Ego

        is

            an

                 Id

                     iot

Albeit the road less
traveled is the path
I found, what of it.

But for choosing the
wrong direction and
meeting a lost soul
such as I, my destin
would have been the
provenance she fled.

Now we are midway
between nowhere
and somewhere.

While social distancing
is being preached but
not practised, one only
need look at nature for
what they call solutions.

Anti social behaviour
might be a better brand
name than social distancing.

Ants are vertical thinkers
a system the Romans used
to march armies across the
Empire, straight lines, of
which do not exist in nature.

We Irish escaped Roman
colonisation, so we think
laterally, unlike the Ants
who have a more Capitalist
attitude to their Modus
Operandi. Paddy's are social
and distancing is not in our
nature, we are a butterfly
nation zig zagging our way
through life so we find this
Coronavirus business a bit
of an affront, the no cross
talking I mean.

Symmetry is in the Cemetery.

We've all had them from time
to time, I often think it is due
to what we consumed the day
previous.

(I never swallow chewing gum)

I say that, because I was highly
amused when Dr.Spock told
Capt. Kirk that Clingons had
been sited around Uranus.

But let us get back to the Asterisk
and the subject at hand, wiping.

Howard Hughes walked through
the interview room to his office,
closed the door and told his secretary
to go and tell the man with the odd
socks, that he got the job?

All a bit ambivalent indeed, but, there
was a method to his madness, because
that particular applicant had shown a
certain inventiveness when confronted
with the problem of a toilet without paper.

It was many the time I resorted to the auld
hand in the sock number myself, so I knew
exactly the meaning of that metaphor.

Each of our fingers has a distinctive role to
play in the anatomy of our lives. Imagine
holding a six pack, thumb and *******,
that same finger which is used to express
the **** analogy when we are expressing our
scorn at someone.

During the war, a man had part of his finger
shot off. His bandaged hand revealed little,
so when a visitor enquired!

" Is it the whole finger " ?

The soldier replied,

No, the one next to it.

I have gone off on a tangent.

So, let's get down to the unwipeable ****
and see can we shed any light on this topic
of the unspokeable.

There is a solution, because not everyone
wears socks or underwear and there is no
sink or tap in the cubicle, perhaps not even
a visible cistern by which one could lift the
lid and have a bed bath.

Worry not, if the deed be already done
because every shoe has a tongue or insole.
The latter is by far the best answer.

Take it out and fold it a spatula form,
then use it as a scraper, the second
one should finish off the job.

Make your way to a hotel or bar and
congratulate your ingenuity with a
double Jameson and a pint of Genius.

When the sexton fell ill,
   **** Smith, as he was
    known, sounded our
    Angelus on the Anvil.

Often, he was accompanied
by pawing on the flagstones
with forelegs, and a chorus
  of nickering in harmony.

Tackle jingled, as anchored
  horses head upped their
nosebags, assuring us that
   it was no doubt, midday!

If, for every action
there is a reaction,

why then does pain
not need an injury?

I often wonder the etymology
of certain words, the reason
they were coined (not minted)
             so to speak.

Imagine a half crown, or better
still, a one pound note with the
Queen’s head on it, and under,
                 it read!

  I promise to pay the bearer
                Nought.

  See, I told you that I could
       write a poem about

              Nothing!

              Isn’t that

            Something

                   ?

Friday In The Forest

The omnivore herbivore
and carnivore went for
a walk in the woods.

They came to a chestnut
tree and saw a squirrel
feasting.

The omnivore said the
squirrel was making
him hungry

The herbivore said that
the nuts were making
him, hungry

The carnivore said nothing
until he came to the river
and saw a fish jump.

That was when Omni
and Herbi deduced
that Carni was a Catholic.

Witnessing The Destruction Of Ego

By Id.

Self looks in the mirror, somewhat
misted by condensation but no need
to worry what could have changed
since yesterday.

Bristle, my man, bristle.

No, no, not infuriation, this is reality
not a thesaurus.

No need to become indignant or even
irritated.

Keep the hackles down.

Don’t take umbrage or become
defensive.

What’s with the prickles there is no
5 O’Clock shadow.

It is designer stubble if you choose
not to wipe the glass and greet The They.



Id. ©
26th Sept 2021.


PS.

Eventually, we all get the faces we deserve.

You're being watched Israel,
the world's beginning to see.

Your vindictiveness is O.D.D.
Oppositional Distain Disorder.

It's juvenile man, you are acting
anti semantic, it's totally illogical.

Nationhood is a state of community
and in many cases, a shared territory.

