My dog is a racist,
initially xenophobic.

But as she got older I
noticed a change from
prejudice to bigotry
eventually intolerance.

Every time an African
American comes to our
door, she goes ape,
despite the low mirror  
in the hall.

Could she be colour
blind?

The difference between pre
destination and free will is
not a stop sign, no brothers
it is a zebra crossing where
we's equal, black lines matter
and we is goin over the other
side sisters ain't nobody goin
stop us now neither because
we is on a roll time for talkin
finish a long time ago white
man need big lessons NOW!

Universal Outage

Pick a busy street and choose a place to sit.
Allocate a location, then observe for 1 hour.
Take note of how many people occupied a
Particular spot and more, their nationalities,
By approximate assessment. Multiply this by 12 to give an average day. And at night, this
Morsel of ground will be abandoned. Try to
Imagine how many of those that tread on
Your selected pied à terre, were refugees,
Homeless, drug addicts, alcoholics, depressed, suicidal, sexually assaulted, and millionaires. What one will find, is that there
Was room at every given moment for all who
Arrived there, you may notice also that some
Stepped aside permitting the more needy to
Give them the right of passage and all of this
Occurs without lights or police to direct us.
It comes naturally, it is common courtesy, a
Learned response a reflexive action, it is our
Nature. We breathe the same air we share
The same light, until darkness and then we
Are all poetically licensed for everyone to
Distrust everyone, regardless of their colour.

Sometimes I have that
free falling feeling, sort
of a vertigo or being dizzy
from hunger or on the chair
o'planes at the carnival or
from toxic paint or standing
on the edge of a tall building
or butterflies in the stomach
from shoplifting!

But all of the above can be
compressed into a Guinness
bottle which lifts the spirits
like no other form of adrenalin,
until we get to the "Black Out".

<>    <>

     The nails in my coffin
     won’t have no heads

                  bro

     There will be scratch
         marks on the lid

                  bro

      No stars, no stripes
     just scars and gripes

                  bro

          Stand Up Bro
            Kneel Bro
             Sit sister.

         For your rights
        Join in the fights
        We don’t need no
     ******* Lights !

I wondered what the crow
was thinking when a black
sedan passed quite close to
the fence it was sitting on.

Just two houses away, it
stopped, the driver and
passenger doors opened
wide, but no one got out.

Hmmm, the crow said,
what an odd bird that,
unlike us who flap and
take off, it did it to stop.

Since returning from Provence,
I see the Nimbostratus of our
Irish skies, as a metaphor for
state sponsored loft insulation.

It looks *****, it's always there
and one wonders if it serves any
purpose other than preventing
light through tiles into the attic.

It's where names are
fused together over
      brazen coals!

Gerald Fitz-Patrick

              and

Patrick Fitz-Gerald.

Statues are but pawns, front
row resistance beginning to
collapse, next come the rooks
knights, bishops, eventually
the source of all our problems
the Monarch, ultimate symbol
of racism, suppression, greed,
antagonism, privilege, scorn.
The thunderbolt is coming as
Capablanca plays for the blacks
the Queens gambit nor castling
will prevent the Check Mate.

Only our rivers run free.

No meter on the bridge
at Mallow in Munster.

But what of the cloud
factories in Connaught?

Where west, each wind
is born,

Mischievous Gael’s with
pots of vapoured broth

Disperse its brew, and
laced with ancient potions

Concoct a drape to cloak
the Saxon Horde.

This title is not pertaining
to the river that flows through
my town, nor is it a metaphor
for Guinness ™ both of which
are tranquilly intoxicating.

No, unfortunately, this is the
mercenary army proposal of
Donald Trump, just like the
Légion étrangère in France.

The French Foreign Legion is
composed of 100% foreigners,
usually criminals, ex convicts
and psychopaths, just like the
Black & Tans (Brits in Ireland).

The antonym of Blackwater is,
               Clearwater.


        Creedence Revival?

What's more important?

