"higgins" poems
PARNELL'S FUNERAL
UNDER the Great Comedian's tomb the crowd.
A bundle of tempestuous cloud is blown
About the sky; where that is clear of cloud
Brightness remains; a brighter star shoots down;
What shudders run through all that animal blood?
What is this sacrifice? Can someone there
Recall the Cretan barb that pierced a star?
Rich foliage that the starlight glittered through,
A frenzied crowd, and where the branches sprang
A beautiful seated boy; a sacred bow;
A woman, and an arrow on a string;
A pierced boy, image of a star laid low.
That woman, the Great Mother imaging,
Cut out his heart. Some master of design
Stamped boy and tree upon Sicilian coin.
An age is the reversal of an age:
When strangers murdered Emmet, Fitzgerald, Tone,
We lived like men that watch a painted stage.
What matter for the scene, the scene once gone:
It had not touched our lives. But popular rage,
Hysterica passio dragged this quarry down.
None shared our guilt; nor did we play a part
Upon a painted stage when we devoured his heart.
Come, fix upon me that accusing eye.
I thirst for accusation. All that was sung.
All that was said in Ireland is a lie
Bred out of the c-ontagion of the throng,
Saving the rhyme rats hear before they die.
Leave nothing but the nothingS that belong
To this bare soul, let all men judge that can
Whether it be an animal or a man.
The rest I pass, one sentence I unsay.
Had de Valera eaten parnell's heart
No loose-lipped demagogue had won the day.
No civil rancour torn the land apart.
Had Cosgrave eaten parnell's heart, the land's
Imagination had been satisfied,
Or lacking that, government in such hands.
O'Higgins its sole statesman had not died.
Had even O'Duffy -- but I name no more --
Their school a crowd, his master solitude;
Through Jonathan Swift's clark grove he passed, and there
plucked bitter wisdom that enriched his blood.
7.7k
Shutting down,
My immune system fails,
Vulnerable to the germs that breed about the town,
One mistake,
Protection wasn’t used,
Vulnerable to the taunts that make my soft heart break.
Although my heart is broken,
Words only cut so deep,
I know that I am human,
Even as I drift to endless sleep.
For advice and help – please contact any of the organisations below:
Terrence Higgins Trust
Web: www.tht.org.uk
Helpline: 0845 1221 200
Offers free and confidential services for people with ***
Positively Women
Web: www.positivelywomen.org.uk
Helpline: 020 7713 0222 (staffed by *** positive women: Mon-Fri 10am-4pm)
Aidsmap
Web: www.aidsmap.com
Information, news and resources for people with *** and AIDS.
I dedicate this poem to all those who are suffering from HIV/AIDS, those the world has loved and lost through HIV/AIDS and to all of those affected by HIV/AIDS.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 6:26 AM UTC
Amanda was a Panda
She was a lovely lass,
Although she had two big black eyes,
She retained an air of class.
She ambled into the Bamboo Bar
To have lunch with Panda Pete one day,
And he looked into her eyes
And to her he did say.
"Oh Amanda with your big black eyes
Will you please be forever mine,
And promise that you will never
Let your panda arms entwine,
Any other bloke panda
In this bamboo land,
Please oh please Amanda,
You've got to understand
For me there is no other
You're the only girl for me,
You remind me of my mother,
And so we're meant to be,
Together as a couple we'll be
With our four eyes of black,
Oh darling please look at me
Why have you turned your back?"
She answered very clearly
She said "because Pete I'd rather,
Find another Panda really,
To be my childrens father."
Now Panda Pete was really sad
He felt total and utter rejection,
So he sloped off before he got mad,
To a future of dejection.
He slunk out of the Bamboo Bar,.
Back into the forest outside
And jumped into his panda car
And took off for a long lonesome ride.
Tom Higgins 07/05/2014
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
Above the beaches of Normandy
In ordered rows they lie.
They came to fight for freedom,
And for that many had to die.
They also lie in rows in Libya,
In Italy and Greece
The soldiers of democracy
Who died fighting for the release
Of millions locked in a tyranny
Oppressed by an evil mind
They died so that enlightenment
Could guide the future of mankind.
And in the East many more
Monuments stand in memory
Of the many millions of bravehearts
Who died in the fight to be,
Rid of the monstrous evil gang
And their racist and murderous ideaology,
Which planned genocide for these people
In order to steal their whole country.
And here we are almost seventy years
Since the end of that terrible war
Looking at election results which ask
What was all that dying for?
