Tag Archives: poem

Blood brothers

Blood brothers

Nowhere between lost and found
Where souls meet change
Where redemption pounds 
Shadows drift to light
And smiles dismiss
the twisted tales
A heart beat drums
The pounding rhythm
Of brothers born
Not of blood
But a common path

Frank mcgivney 07.06.16

Life to me is all about family. The family of you birth. The family of your home. The family of your work. The family of your mates.

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Blood brothers

Blood brothers

Nowhere between lost and found
Where souls meet change
Where redemption pounds 
Shadows drift to light
And smiles dismiss
the twisted tales
A heart beat drums
The pounding rhythm
Of brothers born
Not of blood
But a common path

Frank mcgivney 07.06.16

Life to me is all about family. The family of you birth. The family of your home. The family of your work. The family of your mates.

Paddy Faces the Dragons Fire

Paddy Goes to the Dragons

 

Well now there you are the five of you and you all looking grand so you are. My self and the wife are here to extract a fist of money of you lot. We would like about €100000 for a small lump of our Business. Say hello to the people Sheila.

Hello

She doesn’t have a lot to say for her-self in the company of strangers, not that you lot are really strange. But you should hear her at home she never stops yapping. Anyway so we haven’t really got a name for the business yet so we are fine going with whatever you lot come up with. At the moment we call it the pen. Sheila said to ask when we would get the money and could half of it be in cash, she is a devil for the cash. So if you have any questions fire away

Hello Paddy, you haven’t told us what it is you are selling

The pen

The pen

It’s like an echo in her, yeah the pen.

Perhaps you can enlighten us as to what its function is?

What doesn’t it do is the question

What doesn’t it do then?

Well it doesn’t keep asking questions for one.

Paddy tell the people what its does

Right Sheila, enlighten us, my arse. Anyway it’s for the young lads and lassies in the exams. It helps them out. Sure those exams are shocking difficult, the young lad took to growing plants out the back garden, beside her self’s rhododendrons, the year of the leaving cert. Stone raving lunatic mad so he was, up there in the bedroom carrying on with himself and smoke coming out of the bedroom window, the cat was going around all queer after it stepped in to say hello to the wee pup.

So how does it helps them?

Well you see what it does now is simple enough so it is. It have a bit of an auld computer there in the body of it and it scans the questions from the exam paper, then the young lad has it set up to look up the answers on the google and there’s a wee display there and the young lads and lassies are sorted

Is that not cheating paddy

Oh god no I wouldn’t be one to condone that cheating carry on.

I think it may be

Ah no I wouldn’t believe in cheating, all it is, in a way, is a cut of stress relief. I think the doctors should be prescribing this to the students. It stops them having to study.

Sounds like cheating

Now cut out the messing boy, it’s not cheating at all, its just a bit of assistance. All that book learning couldn’t be good for you, no wonder all the young people are in need of doctoring.

And how much does it cost to make?

Oh we don’t make them

Well how do you expect to sell them then?

Ah no a wee company over in china makes them, the young lad found them on the computer

Is there a patent on it?

Ah no it wouldn’t have anything as fancy as that now, it just comes with nothing on it and we put them in a big cardboard box and sell them in the market. Matty Ryan, the brother in law on the wife’s side built us a lovely stall, painted it green white and yellow on account of the Easter rising and all that auld malarkey

And what are your sales projections?

Well now let’s see there. Right in the first year we expect to sell a heap of them, then in year two god willing, we will sell an even bigger pile of them. Be year three sure jaysus we will be selling bucket loads of them.

Can you be a bit more accurate?

Well in year three now boss, we will be going into the Americas. Over to New York and Dallas.

I want to see the Ewing house

We talked about this Sheila

Well I’m going to see it

Right well whatever. Anyway, dragons the American’s love the technology so they do, no doubt about it so we will sell a fecking load of them over there, sure they would buy anything, we will put a big harp and a shamrock on it and away we go.

Okay well because I have no pen experience I am declaring myself out

You don’t look like the examing type anyway

I think it illegal so I’m out

Feck sake

I couldn’t possibly understand a word you are saying so I am out

Good luck to you

I have no money to invest and am just here for the publicity so I am declaring myself out

I knew be the look of you

Let me think here now, I am willing to make you an offer

Good man yourself, fire away big fella

Yes €20000 for 30% of the business

You what

You heard me, do you want to think about it

Think about it are you having a laugh? You see we only have 5% left. I have 20% on account of me being the boss, the wife has 20% because she is the wife. The son has invested €20000 from selling the leaves from his plants and owns 20%. Joe Lynch the local postman said he will arrange for free delivery so he has 15%, the mother in law supplies the cardboard boxes and make ham sandwiches for the market days and grand flasks of tea, You haven’t drank the likes of it anywhere so she has 20% and she is a bit on the cantankerous side so you don’t want to be disturbing her share.

I couldn’t offer any better

Ah go on

No

Go on, go on, go on out of that

No

Ah well thanks anyway, now come here give us back them pens we gave out to you lot earlier, you not keeping them you shower of shaggers.

