Tag Archives: poetry

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.

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)

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

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

I had a dream the other day 

I had a dream the other day

I couldn’t rid my brain

From the fear Santa was 

On the beer and

Rudolph drank a dram 

The manger  had a baby

The Shepards saw a star

The wise men lost the plot

And the day was on its way

The dog found the tree

The cat upon the top 

The pudding burnt the house

Down with golden burning joy

I woke upon a Friday 

The snow was in the clouds

The dog was lonely howling

The wine was stirring a curse

And I was singing a Christmas 

Tune slaughtering a carols dream

She touched my hand with vigour

I hit the floor with fright 

Santa had delivered 

The Christians were Praying

The Muslims were kneeling

The rest were drinking 

And the kids were playing 

The end (I think) 

Random writing of a Christmas Day because why not) 

Looking Back (a rewrite)

Looking Back

Words drove nails inside

Eyes smiled a frown from your truth

A reminder of country days in field of grey

A curl in need of straying around

The soft lines of your perfect neck

It would have been good of you to tell

To exhale the only breath of beauty

My smile might have worked

My tales could have leapt

The truth you revealed as you walked away

nearly lost to the crowd

As it swayed in its own majestic way

(c) Francie McGivney

Alicante summer 2015 (part 1 the fiat 500)

Alicante summer 2015

Part one the car

It could have been smaller

If it had two wheels and pedals

Enthusiasm for its fuel efficiency

Gave me a similar measure

Of solace while I solved

The containment problem

How to squeeze four bags

Two adults, one lumpy boy

One smart girl, a shoulder bag

Laughter, confusion, squalling

Knees and a wife’s beautiful

Attitude into a fiat 500. I was

The miser, delegated the task

to solve the wonderful quandary

on account of been the gobshite

who inadvisably picked class z

On an economic basis

From the safety of a two hour

And thirty minute distance

Failing miserably in considering

The fitting them all in conundrum

Their eyebrows raised when

I suggested we may have to

Possibly, but not likely get out

And push the ladybird up the

Steep hills. The auburn haired one

Christened it so but I remembered

The Irish way, the father’s punto

The uncoolest ever cream one’s saviour

The high hill’s fast descent to

Stretch beyond the internal combustion

Engines defined limitations to

conquer the summit of the next.

It was all a shocking disappointment

Until the button, the special one we never

Had before, the one to transform the

Pappy Smurf’s dream automobile

vehicle into a super duper, trendy, top

Of the range wonder of a convertible.

Small expanded to the edges of the

Blue sky still capable of fitting

In the rear end of a real motor

The wife was doubtful the

Kids were delightful and I drove

In some state of hopeful