People in free democracies purchased
With those millions of victims blood
Have voted for the same ideaology
That will trample in the mud
All the freedoms for which they fought
And for which they gave their lives
It is as if history has never been taught
And that sheer ignorance above all else,thrives.
Tom Higgins 27/05/2014
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC
~
Gumby, Wood Woodpecker and Me
~
somewhere in the mother lode
of a thousand poems scripted,
lies a pen-pained tribulation, an old ode,
to the taming of the shrew,
the shock and awe of my new born,
slept-on hair mode
Ogdiddy,
she says,
rise up quick!
thy self to the mirror dispatch,
see what god hath wrought
upon thy head this brand new morn
blessed am I,
at this late stage,
in posses of a
goodly and shocking amount
of hair au naturel
each of my body's parts has a mind of its own,
my hairs, each one a different opinion and resultantly
an amazing new creation born come dawn
sometimes straight up like Gumby
she quips,
sometimes a shocking tail to one side
in the style of one Woody Woodpecker,
she mockingly cries!
and on and on each daily
a new cartoon characterization proposition,
until one day in feigned wrath I do reply
*just you wait Mrs. Higgins, just you wait,
you will rue the day my do
will be best described and descried by you
as akin to that of one known as
SpongeBob SquarePants*
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 9:01 AM UTC
In Flanders fields the poppies blow,
Between the crosses, row on row'.
So wrote the poet John McCrae,
Recording the reality of his day.
Now after ninety four years have gone,
The use of the poppy has now moved on.
Instead of remembrance of the brave,
It sends addicted millions to an early grave,
And today our young troops fight and die,
Without anyone asking the real question, why?
In Helmand's fields the poppies blow,
Beside the compounds where they grow,
Surrounded by hidden IED's,
Planted to **** and maim with ease,
The brave young men sent on patrol,
Hoping they return alive and whole,
As they risk all to do their duty,
The poppy crop provides illicit *****
That funds the continuation of this war,
In which no one can say what we're fighting for!
Tom Higgins 12/11/2012
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
I
Under the Great Comedian's tomb the crowd.
A bundle of tempestuous cloud is blown
About the sky; where that is clear of cloud
Brightness remains; a brighter star shoots down;
What shudders run through all that animal blood?
What is this sacrifice? Can someone there
Recall the Cretan barb that pierced a star?
Rich foliage that the starlight glittered through,
A frenzied crowd, and where the branches sprang
A beautiful seated boy; a sacred bow;
A woman, and an arrow on a string;
A pierced boy, image of a star laid low.
That woman, the Great Mother imaging,
Cut out his heart. Some master of design
Stamped boy and tree upon Sicilian coin.
An age is the reversal of an age:
When strangers murdered Emmet, Fitzgerald, Tone,
We lived like men that watch a painted stage.
What matter for the scene, the scene once gone:
It had not touched our lives. But popular rage,
Hysterica passio dragged this quarry down.
None shared our guilt; nor did we play a part
Upon a painted stage when we devoured his heart.
Come, fix upon me that accusing eye.
I thirst for accusation. All that was sung.
All that was said in Ireland is a lie
Bred out of the c-ontagion of the throng,
Saving the rhyme rats hear before they die.
Leave nothing but the nothingS that belong
To this bare soul, let all men judge that can
Whether it be an animal or a man.
II
The rest I pass, one sentence I unsay.
Had de Valera eaten parnell's heart
No loose-lipped demagogue had won the day.
No civil rancour torn the land apart.
Had Cosgrave eaten parnell's heart, the land's
Imagination had been satisfied,
Or lacking that, government in such hands.
O'Higgins its sole statesman had not died.
Had even O'Duffy--but I name no more--
Their school a crowd, his master solitude;
Through Jonathan Swift's clark grove he passed, and there
plucked bitter wisdom that enriched his blood.
1.7k
THERE is something terrible
about a hurdy-gurdy,
a gipsy man and woman,
and a monkey in red flannel
all stopping in front of a big house
with a sign "For Rent" on the door
and the blinds hanging loose
and nobody home.
I never saw this.
I hope to God I never will.
Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo.
Hoodle-de-harr-de-hum.
Nobody home? Everybody home.
Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo.
Mamie Riley married Jimmy Higgins last night: Eddie Jones died of whooping cough: George Hacks got a job on the police force: the Rosenheims bought a brass bed: Lena Hart giggled at a jackie: a pushcart man called tomaytoes, tomaytoes.
Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo.
Hoodle-de-harr-de-hum.
Nobody home? Everybody home.