 

 

Paddy and Sheila drift out into the twilight with their pen and their dreams intact.

 

 

 

 

© Frank McGivney 02.06.16 (lunch time half hour of madness)

For My Daughter

Her First Confession

 

Blessed with water, wrapped in blankets of white

Their tiny hands held our hearts tight

Filling our souls with joy

The pink of a girl or the blue of a boy

 

Wax dripping from the candle

That takes its place upon the mantle

Of homes that they light

With smiles that shine in their eyes bright

 

As school friends, they gather once more

Lined up with family in the pews pure

God’s gifts blossoming to flowers

In the town of Loyd and Round Towers

 

Bless me father for I have sins so mild

The pranks and tantrums of being a child

Holy Father cleanse our innocence

Pray hear our words of penance with your benevolence

 

I’m Sorry God, Connected

Songs sung as parents reflected

On the wonder of their flock of Belles

As fair as any page from the Book of Kells

 

The kind words of the Priest

Permission in lent for a treat

Cleansed and pure wee doves

Ready now for the white dress and gloves

 

© Frank McGivney 10 March 2014

Saint Paddy’s children roam

Paddy’s Wandering Steps

 

 

He is in New York

Walking by the side

With a girl with purple hair

They would skit

Accept, not care

 

He talks in china

to the black hair geisha

In silk

Making her laugh

Touching

With hope

 

She rules in Quebec

Leading a board

Her twang from the lee

Her power from within

The Celtic queen

 

In Berlin his head

Grows grey from red

His voice the same

The bridges he drew

With pen and love

For the art they knew

 

They know us well

Its in the voice

They see the green

Among the red wisps

That flow from Celtic

Dreams of freedoms lure

 

© Francie McGivney 17.03.16

Fading minds

Fluttering away in the late evening shade
A memory gone a moment lost
A dreamer stalls the tears descent
And smiles and embraces the fading
Soul whose hand held their”s once
And forever and always in this and
What follows along golden paths
Of fear and cheer. Sorrow and joy
Take me to the strand, to autumn
Nights upon shoulders relishing
Sea breeze wisps of childhoods
Memories drifting a lifetime’s hope
Of father’s smiles and mothers embrace

Francis writing the words and thinking the thoughts and feeling the night shadows fall

the coal man calleth

The coal man calls (for once a true story)

there you are
hows it going
grand
I’ve given up the wood
have you now
yeah
must have been a pain in the arse going around to a heap of houses
tell me about it, head melting boss
so what you at
I have something in the back of the van
have you now
I do
i’m not buying anymore pots
that’s was the Christmas special
lovely
pat bring up the chainsaw
ah here steady on I was only messing
no its a lovely chainsaw
pat hold on there now
pat get out the chainsaw
honest to god pat leave the chainsaw where it is
you can have it cheap
look at me
you what
what would I do with a chain saw
cut stuff
I’ve nothing worth cutting
270 euro its a grand chainsaw pat turn it on there for the man
listen I wouldn’t know one end of a chainsaw from another
are you sure its great value
honest
what about the path there
you couldn’t use a chainsaw on concrete
no cleaning
you’re alright
I’d do a lovely job
but its spotless
no its not
you cant see it when the car is parked up
i’ll throw in the chainsaw
stop it
and a set of knives
cut it out will you
how about socks and boots
I still have the boots from last year
I have lovely socks
pat grab a pack of socks
I still have the packet from two years ago
you mustn’t clean the feet to often
its was a 20 pack
are you sure
the wife thought I was setting up a sock shop when I brought them home the time
these are great ones
the last ones left the feet black with bits of stuff
ah those ones
yeah those ones
come on pat we’re going
see you later
go on see you around

Pancake Tuesday 

Pancakes of a Tuesday

I’ll have my fill tonight

With lent waiting there

To maul me of a Wednesday

40 days in a desert

I think I’ll take a drink 

Whiskey tasted pure

Of the Thursday 

By the end I was unsure

If it was the pancakes 

Or the religion 

But by Friday I was

Luring myself from the bed

Wishing the child of Prague

Would cease to stare

At john f kennedys picture

Beneath Pope pious’s

Lenten grin 

I’m giving it up for wisdom

The sugar and the wine

The Guinness and the cider

No more I’ll go a smoking

No more I’ll walk the evil path

At least not until Saturday 

When my mind recalls

The truth I forgot to remember

I don’t believe in any of it at all

Saintly Ramblings

Saintly rambles

 

Line up St Francis on the 25th of July

Walk up that path among the birds

And the flies,

 

Line up the whore from the end of the

Street, shake up her ass and all the rest

in between

 

Line up St Christopher with the medal of

Hope, travel down that boulevard and

Dream all alone

 

Wake up the ginger dog with the shaky

Mind, walk that mama’s leg from the store

For a measure of wine

 

Wake up my lover with the one crooked eye

Strip off her mind with the hope she took

For a ride

 

(c) Francie McGivney 04.02.16

 

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