So who do you think are
Picking the potato’s and
Washing dishes at your
Local cafe, not the Irish
I’ll be telling you, so next
time you open your gob
to insult an immigrant be
aware that it was we dug
up the streets in London
because they’ve no spuds
it was all chips over there.

When I was young lad I
had print marks on my
back every morning by
poorly stitched seams
of flour bag bed sheets.

We went barefooted to
school and I can tell you
that t’was many a thistle
of pins and needles got
to go in between our toes.

Later on in life in London
it was scars and scrapes
from shovels and picks &
the Friday night fights and
drunk til Monday morning.

But now an age of wisdom
no anaesthetic of my youth
to **** the stain of a useless
life, a tattoo of pain transfers
in my mind, but it’s invisible!

Unlike the gigantic mountains
and sprawling urban areas of
our universe, oceans have no
aquatic peripheral alternatives.

Rivers brooks canals even the
infant streams are lured to the
metropolis of water and just as
fish or lobsters they are snared.

Kahlil Gibran’s “Fear” shivers
on the shingle before entering
into the vast catchment of sea,
where ships are unable to exit.

There are no off-ramps, nor, any
overflows once one is committed
to Poseidon, and his perimeters.
But, some escape, by evaporation!

Metaphorical
Dublin Spire Punctures London
Millennium Dome

gz, AA meetings
on the strip and
could you blame
them for taking
up drink. Would
you look at what
Ronan Tynan the
Irish tenor said at
the mere thought
of having a Dew
neighbour, t’was
all over the news.
**** me, if I was
a Palestinian sure
I’d be *******
big time living by
those scary noisy
evil **** *******.

There are no priests left
in Gaza, those that were
have been killed by Dews
or must we say Sighonists?

What do woke politically
correct use, considering
that we must endeavour
not to be anti - semantic.

Quite out of the
question to quit.

Don’t be hushed
or brushed aside.

Words can never
be arranged to fit.

Attn: Conor McGregor & President Trump

I am a 74 year old homeless Irishman, I have hypothyroid cortisol issue, heart failure and generally, failing health. Regarding the immigrants (and rants) I have no opposition to people of any race creed or culture settling here. If the Irish are prepared to permit
The English into the country after 800 years of subjugation, humiliation, deportation, excommunication and famine, then they should not be anti Blacks Indians or Arabs. Let us be honest, the Irish took on all of Britains inherited hatreds, even of Russia.
We are a tea drinking nation that insists of chips at Indian and Chinese restaurants. Ireland is a narrow minded nation, in bred and
insular. Yesterday I was at the Patricks Day Parade in Ballincollig Cork and saw Black Children with Shamrock, wonderful, I say.

Brain Cogs

When someone refers to
brain cogs turning it hails
from the Descartes quote
of 1650 Cogito Ergo Sum.

Brain Fogs

This term came much later
from the English physician
called James Tunstall 1850
Cogito Ergo Sum ****** up.

Feeling Ratchet

A misconceived metaphor
from an Irish philosopher
called Finn Mac Eoin, it is
often misspelt as in Rat ****.

Writers, Journalists, Poets
beware of those whom you
critique, cajole, or condemn
the end of the word is coming.

Equality is a rocket launcher, in
the hands of people in bare feet.

For how long more must
Mother Russia gestate

Perhaps it’s time for her to
have a Caesarean section

Let us unwind the womb
and see this famous foetus

Might it be a Tzar or it may
well be yet another Empress

We are glad, because it was
Vlad, Godly sent to save us.

It would be a rare day, in
Ireland, for Nimbus to be
invited to a picnic in the
park, unless, it promised
to let its shadow at home.

“If Cleopatra was Irish she
  would be still alive today”


Saint Patrick

17th March 432 AD.
County Down
Hibernia.

Food is a democracy
majorities will always
vote for a mediocrity.

It is the year of the
$nake  in  America
U.K China & Israel.

It was today in AD
432    Saint Patrick
rid Ireland of them.

The pregnant ASP
he sent to England
gave birth to a   W.

SHHhhhhhhh

Speke      eezy
the    sin     sir
light    is     on
in         Lisbon

.        SUBJECT         .

The editor and I had
a falling out over the
title so I self published.

At the book launch it
was assumed to be a
dyslexic typing error.

In hindsight I should’ve
taken his advice & called
it  “ Low Shelf Esteem “.

The day I ran out of ink
I had to memorise two
poems, but I did find a
spot to write them down.

One was a Limerick that
I fingered on the back of
a Bus Éireann, under the
Red Setter, going to Cork.

The other was a Haiku in
seventeen syllables which
I scribed on beach sand @
Ahakista by Sheep’s Head.

