Tag Archives: poet

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

Paddy tempts St Peter

Paddy tempts Saint Peter

Well
Well
There you are
Welcome Brother
good man isn’t it only your self Saint Peter
heaven awaits you
Jaysus that was easy
mmm taking the lords name in vain
what are you at
making a note
a note of what
your sins
I’m shagging well dead
mmm cursing
give it over
its says here you gave up going to mass
I didn’t believe a word of it
how about now that you are outside the gates
I’m still not sure
What more proof do you need
let me in to have a look
you have to prove yourself worthy
I could give you some money
mmmmm bribery
give over writing it all down
by the look of this you haven’t a hope of getting in
you aren’t doing so good yourself
what do you mean
well your stuck out here with me
this is where god put me
so the rest of them are inside having a whale of a time and your stuck out here with the likes of me
its is my vocation
even the boys in Hell know how they’re fixed, do they leave you in at night.
no I am always here waiting the souls
you got righty screwed for the bit of denial
I am humble in the error of my way
You’re a full gobshite,
Mmm bad language
Put down the pen for a minute and listen to me
I got this pen from Jesus himself
Did he post it to you
Well kind of
Exactly. Look come on down here with me
Where to
Down to the other side, sure give it a shot and see how you get on
You are a heathen
That I am but it could be good auld craic once the burning and stuff is over with.
Will there be girls
Loads of them, bad girls
Hang on a second
What are you doing
Posting back the pen
Good man

Francie passing five minute at lunch time

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

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

 

saint-francis-of-assisi-in-ecstasy(1).jpg!Blog

looking back

your words kind of bored me in a simple kind of way
that look you had in your eye it turned me sour
the perfume made me remember days stuck in a cattle shed
to be honest I felt a desire to wring the stray curl around your neck
but you know you should have told me
you could have let me know
I might have smiled a bit more
I might have even told you a tale
but I had to find out as you walked away
and I nearly missed it

as it swayed in the most majestic way

(c) Francie McGivney

Budget 2015

Budget 2015

The feathers plumped softly in the cushion

She lay beneath the cheeks of his spreading

Posterior from whence came his proclamations.

Beside him the one crooked to the front, took

His place upon the podium with velvet grace.

Silence fell as his tongue licked the lips from which

The beggar’s pennies were cast forth upon the sunken

Shoulders of the green land, once proud now covered

In a shroud of deceptive schemes and fairy-tale dreams

He winked a twitching eye and nodded a shaky head

And beneath his snaking breath he whispered real slow

Real easy, real unsure of him and them and all the rest

“Do they believe, do they understand, do they see?”

He flicks the pages of the comic beneath his script

He smiles a sneer and inside he thinks the plot is laid

The worms will follow the mellow chords we lay

Beneath the feet of those not willing to change

who always follow the idiot’s chime

© Francie McGivney 13.10.15