Tag Archives: irish poetry

Irish strength

When the crown killed

Our children with hunger

Feed through greed

A nation learned to fight


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


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


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


Blue was the colour

Of the gloves he wore

And 17 died today

Her face was divine

Beneath the mask she wore

And a Mammy’s lungs drowned alone

Their tune echoed in the trees

Drifting in crisp morning air

And New York lost more than on the 11th

Her smile warmed to three pigs and a wolf

His heart given the chance to read the tale

And 300000 joined the doles queue

The virus reproduced some more

Within the Ex-soldier’s last breath

And a daughter wept alone

Frank Mcgivney


Corduroy boots prancing

She stepped beyond the

Pole he wrote on the line

Weeping lines of ash

Trailers painted morning

Pink reflecting in Spaniard

Dancing boots of vacant


Hidden he commences

To descend above the flames

Burnt into pale fluorescent

Tattoos depicting the stray

Torture of a dreary priests

Last moments

Curled toes stretch to caress

The lost pole golden skin

Of the girl lying naked

Fiddling with his emotions

While her cross eyed stare

Describes the winter time

Design of her corduroy

Boots cast meaninglessly

Before the amber turf

Of his vacant fire

(C) Francis Mcgivney

Father’s Day


It’s a tale like the rest

They all come to know

The man is your father

The script of the poem

the words in the rhyme

he sings to your soul

the beat of the drum

you danced with his love

the smoke trails a path

from the front to the rear

you sit alone and remember

his song, his reverie

the voice of a man

the spirt of a king

the eye of your friend

The one you hold dear

The hands were all calloused

The touch it was soft

The path he lead onwards

Was the best that he could

Now he lies floating

Away from your sight

Beside with your dreams

Inside you in love

And all that you long for

is the day when it comes

when he takes your hand

softly and leads you on home

© francie mcgivney Fathers day 2015

the dress

The Dress

You waited so long for something

To change in yourself

You waited too long for the kiss

To bring you peace

His tears dripped back on

The silver reflection

The one they saw

The one you knew was wrong

They worried you liked other boys

The playground named you queer

The mirror called you male

Your soul alone saw a girl

Blue jeans ripped and torn

White shirts and green ties

Pink dresses prim and right

Red tights, light and warm

I saw you walking on the cobbles

Your legs were smooth

Your ass was tight, I smiled

An Apple of Adam failed your design

Freedom came to you that night

Some shook their head, some cried

But I could see the beauty had appeared

To free your soul to fly

(c) Francie McGIvney 15/06/2015 someone who stimulated my mind at the weekend made me wonder what trans-sexual people might feel inside, I knew one once in another life when i wore a black jacket and he cried when he told me about walking the streets of dublin and pretending to be confident while inside his light flickered (my words not his/hers) anyway i hope you like.

wild eyes

Wild Eyes (for she who knows the truth inside)

Her soul fluttered in the rising wind

screamed in the roaring sun

sang in the silent meadow,

bit the juice from life’s desire

Their minds shrank

to the passing touch

of her floating veil

her beauty they missed

in the echo of her scream

Who does she think she is

Could she not be normal

while standing above her station

why do anything, but live to die

she listened to their hate

She cried inside

her tears turned the flame

to an ember

He saw in her all he was himself

he held her hand and she held his

he kissed her lips and then her mind

the fire raged

consumed them both in joy

She gave him all he ever needed

The touch of a flame to make him smile


(c) Frank McGivney

What they want

the wait is long sometimes

eventually it drifts to nothing,

melting to a memory

you don’t recall,

a passing glittering

Christmas tree sparkle

in moonlight

the click starts it again,

the wait from their first words

to the time when they ask.

They always ask

The prize they seek,

hidden among the rest

The hellos the goodbyes

The how are you’s

the game begins

They search

you give

they grab

and the wait starts

Fading again

(c) Frank McGivney 28.01.15

Poetry unedited of top of my head: the walk (come travel with me)

Wild nature Wallpapers-3

I walked along the path

where leaves fell on wet cement

it was grey

both the ground and the day

i had a moment

one you don’t always notice

the wind was raw

which suits my flaws

and Damien Rice  was singing

in my ears and something

I felt something

A wildness in myself and nature

it all blended into one

It roared inside of me

in a calming way

the shiver went

the day was set

(c) Frank McGivney 09.01.15