Friday, 25 March 2011

February - June 1999

 A little rant 

To think I thought I had to write
about grand things about the
meaning in every glance
reality running out the door

Cork is slimy full of thoughts
water sitting like cling-film
on the streets mud on her legs


Quiet familiarity, melancholy mood
packs of youths patrolling
territorially the streets and park
hanging on the corners

Tuesday nights 7.30 the top ten
rugrats bay-watch and the Simpsons

Gone from that place where the
shadows and the play of light hold
any meaning, all illusion
no seduction is worth it
walking on thin air,  inside it all

Don’t kid yourself it’s all a gimmick
simple pleasures of trees in the wind
shopping or stirring the soup
antibiotics steroids and inhalers

Dry dusty art space

TV aerials falling trees
subsidence lost keys
debris removal professional fees
there’s surprisingly little interest
in our new credit card

Saturday Sunday buyers select
home insurance fees and charges
- why should I suppress my feelings -
this is your chance to participate
in the future of telecom

Fairy Tale  

as the light fades
the windows mirror us
in the walls of the house

like a fairy-tale
from a children's book
ice tipped peaks
growling bears
notes like feet fall on the stairs

Iron Shamrocks  

Iron shamrocks up above Henchy’s
Lyons and Mulcahy Co.
children flocking in the play ground
clouds hanging high and wide

shaking hedges buses houses
churches and fields beyond
tyre marks on the road
broken trees mud and marsh

- that’s a nice piece of stone walling -
24 hour leisure centre
no more pylons
make a decision
pin it down and hold it fast

write yourself out of this one


The Crescent

gray water through the spruce trees
rounded trunks brown and textured
tops of houses broken fencing
wind caught in her skirt as she
catches a quick glance at the view
that poetic feeling takes hold again

not just a practical matter
what time is it? what kind of day?
immersed the same thing
a backdrop for beauty to stretch time

two-faced slipping into the bath
water slopping around her legs
dreaming of the cross-river ferry
- is this the son and heir? -

an old man steps out gingerly
on to the pavement head stooped
regarding each other as
I step around him

The house is empty     

sitting against the toilet wall
at the back of the church
lying back to take some sun
- we’re only following Europe -

sun on the cut hedge
wind blowing the grass seed
poetry days are like gold dust
walking the tunnel

for sale no offers no time
wasters this is my show
he gave me his poetry book
clouds sliding sideways

dogcat fighting over one brain
you could be in the country
turn on tune in crash out

Bryne Cox Corr and Burke
deal with the business have
you got the right papers?

- this green is so healing -
ugly carpet flies on the rose bush

The North Mall  (Cork)

we share a vision of hours and dates
dreaming together of moss
on the river wall and cement
swinging high above the road
of cobbles dumped on the river
bed and bikes rotting like
carcasses of great fish

railings buried in the pavement
holding out as I go by trying
to avoid eye contact with the
drunks so as not to inflame some
deep-rooted grudge and seagulls
reminding me there’s more air
than ground

The world is turning  

a page in history  the start of a book
clouds unstoppable melt into the glass
launching rails buried under the house
- why should I subsidise her hair cuts -

burnt out shacks tip in the wind
asbestos slates dumped on the shore
broken bricks like giant pebbles
crushed smarties on the pavement

butter wrapper stuck on the bus stop
looking in at the football window
star buy deal sharp video CD player
casio diary Sony play station
£60 pounds the lot

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