Rice College, Westport, Co. Mayo



Why does music speak to us?

It’s because it connects to the truest part of us

The piece of us that has not yet been distorted and shaped by moulds of other people

Music is the only thing that can be truly yours

It can be yours in happiness, sickness or even depression.


Rhymes and Grimes

Getting up before 8

Going to be late

All I want to do is meet my mate

Constantly pressured to date

Frequently losing weight

Wondering how will I make it?

Can I just take a sick day?

Or maybe I’ll just fake it.



Roses are red

Violets are blue

God made me sexy

What happened to you.

Patrick O’Connell


Quiet is my page my head my soul

Waiting for some steps down my dark path

Waiting for a breath down my side

The warm embrace of her

The little flick on and back to reality



Lets take some photography of the geography

It’s so good, its like pornography

Writing my auto-biography

Making so much money

Economic recovery.

Brian Joyce


Life has a lot of all these ups and downs

It will built you right and then just flip it around

You will never ever know what you’ve got til it’s gone

Because the good things in life you think can never go wrong

It isn’t that you just take everything for granted

It’s that you don’t have to dream or even wish that you had it.

So if you ever have a bad day or just feel sick

Just remember that everything will change real quick.

Andrew Currid


A few things that annoys me about Ireland are the way they put down the younger generation and apply pressure which is way too unnecessary.

This pressure is applied to teenagers even though these people are going to be the people who are going to get this country of it’s current mess.

So if they keep putting these teenagers down than this country will never recover.

Alan McHale


We go into society as whole fresh legs but by the end of school our teenage years we come out as a bi-product of this log like a plank a board or a piece of chipboard or a piece of firewood to burn in the furnace of the government. Although some of these logs escape the saw of society and these are the people we read about.


Irish Men

I’m an Irish man, leathered with Irish skin, beard orange as the sun sets. On the flag and the night’s sky we fired proud for the life we fight to live. History I fight for it spit it with a dialect and this is a celebration of course of the great white horse.

And when we pulled up on the shoe first generation born. toast to those who made it on a boat to New York. Then the English came they filled up bottles of gasoline and turned them into balls of flame and hurling to protect with socks lucky charms open to Irish screaming f**k the London Guard go against me Irish and get a bloody preaching of the violence

But remind us of those scars, challange us in football we might lose but don’t put next to a bar stool, we take our history and script in a poem like a torch when you pass it on.

We put are glass to the sky and lift up and live tonight because we can’t take it with ya so raise a point for the people that are with ya and live tonight because we can’t take it with ya.

Fiachra Byrne


Her hands are are tied with the lies she’s been given but why is she so eager to be forgiven.

Making her own crime by acting like a mime, words are so hard to get out when her honesty’s been torn apart, yet she always has a smile to mask her pains denial

Her arms are always itching if she’s not careful she’ll be needing stitching.

It’s not fair that such a beautiful girl is filled with so much despair, crying at night she’s always soaked making a mistake because she’s not even broke.

Failing to breath because of people’s greed, her hearts a dying flame but she’s not to blame, falling into the abyss when all she needs is an honest kiss

Jason Rooney


Her addiction it’s her affliction dying for just one more hit ‘oh she’s just acting the tit’ why’s she so eager for that needle ?

Floating on a cloud of ecstasy I guess that’s just her remedy, falling deeper and deeper into a hole that’s enough for an empty soul.

She’s hiding a fake smile to hide her high of lies soon she starts to cut guess some things aren’t enough.

Her hearts pumping slower could this girl get any lower? liver in bits lungs are dead can’t she live without the dread?

Jason Rooney

Donald Trump

I saw Donald Trump the other day

He was coming out of a convenience store with a baking tray

He looked at me and said “Hey”

I replied and said “Nice toupee”

He took offence to this and threatened to use his powers

I threatened to steal his “small loan of a million dollars”

I was with a group of friends, he called us cowards

I threatened to go back to his house and sniff the white powders.

He became angry and then he said

Listen you don’t want to test me and my street cred”

Your boy Tommy messed with me, now he’s dead

I have his body parts in a cooler in my shed.