A concrete footpath by the river,
where dogs can foul the walkway.

An area around the castle where
choirs serenade us annually.

A roundabout at The **** Bar
by The ****** Mary.

A Factory with a logo saying
" Golden Valleys, Growing Naturally ".

Fed from the polluted streams full of
******* that Cork Council Condones.

If a blind person is

Gifted a boomerang

For Christmas and

Ends up being hit in

The back of the head

After throwing it, then,

It is only logical that

Australian Aborigines

Are to be blamed.

Ps.

This is like Blaming
Russia for missile
strike in Poland.

.                           Blame The W.A.S.P.s



             If karma is a bi product of evolution, is

             the ultimate democracy equality for all.


    Or will the earth show up those of value and those

      who are good for nothing will natural selection

       decide who gets to survive the armageddon.

  
      Or if the holocaust was a hoax, will those who

          Missed episode one get to see the sequel.


                There are no pockets in a shroud,

                     Looks like we is all the same.


                           Parity to the people

                                  R.I.P world.


                              \\||||////

Well, not entirely, the
cursor is flashing.
What to write is the
question.

A poem a day for a year.
It is a challenge, which
at times I wish I'd not
engaged in.

But, where there's a well
there's a word and the
fountain of creativity is a
tap with a leaky washer.

I feel as though I am on
a drip today, but between
each parched droplet-
thoughts propagate.

Would one be wrong
to associate an Act,
   with Terrorism?

Acts of God for example,
      can be devastating
beyond all human capacity!

God is a Terrorist.

No phones, so who
ordered the TakeAway?

Bleek

            
Can you spot the deference,

Charles has become King.


  Dilyn and the Corgi’s are

  In Battersea dog’s home.


  Yet, the Welsh still suffer

from principality syndrome.

Love is blind
          this is why
               women wear
                     Braille teeshirts

                                  .) (.

Our appointment was
specific, to be opposite
the Fr. Mathew Statue
by Patrick's Br, at noon.

We gave each other the
usual descriptions, as is
requested by the agency,
but I was stood up, again.

That's it, I'm calling to give
her a piece of my mind.
Where the hell were you, I
got wet waiting in the rain?

''Sorry my dog stood on glass,
I am not able to locate without
him, but I  had my cane, did
you not see me, by the river''.

If Virginia Roberts was
on a blind date, then it
is possible that she might
not know if Andrew had
been circumcised or not.

But, if not, then she knows
and if she reveals this there
is no way The Palace can
deny that The Prince had
a recent ******* transplant.

Eye wiping in progress
tear ducts welling up
before a deluge of woe.

Worse has yet to come
George, tainted baits
for the gullible masses.

Seems remote right to
vote anecdote antidote
micro soft struck the note

It just a jab a pin a *****
but you will be feelin sick
serum aid to dead you ****
BLM they think you thick.

No to Gates and his concoction
already gone into production

Soon they say Black Lives do
Matter inject them now before
they scatter

Eugenic is what they won't say
to keep this slick of black at bay

No more babies Herod's way
by liquid jabs they now can slay

DNA has got its place
no more spades
since Trump is ace.


Ps.

The Covid Jab is being
designed to de *****
African Americans.

Blizzard    


  It is snowing in Ukraine

Vlad is Putin on a blizzard


    The push has come,

from Russia with shove.


    New year resolution

      finds the solution.


        Chicken Kiev

         gets stuffed.


             NATO

          no longer.


          Them not

               U.S.

         Multi-Polar








             bear.

If I go out after curfew
can't see me, safer than
day BrightLightsMatter!

There is something
hauntingly beautiful
in pain anxiety and
torment, but just as
a photographer poet
or artist, one needs to
have experienced it
to capture it and as is
often the case, that finite
time taken to blink and
this exceptional never
to recur again moment,
has been missed forever.


For Nikki G.

It's a writers dream to
compose a smash hit
be it a caption, slogan,
play, book or a poem.

I have 2,888 poems to
my name, three books
and two plays but not
one made the spotlight.

