i try to fall asleep to the sound of atmospheric tones and rain

yet nothing can seem to dull the pain
of what i've always felt for you
what i'll always feel for you,
don't tell me this **** isn't new for you
too

i try to fall asleep to the sound of atmospheric tones and rain
but my mind remains
disturbed
i think i am quite
perturbed

i fell asleep to the sound of atmospheric tones and rain
my mind quietly hiber-
nates

A bear in Florida
finds no winter,
no months to sleep
in cozy cocoon.
He watches,
wakened and wary,
for sea changes
and weather shifts.
Many other predators
spend cooler seasons
in lassitude
despite the latitude,
neither hunting for truth
nor caring about
what surrounds them.
The bear raises his head,
wrinkles his nose
at the scent of danger,
the hint of threats
to and from
his environment.

Many daze in the rippsy tav the Nates will hiber by their Glit
'N sometime prea with the gigaslav and there zellgreth betwit.

Now once there was a Tilly Stoet who'd paineram in the dippserill
Nifty Nates would knowet and greal it's very Tips-a-Prill

A day or more had passed in tyme till one day the gigaslav broke
Now Tilly Stoets speak of brine 'n the merryjaunah they'd smoke.

Oh they'd **** there poppers 'n slop their drippers
'Till one day the pole greasemen came.

The Tilly Stoets acted like poets and that was really O.K.
But the buzzers were fuzzers and wouldn't ya knowet

They took all there pots away.

Often referred to as
IRE - LAND where
tainted weather is a
back drop for every
artists canvass, zero
relief from a sky of
cumulus congestion
where depression is
culturally inherited
and passed down by
each generation all
of whom are praying
for the bi-product of
global warming so
we can grow lemons.

If the sun be a ship on the
Irish sky then it's close to
the coast where a frothy
surf obscures its vision
thus our eternal shadow.

Is there anything to protest
about, we seem to be the only
ones not out there braking up
the place and looting.

Are we in our riot minds or
is there something holding
us back.

Global Cooling is something
we could complain about, it
is not fair, Ireland is being left
out of the rise in temperatures.

Soon we will be ******* the
Police, The Hiber Nation will
wake up and do wreck, like in
France, Hong Kong and India.

The only difference being, we
will be needing the umbrellas
for the rain.

We need an Irish Gretta to
increase our CO2 emissions
so that we can grow Lemons.

After the Solstice, when
darkness descended on the
Hiber-Nation their literary
retreat began.

Genius drinkers commenced,
from wells of wisdom, which
were deep in the evergreen
thought forests.

Hidden Hedge Schools*, honed
the poets, who primed the
populous from tempered anvils,
at the Wordsmiths Forge.

               <>


For Padraigh Pearse
1879 - 1916.
Executed by British.
               <>
I say British, because The Scots and Welsh
were every bit as big a ******* as the English.

Haunted by a Celtic Shroud
         a snow blanket that
   envelopes the hiber-nation.

      As leaky taps announce
    the nightly frost by silence,
    I return to the motherland-

                  And there,
untouched by life's anomalies;
     my wisdom's understood!

They got to be from Warsaw
household ******* in Polish
coal bags by the Clyda River.

Either them or the Africans
they find the weather so cold
here in the Hiber-Nation.

What about the travelling
people they have stove
burners in their caravans!

"We have central heating so
it can't be us not guilty of
anything". Accusing perhaps?

Farewell to Ire Land
where the pillars of
Lot's salt are bergs
of humidity trapped
in their cellars without
any ports of parole.

Where Oisin's return
was strickened with
rheumatoid artritis
within hours of his
arrival to the Hiber
Nation.

Farewell to Mallow we're
leaving by the Lee where
Marvin's observation in
the rear view mirror is
better than retrospect or
the wisdom of hindsight.

And with the mesmerisation
of rain continuing to keep
the repetition of the two
oarsmen heave- **-ing on
windscreens, one wonders,
what's the Irish for Karma ?


ps.

Fliuch = The Irish for rain.
Sounds like the F word.

I gestated on a cumulus-
                      -congestus before being
dropped through the
                       atmosphere to a grassy
hilltop where I seeped
                     deep into the earths core.
It was a reservoir in the
                         Hiber-Nation awaiting
capillary reincarnation
                          an emerging nascency.
I became a spring trickle
                     of initial infancy growing
to a stream a pool a pond
                        and on to become a lake
where my captivity of
                     liquid claustrophobia was
too much to cope with so
                          I overflowed to be born
again with a new baptism
                           becoming known by a
different name which was
              my schizophrenic beginnings.
I was joined by the like
                    minded type cast branded
polluted harnessed. Dam.
                             Imprisoned by a high
wall forced labour.
                            On reflection Nimbus
Cloud 9 harps on about
                          Buddhism and it being
a stage of enlightenment
                          but this holds no water
unless the sun shines
                        and I evaporate to begin
this whole process again
                             but how likely is that
in an Irish summer
                         which differs little from
winter in Cork the county
                           keeping Ireland afloat.
Well, I'm being converted
                                 to electricity while
waiting for global warming
                                which according to
what I'm hearing is likely
                            as meeting an iceberg
in the river Lee on my way
                    to the Atlantic to be salted.

Against the backdrop,
dark skies supported
by mountains, an Elm
carcass stands skeletally
silhouette, or dormant.

But were I a radiologist
assisted by illumination
of solar transparency, my
diagnosis might well be
due to this Hiber-Nation.


Ps.

Hibernia was the name
given Ireland by Rome
after they declined to
colonise due to weather.

They did and left, it was they christened it Hibernia  which the etymology is Latin Hiver (winter)  Hiber-Nation, It was too cold to conquer as the Gulf stream had not yet changed course. That is why we are different. We were not romanised into vertical thinking, the Irish are lateral thinkers, (fuzzy logic) we have dual methods of solving problems.
We have two clocks on our station platforms, both telling different times. If they both read the same, we'd only be needing the one clock. Unlike other nation states, Ireland is not a place but a state of mind. Freud said that we cannot be ****** Analysed. The highest ratio of dyslexics in the world are in Ireland.

Idiot Savant

Of wit and wisdom
be that the wizards lot.
But dunce or fool
no genius has he got.
To tell apart the both
like this and that.
So easy not, two heads
with only just one hat.





Try and work that out.