The brain is a bowl of
spaghetti in a maze

A labyrinth of Hamas
mesmerising tunnels

Creativity sans secrecy,
impossible said Camus

Cogito ergo sum is how
Descartes explained it

But a slip of the tongue
is no fault of the mind

Providing you have not
gone & forked things up!

The French were a bit more
sophisticated, the guillotine
less brutal & more accurate.

My work has been censored,
the majority of it’s been axed
then burned, like Joan of Arc.

I don’t drink PG Tips but I’ve
been told the three monkeys
club is where I am being sent.

How can anyone be so dumb as
not to achieve a lifetime ambition.

Samuel Beckett said fail, fail again,
fail better, one must never give up.

I have got a mares tail cloud, with a
red sky in the morning sunrise, on
my right thumbnail, it’s set in the left.

La Retraite

I was never rostered
by the rooster so there
is nothing alarmingly
different dans le matin
because I was always
up before the hens.

But unlike most people
who retire and cancel
the alarm settings on
their clocks I have no
such luxury as life in a
camper Van is deci belli.

When by the railway it
is two hoots rat a rat tat
by the sea it’s the gulls
wuff wuff from traffic
wind near the motorway
and refuse trucks in town.

Find a place to shave and
sheet and shower and to
wash clothing somewhere
to busk for fuel and food
somewhere to park out of
shadows for solar panels.

And Winter, all changes dark
at 4pm cover on windscreen.
Mornings cold as a dogs nose,
stiff with the rheumathism of
nights inactivity and beneath this
frosted stratosphere a liquid silence.

How much water would we
preserve if taps were marked

How many bird’s would
survive if cats wore bells

How many people would be
welcome if we had empathy

How many lives would be
spared if Israel was an island

You can cast me in
shadow, silhouette
me in silence, steal
my limelight, but a
stain, is the spilled
reflection of ethos !

Oct, sept Mosque’itoes
  bit Isreali Gnats’is not
    kosher ham in ***

Ireland was/is the only
white nation in history
to be colonised & they
imposed their language.

But we took all of their
racism, prejudices and
dislikes without forcing.

This is why we despise
Blacks Russians Arabs
Chinese & Indians, but
we love the P.O.M frites.

We have the audacity to
demean the culture and
cuisine of the latter two
by insisting (as our past
masters do) on portions
of chips with curry & rice.

What a disgusting insult
how embarrassing it is too.

Go to McDonald’s I say &
ask them for a pair of  \/

They will tell you **** off.

A country without a tongue
is a country without a taste.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Adrift for over fifty years,
feeling like a bit of debris
washed up on the shore
just waiting to be pickled
up by the beachcombers.

Discarded into a blue refuse
tidy-town bag aborted by a
cruel sea or disabled *****
in a clear knotted ******
looking at the hungry gulls.

O
Zelensky had a pipe dream
he turned Russian gas off in
one, and he blew up another.

O
Putin had a pipe dream too,
a night-mare for Zelensky, a
trojan horse without any legs.

Boom bust barometer
just pulled in its horns
retreating to the shell.

Whale oil beef hooked
Brits are going down
the tubes bearings lost.

Karma always comes to
the evil ones, Isreal will
be next, god bless Allah.

We have a meandering
system we humans, our
intestines galavant, but
Paul Cezanne observed,
there’s no straight lines
in nature, a snake coils.

But what about Russian
Spartans crawling along
the belly of a Trojan pipe.
100 warriors 4 days 16km
single file, eating toileting
sleeping in secret silence.

A feat of gigantic genius
super imaginative simply
outstanding, Babuscha’s
womb the only metaphor
to describe a conception so
immaculately miraculous.

I am not the square
on the hypotenuse
cogito ergo sum one
of the one’s opposite?

From light into darkness,
soft sand to a coral reef
warm house in Provence
to a camper van in Ireland.

C’est ma vie, when things
begin to get easy I want to
run away into a difficult, or
even a hostile environment.

******* septuagenarian
skylarking in the clear air
searching for the cumulus
congest-us, of inclemency.



Ps
The term in Alcoholics
Anonymous for this is
“Doing Geographicals”

Sometimes I feel as if
I am in a queue at my
own funeral, it is why
I expect, that we walk
more slowly when we
get older, but today,
for some reason, the
fellow in front of me
stopped and checked
Google map, I thought
he knew the way to hell.

Tempus Fugit

At the time motion convention there
was a contradictory debate between
the four foremost known authorities.

The concept of a permanently wound
world and the accuracy of a sun dial
was hastily abandoned by everyone.

Pendulum was adamant that if a clock
had no hands it would better serve its
purpose only past / future exist no now.

Plumb Bob otherwise known as the slob
said that he had never heard of anything
so preposterous as now is all that exists.