1.6k
Basil is a fruit bat
Who flies through the trees,
And flying is what fruit bats do
With the most consumate ease,
He flies until he comes to
The place he's looking for
Where the figs grow in abundance
And he feasts till he can feast no more.
Now I wonder what then happens
When nature's functions call
And when he's hanging upside down,
Where does his wee and poo all fall?
Tom Higgins 12/05/2014
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:36 AM UTC
Francis Bacon was a pig
He grew to be very big
And when he reached his maximum
The man from the butcher's then did come,
And hit him very hard on the head
And Francis Bacon was then dead.
The man then proceeded to
Chop him up, first into two,
Then he merrily carried on
Till what had been Francis was all gone.
He was now like a meaty jigsaw puzzle
From his tail to his snouty snuzzle,
Ham, pork and bacon he'd become
Joints,and chops, and also some,
Big pork sausages hung in loops,
And his bones were boiled to make soups,
Then the bones were sent off to,
A factory where they made glue,
So if a moral to this tale you seek -
"You can eat all of a pig except its squeak."
Tom Higgins 15/05/2015
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:58 AM UTC
Snow White, she once took
seven little men to bed.
She only ever did it once,
at least that's what she said.
Now of these seven
six of them were not known as happy,
and another of them, normally,
well he was rather snappy.
So she thought what might work,
would be good old rumpy, pumpy,
guaranteed to cheer up
even that little old sod Grumpy.
The next morning the change in them
was really quite dramatic.
Even old Grumpy had changed his name,
he said ' just call me Mr Ecstatic.'
Tom Higgins
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
i. Arc.tic Eur.ope mark.ings wo.ven to lea.ves –
8 Salix Boloria nails whisper the
rocky, submarginal dark –
triangles of Alberta and most wide –
arctic willow (except, occasionally,
other spots of Discal cell) Numero Uno, we've parallel branch
( n. )
with basal spot
invaded by the darker
adjacent colors or silvery white;
ii. Fo.od pl.ants l.ight Ka.nsa.s
defined Oakland or the apex clasp
inner face of Valva
Texola Higgins. Food?
Brooded multiple orange
various species, obsolete cells
Yellowed cast; transverse lines..............(...)
9 Chlosyne wings; dark Maculation
Virginia portion
iii. re.d ex.tend.ing
multiple orange (except Vesta Millicta)
Athalia Ambigua
Callophrys south
brooded flowers
connected wing
tooth like line
but central gray
new Juniperus
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 3:02 AM UTC
I just heard it on the news
That the votes of those
With narrow minded views
Have gained for those people
For who they vote
A large hand around
The "European's" throat,
And that this selection
Has led to the return
Of ideas that caused
Europe to burn.
The hatred and xenophobia
That I thought forever
Gone from here
Has once more reared
It's mindless head,
How many this time
Will wind up dead?
Because of the choices
People make
Having listened to voices
That will take
Millions into misery and war
Do they understand
What they voted for?
Tom Higgins 25/05/2014
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:55 AM UTC
Water, as most of you will know,
Has the chemical formula H2O.
Now this essential liquid is, as well,
In its natural form devoid of smell,
And also in its pure state
It's clear and clean and really great,
For keeping living things alive,
As without it nothing can survive.
Yes it really is such magic stuff,
Because without it things are really tough,
And it often makes me stop and think
Each time I pour myself a drink.
What would I do if it all dried up?
Turn on the tap, but an empty cup.
Nothing from the pipes emanating,
Panic, as I'm not used to waiting.
This is not how it is for me
I live where rain falls frequently,
And I can drink, shower and bathe too
As often as I'm wanting to.
But in other parts it rains only rarely,
And people there, well they can barely
Find enough water for their needs,
To drink, to wash, to nurture seeds.
For them life is infinitely harder
They've learned to live with an empty larder,
And simple hygiene is so hard to achieve
When the detritus of living, they have to leave,
Lying, rotting, stinking on the surface all around
Polluting any water source in the ground.
Because of the extreme poverty of these 'others',
On my TV screen I have seen the faces of the mothers,
Whose children died because there has never been
Access to water which is drinkable and clean.
Yes, something that we take for granted,
Because we were born, where we were planted!
Tom Higgins
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
Now that the Ben Higgins Lauren Bushnell wedding is on once again, many are wondering why Higgins called it off in the first place.
In the previous episode of the reality show, Higgins decided to call off the wedding. Many were shocked with his decision, including his fiancee. Bushnell admitted that she was totally blindsided by Higgins when he revealed during their therapy session that he wanted to postpone their wedding.