You not only looked the gift horse in
the mouth, but you pulled all its teeth.

Despite the fact, that "Moshe Dayan" is
the only one of you to have lost an eye.

No matter how one tries,
there is no precision that
will permit, cutting, equal
halves of an apple, due to
the pips. Murphy's Law,
always encourages them to
favour one side of the knife!

|||||||||||||||||


Your wall cast a flowing

tide shadow on our side

of the mutual morning


It grew and grew then

ebbed backwards the

direction it came from


Scaling the masonry,

returning, propagating,

germinating, a nightfall.

We don't have freedom,


                                we are tethered.


What is liberty, a donkey


                     enquires of the zephyr?


Ask Al-Aqsa!


                                      the windmill.

We don't have freedom,


                                we are tethered.


What is liberty, a donkey


                     enquires of the zephyr?


Ask Al-Aqsa!


                                      the windmill.

When we were children, she
said, that if there was enough
blue in the sky to make a man's
shirt, sure, it would be a fine day.

Today, after leaving the hospital,
I watched the clouds shuffle, close
ranks, eliminating any chance for
for her prophecy to come true.


24th November 2018.
Cork University Hospital.

A Perfect Symbiosis


I remember as a wee lad

going out to the front gate

to fetch our delivered milk.


Bottles those days. Their tops

of gold tinfoil had protruding

Braille writing; the date perhaps.


‘Pasteurised’ was embellished

on the glass over Springmount

Dairies, a local bottling company.


It was pints back then and

under the lid for about two

Inches was a layer of the

richest, purest, Irish cream.


One needed to be up before

the hens or risk your bottles

being breached.


Crows beaks were of identical

length to the depth of the cream.


It surely was, a perfect symbiosis.


                   (˚<

As loafed bread progressed
from an initial opposition
to it being sliced, the idea
of promoting each portion
as a petal, ushered in a new
acceptance which could only
be attributed to the Chicago
strike where a verse of a poem
by James Oppenheim titled
" Bread and Roses " was used
by female bakery employees
who were looking for better
working conditions for all.

I have been de briefed, but, I
                  
am not looking for sympathy.
                  
At least not in the “short term”
                  
if I remain on Haulover Beach.

Nobody in their right mind,
    would vote Socialist.

Economic migrants asylum seekers refugee
There are far better places you could be
The weather here is *****
Our cuisine’s not worth the bite
And it’s xenophobic bigot racists you will see

Rod Dimbleby is the

  apostrophe apostle

opposing the apostates

      of apostasies.

A Piece Of Script'

In which the expression of
feelings and ideas is given intensity
by particular attention to diction
(sometimes involving rhyme),
rhythm, and imagery.


ps

POEM

They attract Ants,
mines a QWERTY
and guess what, one
has just gone from the
end of the Q all the
way from left to right,
stopped at the roundabout
after the I, then went for a P.

My computer's,
     a Fruitarian.

I’m a Vegetarian-

So, why do I need
a SPAM detector?

Ó

It was a banquet, a summer
wedding under plum trees.

Long trestles adorned with
evening dressed table skirts.

Lines of L back chairs laced
ribbons balloons with roses.

Red white et bleu candles
burned unevenly quenched.

Wax stains, wine blobs, ash,
lipstick transfer kissed glass.

Place marker, name tag,
wire meshed cork, bottles.

Bunting, well wished cards,
written speech, crumpled.

Fish in shoals, bread in bowls,
lemon fingered watering holes.

Caw winged gleaners, black
tie sophisticates, Corvidae & Co.

22  

So what's the catch?
I'm still waiting for the
penny to drop.

Half time has passed
and the referee has
flipped the coin.

The sun has decided
to continue playing in
the same direction.

I watched the throw in
at approximately 5 am
Central European Time.

The blues were there in
abundance cheering on
the Bon Vivant.

Tomorrow is fools day
another Covid - 19 tale
for the masses no doubt.

Can't say that I am yet
convinced despite MSM
saturation and restrictions.

I am not coastal, but there
is something fishy about
all of this, smelling rats!

Jour de L'ane
en France.
In Ireland, we
say, fools day!

He-Haws is
how they are
often described
by the media.

Bankers, Accountants,
Taoiseach's, Mep's,
TD's, Senators, Clergy,
Speculators,


Cabog's, gobshites,
ignoramuses, mug's,
clowns, jerks, clots,
muggins and cuckoos.

But imagine, the Irish
only dedicate one
day in the year to all
these ****** eejits.