He said he hated Tommy, he put him through some pain

We ran over to Trump to end his fame

We killed him and put an end to the

Heartless. Bastard’s. Reign

Nathan Geraghty


Mom’s Spaghetti

I’m nervous but on the surface

I eat spaghetti

Because my palms are sweaty

Knees Weak.

Mom’s Spaghetti

She’s nervous but on the surface

She cooks my spaghetti

Her palms are sweaty

Knees weak while making my spaghetti

I vomited on my sweater already

I don’t like Mom’s Spaghetti.

Mom’s Spaghetti

On the surface I look calm and ready

But I dropped Mom’s Spaghetti

After I vomited on my sweater already

My Mom is heavy

And makes awful spaghetti.

Mom’s Spaghetti

We’re ready

Knees weak

Arms are heavy

There’s vomit on my sweater already

Mom’s pasta.

Kon Jae


This rap is mine

So don’t waste your time!

I’m writing this rap

Whilst I’m having a fap

When you look at 9/11

You think of all these people who went to heaven

But no! F**k Heaven.

When we fly that plane through that rain

All the power fucking into the tower

When you think of terrorism

Good or bad?

In fact, amazing making them towers go blazing

You may have been in pain and to get

Rid of that pain you get pissed in a bar

I didn’t miss the towers

The plane that caused you pain

That caused you to go into that bar

Whilst I’m shouting Allahu akbar!


Travis Harrison

The Rap

There are lots of raps

There are good and there are bad

Rapping, it’s alright

It’s like expressing your feelings, your opinions and decisions

On a simple oral text.

Sometimes you keep some feelings, some opinions

Which you want to express

Rap it’s a good way

To be listened and to listen

To others and to you

Some people think it’s bad

Some people think it’s good

If you want to know

If you are right

You can compare your decisions and opinions

And you will see that everyone is f**ked.

Arnau Vivet


Of all things in life, we do

The thing that makes our dreams come true

Is of course the best of all

The holy sport: the Great Football!

It makes us happy, it makes us sad

It makes us joyous, it makes us mad

Fans sing their songs, sing their chants

Goals make us excited, while penalties make us wet our pants.

With Boring nil-nils, exciting end-to-enders

Clubs with no money, and big, big spender

Some People think that the sport is dreary

To them I’d say – the word of Bill Shankly.

“Some people think football is matter of life and death. I assure you, it’s much more important than that”

Thomas Cannon


I’ve always wanted to be good at some sports. When I was six, I started with football but something happened and I left my team.

Then came basketball, even though I wasn’t into it a lot, and the same thing happened.

For the last four years I was into surfing. I was reading books about it, training and going more often to the beach.

And right now in Ireland I’m into football again. But I feel that my laziness is going to let me do that again.

And I’m not happy with that. I want to be quite good at something and just feel good with myself for what I’ve done.

I have to do this and start it right now

If I want this.

Marcos Aguilar


I was around seven when I first asked a girl out; rejected. A few months later I asked a different girl out in hopes of a different outcome; rejection. Over and over, rejection after rejection, every attempt ended in failure.

By the time I was nine, I stopped trying. All of those moments where I got rejected toughened my broken heart in terms of emotion when it came to relationships.

By the time I was ten, I received my first nickname; “Monkey Arse”. In my head it was a good thing. I didn’t look like a monkey, but I climbed as good as one, still do to this day. I thought I finally achieved something in my crappy life, finally made a few friends, finally got some respect.

By the time I was eleven, I had received my first hit, right to the stomach. I was winded; this was the point I realised the good in some people. The only person who came to help me was the one person I didn’t like. We became good friends; that is until he moved back to Poland when I arrived in secondary school.

First and second year were tough times for me; bullying. I was weak, afraid and lonely, that was until ‘the incident’. I got into a fight with a lad in my year in first year. He had kicked me as hard as he could in the balls, thinking he had won. By God, he was wrong. I had gotten off the ground, fists clenched and eyes fixed on him. It was at this point that he knew he had made a mistake…

He started running away, around the school. I chased him down but my brother had asked a mate of his in second year to keep an eye on me. Before I could catch the one who hurt me, my brother’s mate caught me in front of the school, telling me to stop. I ignored him and pushed past him. Then he and his friends had restrained my arms so they thought it would stop me. It was then I realised how strong I really was. I dragged all of the second years towards the guy who hurt me. When I lost sight of him, I gave up.