At the time, Higgins said they felt an enormous pressure on their relationship since The Bachelor finale.
When asked about how their respective families reacted on Higgins’ decision to call off the wedding, the 28-year-old software sales rep admitted that most of them already knew and their families were not surprised by the emotional episode.
In Ben & Lauren: Happily Ever After? finale Tuesday night, Higgins revealed to his fellow Bachelor stars that the wedding was off and he and Bushnell have been in couples therapy. Everyone was shocked and saddened. The group, however, still managed to pull their emotions together and made a dinner plan for the couple.
They also decided to surprise Higgins and Bushnell with a montage of their journey together showed on a screen atop the Marque. Higgins then called Bushnell to meet him at the top of the Skyfall Lounge, overlooking Las Vegas. Higgins then told Bushnell that he still wanted to be her husband.
“I know that these last couple of weeks have been hard and confusing and tiring and sometimes something we both can’t understand. But through it all, I want you to know that I never thought for a second I could live a day without you in my sight. Lauren, I’m gonna be your husband. Lauren, you’re gonna be Mrs. Higgins.” Bushnell asked if Higgins’ words mean the wedding is back on. He replied yes.
Ben Higgins Lauren Bushnell first met and fell in love in The Bachelor 2016. Higgins popped the question at the season finale. Shortly after, the two moved in together in Denver. However, split rumors continue swirling around their relationship.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/sexy-formal-dresses
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 3:53 AM UTC
The cowards came in the night
All were heavily armed,
To ****** and burn and kidnap,
But not one of them was harmed.
They always make sure their victim
Has no means of self defence
That is how they operate
And to them its just common sense.
Why would they pick on someone
Who is able to easily fight back
Because they are armed and trained
To beat them if they dared attack?
No, not for them the hard fight
With men who are trained to ****
They prefer to attack little girls
And take them against their will.
So these hard men of the group
Which calls itself Boko Haram
Tell me in what do you really believe,
Because your actions are not of Islam.
Tom Higgins 14/05/2014
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
All aboard this ship of fools,
all aboard she's sailing,
all aboard this ship of fools,
for we are going a' whaling.
From the harbour our course we keep,
for the distant Antarctic water,
to find the leviathans of the deep,
and begin our ****** slaughter.
All aboard this ship of fools,
all aboard she's sailing,
all aboard this ship of fools,
for we are going a' whaling.
We say there is a scientific need,
to study these magnificent beings
we harpoon them, and watch them bleed,
as before our ship they're fleeing.
All aboard this ship of fools,
all aboard she's sailing,
all aboard this ship of fools,
for we are going a' whaling.
And still our leaders, they entreat
that we do this for the good of science,
but really it is for their meat,
that we **** these gentle giants
All aboard this ship of fools,
all aboard she's sailing,
all aboard this ship of fools,
for we are going a' whaling.
Tom Higgins.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
If you give a man a fish,
He will feed his family for a day,
But if you teach him how to fish
He will feed his family until the day
The fish have all been spirited away
By the massive fleets he can see
On the horizon of his country's sea,
And now his family's nutritional need
That up to now he could feed
Has been overridden by corporate greed.
Then the nations whose fishing fleets
Take away the fish he eats
All become very irate
When he's forced to be a pirate.
Tom Higgins 23/05/2014
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:57 AM UTC
Big bang happened, time began,
Now here we are, the sons of man,
Discussing whether a supreme being,
Of such might and wisdom all seeing,
Could possibly be around before,
Any time existed, and what's more,
Could pick a tiny isolated planet,
And with a vast array of zoology, man it!
Now that is more than incredible,
If it was pie it would be inedible.
The thought that out of billions of galaxies,
He chose one tiny planet for the people he's,
Made in his own likeness to do his bidding,
No really he must have just been kidding,
And out there among those trillions of stars
There are billions more Earth's, where there are,
Trillions more like you and me,
Discussing how they came to be!
Tom Higgins 18/10/2012
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 8:08 AM UTC
There is so much information all around,
And pearls of wisdom can be found
Everywhere on this internet,
But with all my seeking I have not yet
Found the source, she is such an elusive girl
That fount of all knowledge the Mother of Pearl !
Tom Higgins
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:12 AM UTC
NO. 31 O'HIGGINS ROAD, CURRAGH CAMP, CO. KILDARE.
I climb a stair
that isn't there
stand on a landing
in mid-air
each step I take
creates the next part
of the vanished house
lost to time
as see through
as a cartoon ghost.