Jour de Poisson
en France.
In the UK they
say, fools day!

He-Haws, is
how they are
often described
by the media.

Bankers, Accountants,
MP's Mep’s, PM’s Royals
Lords, Ladies, Gentlemen
Peers, Toffs, Tossers.


Cabog's, gobshites,
ignoramuses, mug's,
clowns, jerks, clots,
muggins, cuckoos.

But imagine, The British
only dedicate one solitary
day in every year to all
of these ****** eejits.

It is 3 am here in Ireland
just heard the Cuckoo Clock
chime. The reason I am awake
is due to the Folly, dreamt I
had a ****** free ******* and
I was in bed with a female
boxer from Australia who
looked like she had the edge
on me, but it was a false alarm,
just the prostate reminding me
that there is no pleasure to be
had from wet dreams and of
course, the toilet is downstairs,
the computer bleeped, it was
an anonymous email from a
reader who said that my poetry
was like a premature *******
and that I should consider having
a literary vasectomy or else that I
should subscribe to Tras#MeToo.

.
                 Foster-Child

               I can remember
            when I was a wee
           lad, wondering, but
           not enquiring, why
            houses were tied
                 to the poles.

              Years later it was
             requested of me to
            answer my unasked
              question when we
               visited the Millau
              Viaduct in France.


For.
Norman Foster.

^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^

First Venetian recording
of Aqua Alto was Oct 17
AD 589. Without exception,
and to no greater heights,
these precipitations have
continued to occur annually.

This proves that rising sea
levels (which is attributed)
to global warming, is all a
sham. But as history has
revealed, the vast majority
of the world, are dupable.

Down is when there is
nothing left to give up.

Buoyancy is all one can
wish, flood rock bottom.

God giveth no redemption,
rising sea levels just might.

Aquatic Aspiration

              

    I heard it lapping even overlapping

   and in-between each timely rhythm,

              a sequential silence.


       A shy hesitation before the

  next surge of renewed confidence.


A collective gathering of momentum

      for another attempt to break its

             It’s previous record.


But the sunrise din dampened day,

Thalassa’s tidal ambition concedes.


   Mare Nostrum accepts that it's

      virtually a land locked lake.

'The ******'s bread''
was brown with hale,

Rose from the embers
outside the pale.

T'was all they ate for
days on end,

Their flag, their strife,
no wind could rend.

A staff, a standard, a
a nations knead,

A daily rising, is still
our creed.

Famine, fasting, while
some did feast,

Our memories are
stored in yeast.

Not every tree in the
forest gets to grow
tall or vertically has straight
branches and is evergreen.

Not every tree in the
forest has access to
sufficient light to sustain
adequate foliage.

Not every tree in the
forest gets enough
water to irrigate its
root systems

Not every tree in the
forest will be selected
by the lumber jack
for the timber yard

.                 Arbor Master


           No matter where that

          I am I don’t want to be

            the world is a forest

             but I’m not a tree.


            Some they get old

           but stay ever green

          while others go bald

            deciduous I mean.


            One Spruce's up

          to go on a date but

        everyone knows she's

         a Beech always late.


        Ok she’s a Birch two

              timing a Pine

           Holly and Hazel

    had their ears to the vine.


     Cherry Olive is Poplar

      with Lemon and Gum

   but Mimosa’s in love with

Lime Orange & Sweet-Plum.


        Bay Laurel is hardy

      as Hickory and Oaks

    and Redwood is tough

but it’s Teak that make yokes.






Ryan in Sumeg Hungry.

20th August 2023.



The poem begins in the forest

but what it is saying is, trees

(the metaphor for people)

are trapped by their roots or

surroundings ending up in

a harness of their own making

ie The Yoke.

We all get a chance at some
stage in our lives to show
our colours.

Some actually make it to the
end of rainbows, where pots
of gold, are mere metaphors.

Archibald came out with
dreadlocks which were
quickly abbreviated before
the press got wind of it.

Arctic Cathedral

You are a Prism,
You are a Pyramid
You are the peak of the Pole.

You're an Icesosceles Triangle
You are a beacon or a Spike
You are a frosted Toblerone.

You are a Fuji
You are an Aspen
You are an Everest.

You are an Anything
You are a Something
You are an Everything,

You are a Sail
You are a Scale
You are a Chard

You are a Munch
You are an Ibsen
You are Amundsen

You are Nocturnal
You are Diurnal
You are a Star

You are an Icicle
You are a Waterford Crystal
You are a Stalagmite.

You are the Sine
You are the Cosine
You are the Tangent.