I got into a fight later that year this time with the twins. I lost. But after I had fought them the strangest thing happened. To this day we are best friends. I finally had a group of friends I could call my own.

TY came along; that year changed my life. Just after the Junior Cert exams, my other friends tried to get me to shift someone. I refused, not because I didn’t want to, but because they wouldn’t leave us alone. After the summer holidays, I met her at a disco, we shared a moment there. A few days later, we started going out. I finally felt good about myself. My self-esteem became better until yesterday, after four months, she broke up with me. I felt like crap. I cried myself to sleep that night. In the morning, I told my mum, and when I went to school I told my soundest teacher. He helped me through it. Then I came into this class. That’s what cheered my up immensely, and got me over it. I went back to normal, low self-esteem, not much confidence and a happy lifestyle.



I like to complain. I complain about everything. No matter the subject, I will find a way to complain about it. I like to complain about complaining. Everything has a negative that I will use to fuel my need to complain. I don’t list the positives because the negatives overshadow them always. If something is bad; I’ll complain about it being too bad. If something is good; I’ll complain about it being too good. In the end, everything can be complained about. As I said, I like to complain.

Dylan Ralph


Football does more that some appreciate

It brings people together to celebrate

From very young, you dream of being a legend

But to be the best it takes more than fate in the end.

The brilliance of winning,

The sadness of losing

Most sports are not the same

Cause you play football for the love of the game.

Alex O’Riain

The Best

Being the best, it’s very hard. It takes work, practice and lots of other things. But to be the best you have to have determination; without determination you will never be the best. You also have to try to be the best, it will never come to you, you have to work towards it.

For example, Lewis Hamilton, the Formula 1 driver, signed for Mercedes-Benz at the age of thirteen for international karting. He worked from five years to thirteen years to now. He had determination to keep going forward even when he thought he had no chance. So never give up………….. ever!

Conor Sheridan

The Sky

I am scared of what I am daring every day

The sun comes out when I see it sometimes

I am in the long wild grass every day of my life

I am like the joy and excitement for the rest of my life

I sleep for three days when I’m very tired

And think about what I’m saying to myself

When I look in the sky

I see life and happiness in the sky.

Karl Hastings


At 9:00 am Monday morning

We walk in the doors

Another week at school

The homework is a pain

I do not like it

The days are too long

And the year goes really slow

The summer is good



Tea, tea oh how I love thee

What’s better than a good cup of rosie

Two sugars and a dash of milk

If you put milk in first, you’re a curse

While the kettle is boiling

The biscuits I’m un-foiling

Tea bag in first

Otherwise you’re a curse

Pouring the water as you look down

Watching the water turning brown

Two sugars and a dash of milk

If you put milk first you’re a curse

Sitting with my feet up

Thinking nothing is better than the tea in my cup

Elliot McDonnell, with help from Dylan Ralph & Simon McDonnell

Never Alone

The clock ticks as the time grows near

The boy broken as his glasses were many times before

Utter despair as he knows what is to come

The boy’s mind craves that surrounds him

But now believes he will never achieve this…….Ring!!


The bell rung like the artillery on D-Day

As the boy prepped to hit the beach

Confronted by his enemy he begins to run

Black eyes, bloody noses, bruising

Hide the emotional scars

Every day the boy felt the pain he never deserved.

As the beat him to the tune of mourns of agony

A shadow blocked by the sun

Day turned night

A hand reached out of the boy

You are never alone.



Every thought, every word, every picture

Is a product – a part

Of your mind, your passion

Your imagination

You are in a world of your own

A world of your own; Yes!

But some…must suffer their world



Why must they suffer?

Why are they alone?

Can someone not come?

Can they not be brought home?

These people lose their power for passion and pride

For they are hurt from side to side.

No, not hurt, not with a punch

If you do not know, I bequeath thee a hunch

What causes the pain they sustain

It’s words


Not punches , nor kicks, nor fists

But words


Through our own imagination we can cause hurt

And well – I find this absurd.

Dáire Hunter