This was
(still is) for me
No. 31
O'Higgins Road
my world
the universe of me.
What was once
my bedroom...is now a cloud
a window
become a moon
night and its storm
sit in our living room
a bird tiptoes
down the stair
flying through
nine year old me
reaching for the light switch
to turn on
what isn't there.
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 5:39 PM UTC
I have always had an interest in
Interests I find interesting.
Interesting interests of the kind
That stimulate the interest of my mind.
And when an interest, of interest interests me,
I stay interested in it permanently
So an interesting time I have had,
Because having so many interests drives me mad.
I’ve never had an interest in just one thing,
That’s never been sufficiently interesting.
For I find interesting interests everywhere
That my interested eyes care to stare,
Or my interested ears care to listen
I find the interesting gems that sing and glisten.
Tom Higgins 08/03/2014
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 7:59 AM UTC
The day is grey, the clouds hang low, and, in the air, a winter chill.
Upon the beach called Omaha an old soldier stands; a promise to fulfill.
Full Seventy years ago this man, weighted down with gear and kit,
raced across this wet grey sand, and, by some miracle, remained unhit.
Friends who’d survived that longest day, and all the long days after it,
had purchased the bottle held in his hands. As the last man standing
he had charge of it:
His eyes, watery from the wind, Looked at the bottle in his hands:
A Dom Perignon Brut Champagne, the 47’ vintage year.
He thought about his comrades gone. Surely they were heroes all
Who spilled out from the Higgins boats to breach the Hun’s Atlantic wall.
He felt the presence of the ghosts, all those who fell upon this shore.
Boys, really, almost all eighteen, who’d died
answering Freedom’s call .
He tore the foil with old gnarled hands; His Arthritis made a chore of this.
Thin wire held the cork in place and was so difficult to untwist.
Once free his placed his thumbs upon the curved underbelly of the cork
The cork shot free across the sand and bubbly foam
chased after it.
He was not a religious man, it seemed impious for him to pray
Though he recalled so many had, that day they bled their lives away.
How best to honor these fallen men? Who had pledged their lives, each to each.
It was then he turned the bottle down and poured the contents
on the beach.
Some would declare it sacrilege to let that vintage go to waste.
The old soldier smiled and felt at peace.
He’d seen the vintage of 26’ poured out in buckets
In this very place..
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 3:15 PM UTC
I'm twenty three and just back from their war
With no idea what I've been fighting for.
I've not been myself since I got back
Trying to live within a panic attack.
I know one thing for sure, that my family
Always have, and always will love me,
And I know that they can see that I
Have become a totally different guy
To the happy young man I used to be
Before I saw the things I came to see,
But no matter what they do or say
I still look with dread on each new day
Since my best mate died in Afghanistan
Blown to bits by the Taliban.
"Bad luck" they said that he had to die.
I've never let anyone seee me cry,
That isn't how a soldier behaves
No matter how many go to early graves.
So now here I stand, mentally torn
Wishing that I had never been born
Into this cruel, unthinking world
Where every time the flags are unfurled,
The politicians spout more lies which we swallow
Then we flock together as we follow
These Judas goats who lead the sheep
To slaughter and everlasting sleep.
Inside I feel I have reached the stage
Where the fires of hurt have begun to rage
Against what is left in me to fight the pain
Do I want to face this all again?
Another day with my best mate gone
Do I really want to linger on
Asking every time I awake
Why was it him not me they had to take?
I just feel I can no longer cope
Does the answer lie in this length of rope?
Tom Higgins 16/08/2013
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:10 AM UTC
I remember dad sitting and reading
each evening after dinner
once he and me had washed up in the galley kitchen.
After, I remember him stripping down to the waist
and body washing at the sink, then completing
his evening shave.
I remember his big old badger shaving brush
and a shaving mug refilled with Old Spice.
I remember the odour, filling the kitchen
and sticking to him.
But mostly I remember him in his white vest
in the brown armchair under the warm standard lamp,
feet up by the fire, reading his books.
Wilbur Smith.
Alastair MacLean.
Jack Higgins.
The Sound of Thunder.
Ice Station Zebra.
Wrath Of The Lion.
Always a hardback. Always a loaner
from the regular family trips
to the woods and the library.
Always sitting in his heady mix
of Old Spice, Brylcreem and St Bruno,
reading and relishing the opportunity
to pass the book on to me
telling me of his envy of my first read
of the adventure he’d just finished.
Aug 24, 2022
Aug 24, 2022 at 4:12 PM UTC