublin city,
all have been born.
In Dublin's fair city.
Alive, alive-O!

Hold me as I sleep tonight,
kiss me as I slip away.
Deep within the the realms of dreams,
lie with me and end today.
Pray for me and my poor soul,
but know I love you more each day,
I'm sorry for the hurt and pain,
sorrier that I can't stay.
That darkness that has followed me,
has failed to bring those brighter days.
I'm sorry that we ever met!,
sorrier that I cant stay.

I've a feeling I've been at war before,
but I couldn't say which one.
I sometimes hear the rattle,
the chorus of the gun.

Its resonates inside my dreams,
I own a different face.
Still I have a feeling
my soul was at this place.

Where children on the street are crying,
some don't cry at all.
Bodies in the rubble,
far to young to fall.

Upon the reign, the greed of men,
the power that they crave.
The forgotten leaves of autumn,
fall softly on their graves.

A part of me remembers,
the horror and the pain.
Fighting for the right to live
crying in the rain.

In some trench, under some flag,
a long long time ago.
Those forgotten comrades,
dying in the snow.

It's those forgotten comrades now,
in my dreams they glow.
Those lost forgotten comrades,
dying in the snow.



#WAR  #DREAMS

As the night collapses to the dawn of a new day,

I start to feel the seasons changing,

Mother Nature rearranging,

for now in gentle sways.



And as my bones lie weary,

maybe tired from the fight?

I can feel my body aging,

old thoughts and fears all rearranging.

As summers birds take flight.



So now with the Autumns harvest,

the seeds we failed to sow.

I can feel a yearning,

and life with all its learnings.

Life with all its learnings,

must surely help us grow.

Time, who knows where it goes?,

What lies in the midst of yesterday?

Maybe tomorrow is today on some unparallel plain,

reliving all the things we did yesterday - today.

What do we get out of time?, and

do you make it all worthwhile?,

do we use it wisely?

For once a moment is used,

it is used and gone forever.

Or is it?

Maybe on this plain at least.

The Shaman cries,
the light has died,
he felt it as it left his bones.
He watched it fading from his eyes,
lost to a world where no one knows.

And as he lies down in the grass,
he sheds a tear for mother earth,
Reflects on what has come to pass,
then wonders, prays, for her rebirth.

Shall it all come right next time,
or was it just to test our souls?.
Were we never meant to shine?
before we got to break the mould.

    Before the world was bought and sold.

“There were trees there once”, he said,
as his youngest grandson looked out across the barren landscape
that went on for miles and miles before his innocent eyes.
“And animals and birds too” he continued.
“Like the ones I’ve seen on the screen?”, asked the child.
“Or the ones Momma swore she once saw in a zoo."

“What were they like?” he quizzed,
without knowing the pain and sorrow
that rested in his old grandfathers heart.

“They were beautiful child, beautiful and free,
but the greed of our kind could not let them be.
The greed of mankind was a terrible thing."

“And will they come back? "asked the boy, with hope in his eyes,
as his grandfather rose, looking up to the skies.

“Only God knows my boy, only God knows”.
"If the sea returns blue child,
then only God knows"

Sitting still with twilight
high above the Celtic Sea.
Not a soul to stir my thoughts,
each one on its own with me.
Sitting by the old grey stones,
among the lost forgotten graves.
Not a soul to stir my thoughts,
gazing down upon the waves.
Each one replaces the one before,
new life making old life's passing,
easier as you mourn
New life makes old life's passing,
easier when it's sore

Free as fire, left to burn.
Sweet desires churn and churn.
Inside our hearts, our vacant minds
As the blind lead on the blind.
Through the puzzles, mazes deep.
Searching for the truths we keep
Messages that fall through lucid dreams,
nothing's ever as it really seems.
Messages stitched in every moment.
Remember your the only one who owns them.

So the school bags are gone.
Summers sweet songs,
sweeps through the village,
the Sports Day is on.
The egg and the spoon,
the three legged race,
Mrs McGinty ends up on her face.
The children delight
a comical sight,
her legs in the air
those old tartan tights.

Those days,
that simplicity,
the little things, that stay with me.
Those clear skies,
I remember still,
the easiness
and sweet free will.

