Not so much looking down as across..

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Dear Mother Earth, Dear me.

What right have we
To screw the world?
And leave it waste
For other beings
Those yet to come
And those aborted
By our blind and senseless

Come nurture, harbor
And restore
Create, enhance, enrapture,
And safeguard.

Living less that others
Get the chance
To live at all.
Wasting less and leaving more
Why not toil to keep this world ?

One of millions
Yet the only one
That's home and core
To man and God
As best we know.

It's worth the candle
Let's trim the wick
Light up the world
For slow and quick.

We do not own
We simply borrow
A day, a breath
A house, a home.
Children come
And parents go.

The grave or cask
Our resting place
No rent or rates
Water charges or council tax
No views to sea
No noisy neighbors
Just the quiet chill
Of serenity
In the cypress bound
Local cemetery.

We work and toil.
We bake and boil
No word with love
Ever lost or stolen

Spring in Powerscourt

I spent the lovely April day
Examining a cloud from May
It danced and glided cross the sky
It left and didn't say goodbye.

That's the thing with clouds I heard
They take their leave without a word
But just as quietly they wander in
And frame the blue with smile and grin.

I know there's times they're cold and blowy
The winter clouds are white and snowy
But April clouds are a different lot
Reminding us of all we've got

The busy birdsong hymns the meadow
Above green fields and beyond the hedgerow
Foals and horses silky haired
Happily chomp the springtime fare.

Good to be alive and good to see
The annual miracle for you and me
Despite the crisis and the woe
Nature bursts forth like times before

Flying out

The sleepy fliers
Gently snore
Six miles above
The ocean floor.

The harried crew
Smile and toil
Up the aisles
Of this metal coil.

The lady's had
too much to drink
She's downing gins
As down a sink.

The guilty couple
Holding hands
They're Cheating twice
As love demands.

The rocks and cliffs
Way Down below
The soft white surf
Does brightly glow.

Today I journey
All alone
Above the clouds
So far from home.

What awaits
I do not know
This is my life
But not my show.

It's good to travel
For the soul
To find oneself
Becoming whole


Bow wow

Little puppy, you're so happy
Waggy tail, so fun and bouncy
Loyal, cheerful and excusing
Curious, playful and amusing.

Innocent eyes and busy teeth
Tear away at pillow and sheet.
Nothing's sacred, nothing's safe
Happy at play and happy to meet.

The world seems young and fun again
The tv news drones on and on
Not a care in the world
You're my special girl.

Tenerife sunset

I watch the waves
As in a haze
Enjoy the spray
At end of day.
Soak up the surf
Enjoy the surge
A healing balm
A mental purge.
The swell comes roaring
Only to retreat
And ebb with flow
Where the white waters meet.

And so our lives both ebb and flow
Scaling heights then file below
The sea of life will throw us a line
If not at once, then in it's own time

Close to heaven



Thoughts on an airplane flight


The farmer in heaven

Has ploughed the white fields

Of fluffy clouds

The bobbly clouds

Straight in serried furrows

Porous cover the sea and land

Lying down below, below

And so this miracle of man

And science, unbelievably

Races just below heaven

And far above earth


The early flight now takes it's toll

And fellow travellers doze and curl

In Foetal balls

Both pretty girls with hair in buns

And eyes made heavy with lashes

And golden bodies

From the Canarian sun

And strong limbed youths

With new tattoos

Lie half asleep

Like helpless babes.


The safest way to travel, we learn,

Hung half way between earth and sky


Overworked and underpaid for what they do

At times annoying but mostly patient crew

Go up and down the tiny aisle

And cramped as crabs

Caught in summer buckets

They toil to and fro

Administer to high and low


The youthful parents

Struggle with the crying babies

The silver haired

Perhaps forget that once they too

Were those couples

Who scrimped and saved

To carve a special fortnight

In the sun, away from rain

Escape awhile from sapping news

That keeps repeating on the loop

The news that never ends

Rarely lifts our exhausted senses


And on and on

The white fields run

Above the earth

Below the sun

Like heavy snow

Untouched by man

No footprints on the arctic scape

That runs for miles and miles

From here to infinity

From now to eternity
Leadership and other thoughts, August 2012
He had the gift
We felt the lift
Smiling as you met
Laughing as we left
Time for only you alone
For in that moment
You were the only one
It was simply you and him
How was it that you felt
Did resistance melt?
It may have been a spell
No one could really tell
But no one cared
And no one spared
Their joyful giving
For the cause was living
Tired but happy fools perhaps
Ecstasy and agony
Mattered not a bit
Content to serve
A cause bigger than ourselves
Carpe Diem!
Seize the day, squeeze it dry
Drink the sun while it’s high
Smell the beans, enjoy the taste
Grasp the moment, none to waste.
Embrace the person, next to you
Give one last hug, it might be true
You can save your money, but not your time
I may be poor but the ‘now’ is mine
For money blinds and dulls the sight
Looking the wrong way with all it's might
I've got today, that's all maybe
I’ve got you, that’s enough for me
Joyce’s regret
The startling clouds
All black and gold
Sit on the Dublin Hills
They threaten and give joy
What holds him back
From seeing Dublin Bay again?
Written in his heart
Strangled by strange pride
The passing years build up the wall
And lower the rampart floor
A virtue is fashioned needlessly
Quietly at night the familiar  calls
Of sea gull and of cormorant
Gone forever the three steeples
Of Glasthule and Dun Laoghaire
The handsome granite piers
Hewn from Dalkey quarry
And all the while the clouds bank up
Layer by layer over Sandymount Strand
Gone and gone is Dun Leary of the soul
A bitter price for artistic pride
The August evening sun peeps above
And hugs the gentle waters
Licking handsome terraced houses
Keeping watch over a changing sea
Ireland of his youth
Dublin of his dreams
Now but the artists palette
In a coast less land
Early hint of autumn in Churchtown, Dublin 14
Sitting here in the shade
Of the spreading tree
In leafy Castle Park
Car door and windows open
A gentle breeze
Rustles the leaves
Beneath the pale blue china sky
A warming sun
Full of August promise
The first few leaves
Of the early Irish autumn
Scurry along the pavement
Like playful schoolboys
Hurrying nowhere in particular
With carefree insouciance
And joyful innocence.
This magic  moment
Only came to be
Through a haircut
For an aging lady
Of almost ninety three
Confused of days and hours
Bravely facing loss of powers
The common fate of missing
The early death of friends
The nether coin side
Of the doubtful blessing
Of advanced old age.
Is how we live
The path to how we age?
And do we die
To live again?
In that same style
With little parts
That echo God
Whatever that may mean
A pigeon calls
In Castle Park
In trees above
The handsome homes
And gleaming cars
A man with silver hair
Cleans clubs with care
And sounds of grass being cut
Are punctured by the Angelus bell
From Churchtown church
Midday sounds
There is sleepy sunny peace around
While hair is cut
And ladies prolong their style