You are a Pagoda
You are a Point
You are a Paradox.

You are an Illusion
You are a white Seclusion
You are a Mirage.

You are Ribbed
You are Cribbed
You are Ad-Libbed

You are Algebra
You are Geometry
You are Trigonometry

You are the Alfa
You are the Apex
You are the Anthem

You are Sensual
You are Superb
You are Sublime.

Architecturally Eccentric
Optically Simplistic
Spiritually Divine.










Ps

The Arctic Cathedral is in
Tromso, North Norway.

Google it, it is stunning.
I wrote this whilst sitting
there today.

.               O

It has without doubt a
glacial circumference,
and of course, there’s
a Stygian gloom, under
what appears, snowdrift,
until one tastes it, that is!


                _/

It's a Pint Of Guinness

.                                    Fishte Oazis


          It is where the mammary mountains overlook

                 It is where nature is tickled to a smile

      It is where evergreen shadows tint a pea soup lake

           It is where dawn chorusses are orchestrated

           It is where Cuckoos listen to their own echoes

   t is where House Martins share flies with aquatarians

It is where Golden Orioles share trees with common birds

          It is where Geese and grazing Goats can greet

   It is where Tortoises listen to nocturnal Toad warnings.

It is where vegetarians are vindicated for not eating meat.

          It is where perfection is presented one a plate

          It is where generosity of spirit is not contrived

          It is where I, a wandering nomad felt at home.

Destin ou Provenance
                 ?

First thing a man stops
doing when he begins
to get depressed is he
abandons the ablutions.

The three O’Clock
shadow matures into a
stubble then a beard.

By hiding ones self there
is no need to-see the
reflection, It is foetal time.

Rooms darken, minds dim.

But as in nearly all cases
a rude renaissance occurs.

There is the inevitable baulk of
looking in the silver lined glass
frame without a picture, and
preparing to rejoin the world.

The hot tap is engaged, there
is a rummage around for a BIC.

By the time we are finally
ready to confront ourselves



               (‘>    [#]



                  The mirror
                         has
                 misted over!

An unalarmed life
rostered by a rooster

A solar pendulum
his only time piece

Dawn is an eyelid, raised
daily by an ebbing night

One season is a leaf with
wings, others differ noticably

Our pasts and our futures are
provenance to destination on

Trains through tunnels with
no means of disembarkation.

Aristide is here yesterday today and
tomorrow, his grammar permits it.


                  <>

https://vimeo.com/101027027

password is aris13

Willie approached the council with a
business plan for his house and asked
for a grant to bring tourists to Mallow.


      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                titanic
                         museum.

No, not Noah, never,
Nor Joan neither.

Gabriel comes to mind,
well, that is what the
babysitting agency
said, but we don't
trust them because he
brought Lucy Fir with
him last time and she
she is a lesbian, not
that we are sexist, but,
  
   She was black as Jack
   Daw's dog in Lacoste
   and we are not racist, but,

   Look what happened to
   Cinderella and sure all
   she ever did was clean
   out the ashes of fire
   places at the castle.

   If it was Angelina Joli,
   now that would be a
   different game of ball.

   But Brad could stay at
   home to mind Bill
   Wilson's Goldfish, the
   one he got from a store
   in Akron Ohio during
   prohibition and after it
   was over, the fish, known
   as Bob, had the misfortune
   of going from one bowl to
   another, protesting its
   captivity before ending
   up on a table at an AA
   meeting to show the new
   comers that h2eau is the
   destiny of anyone who
   lives in a glass house.

Another war for America,
but of course we all know
it was planned well ahead
and why the troop removal
from Afghanistan occurred.

Wars to America are premature
ejaculations without condoms.

Nobody has any idea of the
consequences and pulling
out at the right time is not
an art of which they excel.

Just imagine, if arm pits
had been inverted, Irish
council workers would
have no sockets to anchor
their shovels while they
are on the roads working.

When shorter ones were
introduced, they made
perfect foot rests, causing
the Axilla to be superfluous.

.  /-/ezbollah
  /-/outhi
/-/amas
/-/ormuz


People may not be
aware, but Hormuz
is the most lethal of
the 4 haches by far.

Once Iran blocks
this choke point it
will ******* all of
the evil* economies

The strait is only
20 kilometres wide
but the shipping
lanes are a mere 3.

This artery could be
halted with bows and
arrows, it is a bowel
with room for 1 ****.

Iran will **** it up
like a constipated
intestine and there
will be no laxative,

Debt to America
DebtTo Britain
Debt to France*
Debt to Zionism