I want to help humanity
yet I can't even help myself.
A child born to this greedy hell.
A product of this hungry race.
Where to take has been made easy,
without question, without words.
Taught to grab, without thought,
from a dying world.

I want to find humility,
a voice that rings with truth.
A truth that sings in everyone
deep within our roots.
Deep within the eyes that see,
the thoughts that form our words
I want to live where we are free,
in a brand new world.

On St.Michael's layline,
a dozen miles from Dingles coast.
This was where young Luna May
was to meet the Holy Ghost.
High upon the rocks of Skellig,
awoken by the angry waves.
The ground beneath began crumble
opening the ancient graves.

The ocean calmed,
as angels fluttered,
danced and sang beside the sea.
Young Luna May just watched in wonder,
shedding tears of disbelief.
She checked her pulse and shook her head
cryed out loud "how can this be?".
Blessed herself before she fell,
gracefully onto one knee.
She looked up to the skies above,
eyes filled with fear
and filled with love.
The clouds gave way to brilliant light
and she could sense that God was near.

She asked "why have you chosen me,
what is it that I can do?"
This is when the Ghost appeared
forming from the morning dew.
It led her up the ancient steps
Clasped her hand,
yet she felt free.
Sat her down upon the grass
kissed her gently on the cheek.

As it did, her life went flashing,
like lightening bolts before her eyes,
thunder roared inside her soul,
as she slowly realized.
"Am I here because I've wondered?,
doubted all I felt within"
This is when the Ghost would speak,
telling her "doubt is no sin,
all you need, has always been".
"All you need, has always been".

Then suddenly..........
her eyes shot open,
jolting upright in her bed.
This is when she was to realize,
"I've spent too long living dead.........
Then with grace she was to realize,
"I've spent too long in my head."

Sunflowers,
growing tall,
bringing life to that dull wall.
Reaching up towards the Sun,
flowering for everyone.
Bringing seeds and oil to harvest,
paintings from a demented soul,
the kind of one who falls the hardest,
upon life and everyone.
Nature coursing through the madness
bringing new light with the dawn,
but every star is stalked by darkness
making it shine all the more.
Until its flame is quenched by powers
A force much stronger than us all.
We'll just sit and watch the madness,
and those Sunflowers by the wall.

That mist on the Mississippi,
lay heavy,
like those angels tears.
That brought a flood of silence
whispers falling on deaf ears.
People being trodden on,
like pebbles on the strand.
The poor old Mississippi.
A slave,
just like all those men.
Working, ladden on the barges,
the steamboats and the trains.
All for one
and none for all,
seems to be the way.
There's 99% out there,
just waiting for their day,
yet still that 1%, it seems
always get their way.
All the sweat, the blood,
the tears, shed down through the ages.
Can't be found in old books bound,
their history or fables.
That history, which the victor writes
on those blood stained pages.
Make us grateful,
for this life,
grateful for these wages.

99% My friends,
surely we are Able?..........................

Upon the fields of Ulster,
the Druid Cathbad long had passed.
He left his knowledge to a few,,
and all but one, had long since passed.
The secrets of the land and nature,
secrets from those sacred souls.
Sewn, into fields of wonder,
then to rest with him alone.

Born under skies of roaring thunder.
A child that always walked alone.
Found his way to silence,
found a way to be at one..
Those days amongst the flowers,
the trees and all that breathes with truth.
T'was there he found a way to live,
somewhere to seek out the roots.
The knowledge that was planted,
bringing fruit to a hungry heart,
was where he met old Cathbad,
this is where it was to start.

And so the years of learning
followed like a growing wave.
The Alchemy and Healing,
wisdom from an ancient age.
The reasons why it's worth to try,
the light that lights the day.
Those teachings, some they came with grace,
and some they came with pain.
And then he was the only one,
the last one to remain.
A Druid under stubborn skies,
crying in the rain.

Inhale.....,
Exhale.....,
The holy grail,
is deep within your mind.
Breath In....,
breath out....,
dont scream or shout,
seek and you shall find.

Sitting on the ancient hill,
where High Kings once were crowned.
The Stone of Destiny in light,
thats sometimes lost and found.
Then the Sun it rises, bringing sight,
to tired eyes.
That Star that burns
for all of us,
shining in the morning sky.
Guiding some to madness,
others to a shadowed truth.
On The Hill of Tara,
reconnecting with our roots.