Tether Ball was of the same mind as that
of Pendulum's lateral thinking process &
accused Plumb Bob of being a lay about.

Yo-Yo was a vertical thinker taking Bob’s
side saying that current and present are
two dimensions of now at separate levels.

The meeting concluded without resolution,
a second debate is being scheduled but no
time or date as it would prejudice the topic.

They intimidated I
was oughtistic but
I never lived up to
their expectations
despite plagiarism
of the palindrome
supposedly written
by a dyslexic idiot

I can recall when water
buds clung to bare limbs.

Later they evaporated &
sprouting pips appeared.

Between the first leaves a
flower elbowed it’s way up.

Then along came the bees
and an occasional butterfly.

Suspended by an umbilical a
crab slowly became a pomme.

From green to yellow & then
a blushing red, turned to ***.

Ants got wind of the sweetness
first peck of an inquisitive crow.

But Newton fcuked it for everyone
worm apple, just fell down, below.





                          Q

I have lived in a fear,
that I’d best explain-
lest somebody out there,
can feel the same pain.

I had fear of my teachers
because they called me a fool
and of missionary preachers
who once called to the school.

I was in fear of my father
though not of my mother
I had a fear of my sister
and, of, one brother.

I had a fear of the Garda
they are known as Siochana
I had a fear of damp houses
of draughts and bad karma.

I had a fear of door knockers
And each telephone call
and of stamped addressed
envelopes, found in the hall.

What more can I say about
about a lifetime of fear
I don’t have it of heights
and that became clear.

Though would you believe it
I feared the female
But with help of a Guinness
It was a hurdle I could scale.

Fearing no more heat of the sun,
is what Billy Shakespeare said,
but I’ve melanoma, on the hand,
& spots on my craggy forehead!

Was Saint Patrick
  an immigrant a
migrant or refugee.

If he arrived here
today would he be
met with such glee.

We got Palestinian
  Arabs who also
     had to flee.

We have Indians &
blacks because our
   Saorstat is free.

            <>
      
Poem for all who
come here to find
a safe haven.

.                            o
A Yo-Yo goes up   and down
                                                  o
It can dance on a line like a oiseaux

There is no in between

Because the word’s Philippine

And it doesn’t mean go, but oh come oh

Lines Are Tied To A Page
==================
laces are tied to shoes
roots are tied to trees
leaves are tied to limbs
streams are tied to rivers
houses are tied to poles
trains are tied to tracks
phones are tied to boxes
fish are tied to tackle
chimneys are tied to smoke
kites are tied to strings
tenants are tied to tithes
oceans are untied, tides
yet, knots are nautical !!

I have gone beyond the
threshold of a profound
pain, not of the physical,
no, the one that kills you.

But I am here, past three
score and ten fighting on
against the relentless foe.

Demons are the nocturnal
enemies chameleons by a
diurnal definition which in
my war, metamorphosed.

I had never read The Big
Issue, yet, I purchased
scores of them, so what
does that say about me?

Perhaps I should add that
I bought Ulysses and tried,
but I also published a book
that I never even proof read.

Well here I am 74 years old
and homeless, no shelves,
no electricity lost my glasses,
sitting on a copy of, something.

I can buy them a coffee
I can share my time but
I’m unable to give hope.

I can take poetry out of
poverty & defend them
with its power, in prose.

But I cannot do any more
I can’t even adopt a dog,
because I too am homeless !

M’Aidez     is     Everyday

Not every body listening
are able to speak French,
it depends on which side
of the channel one is on.

But imagine if you drifted
into Irish territorial waters.
Cuidigh liom Cuidigh liom
CAN YOU REPEAT. OVER!

Yes I can draw the
curtains, go foetal,
but the moon will
know where i’m at.

When I’m traversing
between future and
past just as a tennis
ball is batted too and
fro at the Wimbledon
tournament where the
echoes are silenced, I
try in vain to raise the
net stop play and catch
thoughts momentarily,
but as I am competing
against an eternal rally,
Echart Tolle and I loose.

Welcome to Ireland.
Sorry we are unable
to converse in your
language and please
don’t even attempt to
speak to us, in ours.

We don’t understand
that either, you know.
So you have as much
right to be here as we
do,Tir Gan Teanga is a
country with no name.

Hibernia is a Roman
Latin title, our poets
prefer Erin go Bragh.
Eire, call it what you
want, it won’t make a
bit of difference to us.

Tuair dom do lamh
And of course with
A cead mile failte I
Will share my hearth.

Suig sios agus lig do
Scith cois na tine and
Hang out your flag to
Wave in the Irish gale.

Bienvenue,  always a
Place for one more on
Indian trains or on the
Postage stamp of Gaza.

Ireland is nearly empty
We fled the the 40 shades
For greener pastures there’s
Room here thanks for coming.