Two months ago I had
an idea, why not write
one about Covid - 19
and it has gone viral!

Authors get writers blocks

Drivers get road blocks

Vegan's get butcher's blocks

Joe Bidet gets Lego™

Poems about love
make me want to
throw up -
My hat,
in the wind,
because I said on
live radio that I'd eat
it, if I ever wrote a
poem about love.

I can make a new
hat, but I can't make
love, brewers droop,
besides, I'd rather a
pint of Guinness any
day, than get ******.

          ========
         \     (|)    /    
           \          /
             \       /
              |     |
              |     |  
              ====

Is the only benefit of being
a Catholic, an opportunity
of visiting a church in any
country of the world and
witnessing a crucified Jew?

It does beg to wonder, as
to why, throughout history,
such depictions have been
the mascot for the chosen
people. Is Karma Hereditary?

If Shakespeare was a vegetarian
would Antonio have been permitted
to pay Shylock back with a pound of
beetroot? Well he wasn’t, besides,
traffickers prefer blood money.

Although James Joyce wore
what were known at the time
as 'Pince Nez Lunettes' which
are Pinch Nose Glasses, they
later became more famous
when they were fitted with a
pair of J J's that looped round
the ears enabling John Lennon
to shake his head without any
fear of loosing sight of Yesterday.


                 <>

Footnote.

Today 16th June is Bloomsday.

The umbilical cord
through which mother
earth receives the
necessary ingredients
for her pallet of Spring,
is the rainbow!

Jackson ******* never
Used it, splat and that’s
That was his méthode.

Beckett said that writing
Was placing stains of
Silence on nothingness.

But without a doubt, ink
Is the blood of creativity
Injected on paper with nibs.

Blobs are but ponds on
The parchment, expression
Points, of a flowing nature.

Blotting paper serves no
Purpose other than absorb
Moisture from damp fingers.

A lifetime wondering why
Colour blue provoked an
Unexplainable sensation.

When in New Zealand in
2891, a printer asked me
If I had Palindrome - itis?

Must be due to spelling
Navan backwards or it
May have been dyslexia.

It was she that alerted
Me to autistic affected
Relationships to colour.

Research has shown that
blue triggers a reaction to
Those with autistic dyslexia.

People are always asking
Me why it is that I moved
Back to Ireland from France?

A new they begins in
America the redcoats
are being turned out
again, but perception
is deception, because,
              
A BLUE ON BLUE

is worse than pyrrhic
for half the population
especially as Joker Joe
  will be an imposter
white house president.

Time for one at Downing St.
"Theresa May resided here
   during the era of Brexit"

If it had a Bulls Eye and posed
at the regulation height of a dart
board, it would be an attraction.

I can imagine people on
the street stopping then
reading all about me in
cloud white, sky backing.

My date of birth, which
changed many times as
indeed did my name, I've
only got a portion of fame.

Outside is unkempt gutters
overladen with roof silt and
Crows droppings, weeds,
wheelie bins laden with bottles.

The letter flap in the door is
wedged open with sun faded
missives from Gas, Electricity
and Water Board warnings.
  
What really gets them is
that according to statistics
I am a posthumous poet
but of no consequence.

Ryan O'Leary 1951 - 2019
Lived here 2001 - 2018
   Vegetarian - Lyricist
    Failed Poets Society.

                    <>

               Epitaph

Gone back to de-compose
what took him a lifetime
        to orchestrate

But vertical and either side of
the street and not lateral under
foot, no, this is USA today land
of the free (a war zone) at last.

At home after inflicting misery
on the wider world for over a
half century, karma is coming
back to roost  a taste of their
own medicine, long overdue.

Praise the Lord and Allah the
evil ones are being punished.

Serendipity sounds as though

It might be a state of empathy

and ‘Karma' Ghia is a cabriolet,

that’s how we'll go looking for it.

