Not so much looking down as across..

Saturday, October 8, 2022

April 2022

  Kyiv verses

 

These lines are written 

With the finish still unknown

To this Russian war from hell

Unleashed by the mad Putin. 

 

We thought for years that wars

Were prisoners of the history books

Film titles long enshrined

In the concrete of the mind. 

 

Yes, we heard of foreign battles

Syria, Yemen and Afghanistan

But they were over ‘there’

Outside our conscious zone. 

 

The big battles were all fought

All soldiers dead, fifty years ago

The heroes of war movies 

Not the here and now. 

 

We fought our battles on the screens

With popcorn in our armchairs

Not in blood in army trenches

Not with people we recognized. 

 

Now it’s real, now it’s human

Now it’s close and personal

The West is fighting hard

With fair Ukraine as cover. 

 

There is the chance of a mistake

A careless lighter finds the grass

A conflagration that consumes us all

The dice is thrown, the ball’s in play. 

 

This war has shown us that the stakes

Rise higher all the time

Our colours lie nailed to the mast

To achieve a peace that lasts. 

April 19th

 

 You have no idea

 

You have no idea what it is to give your young life

To the service of the Lord in your teenage years 

When friends are busy tracing steps 

Across a college or an office floor. 

 

You’ve never asked and indeed why would you?

What it’s like to turn your back on life

When life has just begun and you have come 

To harvest early fruits that freedom brings. 

 

Sunday afternoons not spent at football matches

But in tidy rooms where disinfectant

Mingles with the scent of weekend incense

And a Sunday silence lies flat and still. 

 

You haven’t faced the final questions

Time and again from earnest preachers

Who speak of hell that will consume us

If we fail to clear our conscience. 

 

Lives of serenity steeped in anxiety

Weeks of silence but the voices echo

In the nights, lonely and abandoned 

When our lives escape our grasp. 

 

Lived against the cliff of time

When eternity starts each sentence

When we hope that God or heaven 

Has inspired this solo journey. 

 

Is all of this a waste of time and youth?

Would we be better in the pub on Friday night?

This God that seems to come and go

Can prove elusive when we join the fight. 

 

It’s ups and downs of course 

There is no refuge when we leave the world 

It follows us and gives us joys and pains

We cannot leave our true selves, we hope. 

 

 

 

Saints and sad men now our companions

Some should leave and some should stay

One thing for sure, it takes some courage

To stay the course or call it a day. 

 

 

 

 May in Dun Laoghaire

 

Minding my own business, heading for a haircut

Locking up my bike when a lovely voice behind

Captures me and people stand and listen

This superb summer day in Dun Leary centre.

 

Turning back, I find some change 

And leave it on her jacket

While she moves seamlessly

From Sinatra to Flamenco. 

 

It gives me pleasure to see who gives

And who passes as she sings her repertoire

Young and old, yes, mostly old

Who slowly bend and toss a coin. 

 

Old ladies with umbrellas on a sunny day

Just in case the forecast proves false again

Give their widows mite while their silver hair

Shines in the bright noonday sun of May. 

 

This piece of heaven arrives without a warming

Like nearly all the best things - a surprise

A voice that’s rich enraptures the builder’s crew

Sitting in the sun, captures me and you. 

 

She sings in English and in Spanish 

And while we ponder which magic part of Spain

She sings an Argentinian air for compatriots

Who embrace with double kiss and dance for fun.  

 

St Michael’s church a backdrop

Pigeons hunt for crumbs from school kids 

Tradesmen stop awhile whistling the familiar tune

Only in Dun Laoghaire will you hear a girl from Buenos Aires sing. 

 

 

 

 Surprises

 

I surprised my darling with a flower

And she thought it lovely

And thought it better than

Expensive presents for her birthday. 

 

I like Jesus because he too

Did what was not expected 

He healed the poor and blind

He dined with the rejected. 

 

Mixing with the wrong sort

Getting up the noses 

Of the genteel people 

Who lived in better houses. 

 

Get rid of him they did

But only three days later

He surprised his friends and critics 

By rising from the chamber. 

 

We cannot plan our happiness

That comes when we’re not looking

It comes as a surprise 

It comes when we’re not asking. 

 

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