Happy st Patrick’s day
To all the people
In the world
From Ireland
Everyone of you is beautiful
In your souls and minds
From Frankie and Lukey mcgivney father and son
Happy st Patrick’s day
To all the people
In the world
From Ireland
Everyone of you is beautiful
In your souls and minds
From Frankie and Lukey mcgivney father and son
When the crown killed
Our children with hunger
Feed through greed
A nation learned to fight
By
Talking with words
Rhyming lyrical beauty
While saying nothing at all
A rich culture
Devoid of material wealth
Adorned with tales
And sceals
Of Swans sailing across
The wide sea to heavens door
Silence holds the strength
The foreigners never could
Sense within the feelings
Of the mothers in the uplands
Who dug stones with hands
Worn of nails
And skin trailed with tears
Wept for children
Starved
A genocide fed
Of potatoes rotted
And crops on ships
Set sail for English lands
Frankie mcgivney writing of a march day after listening to a historian waxing lyrical with mr tiernan
To yellow trailing the pain of fear
Tanks roll where babies should crawl
Missiles roar the screams of war
Silk blankets flutter in the dark
Covering the devils incarnate
While air raid sirens cover
The old sheltering the young
Death can’t kill the soul
Of the brave
With pockets filled
For the sunflowers to grow
Freedom can’t be taken
From the spirit of the people
Frankie mcgivney
Excuse the language but fuck you putin you evil Humpty Dumpty bastard
Well
Water
Nah whiskey
I’d prefer a martini
A who
With a small drop of gin
Sweet Jesus
Now Tommy mind the tongue
Mmmm
A green spot, make it a double and a martini with gin for Denis there barkeep
Right you are Tommy
Nice dress there Denis
It’s Denise tonight Richard
Your right there now, it is Denise for sure
Is it comfortable
What
Well the get up
The get up?
The dress
It’s not too bad.
Breezy I’d assume
Fresh
Yeah fresh
Grand colours by the way
Ah green goes well with my eyes
Ah here give over with that now
Do you not agree
Yeah right
And the under carriage
Ah tucked and slung
Jaysus
Ah he would climb down from the cross
Be no harm and we in need of the wood
I wouldn’t be wanting to get that now
What
Wood
Wood?
You know a surging down below
Ah right
Yeah cause me an injury
So come here tell me are you a transgender or a transvestite or a cross dresser
Well I won’t be getting anything cut of
Thank fuck for that
Yeah I just like the liberating feeling of it
Sure gives you more choice
What
Well you know a more varied wardrobe
True
Jeans trousers skirt dress shirt or blouse
And all the colours
So are you set for the mart tomorrow
Ah yeah come here get me a pint of stout will you
For sure
Fecking half shot from that martini malarkey
Frankie with a WIP
Roses grow where the rivers flow
Do you think so
Well yes
By the bank?
The river bank
Where the crocodile sings
Roars
Yeah roar
Not in this country
Or county
Unless one escaped from the zoo
They’d have a long way to crawl
To the Liffey
The scummers would get it
Ah the croc would win
Be hard to win with a crocodile
Or a cross woman
Eyed or nature
Either or
Coffee or tea
Wine
Red or white
A big glass
Really
Nah red
Frankie mcgivney random conversation again just to get back into swing of the words
There you are and he milling the spuds and no bother on him while the blood floated in the air and the roars evolved to screams and the light fading to dark.
The beef didn’t meet the appearance of steak and toughness would be the word best used for a texture hidden by an over zealous salt shaker
And he told them to stop the swinging
Why they asked sure isn’t the damage done
Because the juice from the cow is all I have an inclination to enjoy
Sure we’ll be finished soon
So will I so just hold on until I put the fork down on the plate beside the knife in a patrolled fashion or perhaps with the top slightly touching
And the sound from the radio is a song from a time when he was young and bolde and seeking truth and he will be humming it for the day
There was no need for what they had done but he couldn’t be telling them when he was the one who bred them into the ways of his heart
Her smile drifts from the shadows. Laughing at the strange ways of him knowing she wouldn’t be having it any other way apart from the unusual touch of his mind upon the world
The cat on the wall beside the bush where the sycamore watched the blackberries erupt in autumn yawned with the mundanity of the scene
The napkin slipped to lie on the once proud floor
I’ll be heading then he replied
Give ma a hug for us
Right then
The wind smelled of a factory in need of closing as he stepped outside and wondered where the madness ended and the sanity began
Frankie loving the words spilling from his mind
With yellow roses
Scented on the touch
Of skin fragrent
In morning dew
With translucent glimpses
Of passing ghosts
Behind fluttering curtains
With words lined in order
Of radiant sentences
Constructs of telling paragraphs
In silver lined tales of imagination
With a smile
Radiant through time
Illuminating dusty trails
Where dreams sleep
Between adventure strolls
Frankie writing words 1st Jan 2022
50 dreams are missing and they didn’t use the door
Just screamed a little hole where there wasn’t one before
Now the army and Gardai are searching high and low
For the saints who fell from grace with the rising of the low
The tide is flowing up hill
And the flies are kissing sky
The dreams are in the clouds
And the world is flying high
The birds are on the game now
The wall is crumbling soft
But smile is on the rise
With the mountain’s turning tune
The dew is singing poems
The cat barking songs
And the dog is sipping whiskey
With the burning of the woes
So let yourself be happy
Embrace a lonesome smile
And let the beauty find you
While the sun is in the sky
(C) frankie Mcgivney
Words thrown out random from a mind glad to feel the pen in hand for letters instead of numbers
May happiness embrace your souls
They sense the special
In each other
My ma and my daughter
The wonder in their eyes
The gentle strength
Of their soul
The words of my ma
Expressions to explain
The exploration of the self
Is added to by the query of
Her grandchild
Standing over the place of rest
Of my grand parents
Shared with the ashes of my da
Her question with a twinkle
do you get to choose
Your grave neighbours ?
Catching my eye
The one we share in misdirected
Common beauty.
Our laughter mingled
With the words
Reaching beyond the ordinary
To a place where
Dreams embrace the wonder
Of thoughts drifting unheeded
By human restraints
To wonder at the beauty of the world
Where dragonflies drift within the mind
Through rainbow slides of self discovery