A Partygate Goad
            -----
Downing the Hatch

I drink

      Therefore

                   I were

                    I was

                    I is

                    I are

That’s it I weren't

Well, only 9 minutes
At 10 next to eleven
Asleep for most of it.

If Bolt On is not properly
torqued, anythings possible.

Especially, now that he is
trying Nut an yahu for size.

Let's hope one of them has
had to good sense to bring
a washer!

We took a picnic to
a funeral
dined Al-Fresco
behind a headstone.

Carnivore Crows
looked on at a pair
of vegetarians with
organic whole meals.

We were chief mourners
but placed our stomachs
before the dead, it didn't
go down well I can tell you.

When we finished, everyone
had gone but for the grave
diggers who sat on a mound
eating a Pizza: "Bone Appetite".

Imagine a place, a sanctity,

where one might go to find

inner peace


A location as it were, where

you could call your own


We all see things differently

but some can make them

seem the same, for all of us


It is a space, for congregations,

or for spectating masses,


It is secular non secular

parochial coloquial


Arcadian agrarian


It is an environment that takes

its shape from that which

envelopes it


It is where we go to be pensive

private or even privileged


It is poetry or prose


Or it can simply be a concept

of an architectural mind


A building, where we go,

to feel safe, and, [secure]

Imagine a place, a sanctity,

where one might go to find

inner peace


A location as it were, where

you could call your own


We all see things differently,

but some can make them

seem the same, for all of us


It is a space, a configuration

for congregations, or for

spectating masses,


It can be secular non secular

parochial coloquial


Arcadian, agrarian


It is an environment that takes

its atmosphere from that which

envelopes it


It is where we go to be pensive,

private, pampered, even

privileged


It is a position, poetry, pathos,

or prose


Or it can simply be a concept

of an architectural mind


A building, where we might go

to feel safe, or solitary,
            
but [secure]

Sunshine alters one's
perspective on things.
Something more than
lack of light changes
after dark.

Night is the the conscience
of day and any decision one
makes while it is bright needs
to be given a second hearing
before shut eye, because boo
boo's are nocturnal.

Boyhood's Fire is the title
of my autobiography, a
composition of which not
one book agent accepted.

After no less than 12 refusals
I decided to self publish. Today
a film company requested it.
Those publishers can eat my words.

Would I be talking about
suicide if I wasn't thinking
of it, could this actually be
my note which will be found
in my pocket or nailed to the
tree or will I opt for overdose.

I have a friend with a gun he
drinks a lot, easy for me to
steal it and there is always
a round in the breach, noisy
and messy, but what would
I care, where is the question.

Someplace novel, with a mask
on nobody would know me
and I could hide the shotgun
inside my coat, wear a polo-
neck to conceal the barrel that
I'd place under my chin.

All I would need to do is cut
the lining in my pocket so as
I could put my finger on the
trigger, then during a normal
conversation with the witness,
all of a sudden I'd say (- - - - )

Beggars on horseback,
gate lodgers gone beyond
their station, are these
born again, nouveau riche,
sans compassion, Irish.

Immigration expectation,
coffin ships and famine.

But oh; our amnesia, how
conveniently we cannot recall.

Thoughts and trends are
histories boomerangs, so, lest
it be forgotten, we pollinated
the entire world, we piggybacked
our imperial masters, we worker
bee’d on their ill gotten hives, it’s time
to share the honey, with our drones!

Boorish Johnson has
been chosen by the
chosen-ites, that is a
well deserved Brutish
Karma, one of which we
all approve in Ireland.

God Slave The Queen.

Straight laced gemini’s,

polished tongues, well

heeled, uppers classed.


Many the mile walked,

tyres and the odd cur

kicked, still got sole.


Destined for dusty old

shelves, damp sheds

deteriorating recruits.


Humans fade, trappings

decay, libraries go to hell

nor a footprint shall remain

The border between Ireland
and Ireland is a skipping rope
held by counties Donegal and
Down, but the problems is this,
Donegal are turning it clockwise,
whereas Down are anticlockwise.