Perceptions of Worlds
Reading is life.
People ask, how can you sit and read for so long?
I ask, how can you stand and run for so long?
It’s what makes you feel alive.
Reading is life.
I am told to put down the book and socialise.
They are told that the people who understand you the most,
Are born from books but grow in your imagination.
Who can be a better friend than that which is an extension of yourself?
Reading is life.
I am told to put away the book and see the world for once.
They are told that the world is what you perceive it to be.
If I choose to explore a thousand different worlds through words,
How is that any less real than what you see through presence?
The world is how you see it.
Some people see flashing images,
Blurred with their rushed joy.
Some people see one world,
Secure and loved in its continuity.
I see infinite lives and universes,
Made of words and ink and paper and imagination.
School Bag in hand,
I walked down to strand
Listening to the song,
Of my most favourite band.
As I walked along
The soft sandy shore
All the words came back
Slut, Slag, bitch and whore.
I shut them out
All these words of hate
That have eaten me up
And I’ve taken the bait.
So as I watch all these words
Drift out to sea,
I think to myself
I will be who I want to be.
Eye of the Storm
Blood be smooth,
As man is sleep
But wind and sky storm beneath.
Black bitter blows those,
Eating away all skin
Soaring symphony sings
Rose rain shines red
Like lake light.
Yet between cool blue water.
And waxy warm sun,
Gorgeous gardens are you
And raw diamond.
I watch as though these
Fast days here heave like
Like live music,
Language screams “not never me.”
Why run above in heads?
But not who me.
Some lick purple picture death
My ship of me
Sailing the sea
Of herbs and trees,
Green grass grows
Beneath my fat.
But beaten bulbs
And sore bark trees,
Lie between closed sheets
Of rotten leaves
Only to be forgotten about,
Until the next heave.
Leaving behind me
What I hope to be
Only quiet, clear calm peace.
Only to discover
The power of creation
Is within thee.
Invisible, she can’t even see herself
She’s lost, like an old box, dusty on a shelf.
We walk past her, pretending not to see,
Plus I wouldn’t want attention of strangers if that was me.
Struggling to see the brighter side of the day,
We tell her that it will all be okay
But how can we know what she’s going through
Yea help is great but we really haven’t got a clue.
We ask her what’s wrong. Is someone bothering her?
They don’t know that sometimes it’s not others that can cause the hurt.
We grow up in a generation
Where bullying is an abomination
And causing other people pain results in a suspension
Yet the things in our head are rarely talked about,
The voices in our mind that we want to rip out.
Telling you you’re not good enough, you never will be,
There’s no point in trying, you won’t succeed.
Our generation is bred in, get over it, its fine.
Yeah it’s tough but from our struggles we climb.
It’s great that we grow from our falls and our blows,
But at the time we don’t see that positive road.
The light in the dark is like a torch.
You Are Special Honey
I come from a Universe
I come from a Galaxy of millions and billions and trillions of everything
I come from a Solar system in that Galaxy
I come from a planet, I come from Earth
I come from a continent, I come from Europe
I come from a country, I come from Ireland
I come from a province, I come from Leinster
I come from a small village, I come from Kilkenny.
I come from a small district, I come from Dicksboro
I come from two people, my parents.
And yet I am special.
I am entirely unique.
I am brilliant.
There is no one else like me.
There is no one like you.
Stop, think, why are there so many haters in this world
Stop, think, why do they call me negative words just to bring me down
Stop, think, before u hate on me look at you, do u not have something better to do
Stop, think, the words you say will affect others.
Stop, think, you got issues that u need to sort out
Stop, think, do u hate yourself because I’m a reflection of what u want to be
Stop, think, can you make someone feel better about themselves instead of putting them down.
Will They Ever Really Know Me?
Everywhere I look they’re all the same
Tall, skinny and rich with a long blonde mane
Laughing and insulting the girl who they call lame
Their only longing in life is for some fame.
They’re all so caught up in their own lives
Waiting for another package of new clothes to arrive
They don’t know how tough life can be
When asking for money there’s no guarantee.
Even though my Mam does her best
There never seems to be a time when she isn’t stressed
And even though she tells me I’m blessed
When I see what my friends have I get depressed.
I love my friends and they’re great
But there’s a part of me that will just have to wait
To tell them about what my life is really like
It would be something new to them like riding a bike
Even when bad things in life pile
Just say to yourself life must go on.
Turning left right never ever know what to do
I do my best, leave the nest ahead of the rest
Still no one comes through
Longing for a new time
Wanting to climb to new places and leave it all behind
New people new worlds
Maybe I can start to become one
I won’t run, I won’t run
I will survive
Meet new folk
May provoke me to have a fling
And find new bees for me to wean
A family all I ever dreamed
One day it will come, this I know
I shall show the smug, not to mug
The one who was always below.
Every day I walk a steep hill
Never knowing what’s to come
My thoughts going around in my head like a bass drum
Thump Thump Thump.
I’m all right or maybe i’m all wrong
Public opinion ripening for so long
Thoughts coming at me like a speed bump
Thump Thump Thump.
Siobhan Mullan & Aisling Morrissey
In a world with so many advances,
Why do stereotypes still exist?
Why is it ok for girls to cry,
But boys are seen as weak?
Why is a girl’s place seen as in the home
While boys are free to roam?
I lie alone, enveloped in darkness,
My mind races with endless questions
The blade hue embraces my heart.
What is the point of this life?
Of being granted a few short
Years to casually waste them away?
I feel myself being lowered deeper
As if into dark, cold soil
I lie motionless, almost afraid to move
I feel the vastness of the universe crush me
It taunts me, laughing as I perish.
They say you’re just a half
Person that since you have
Asthma it makes you less then you are.
They say that life’s not worth living
As hell would be better than
This heartless place.
They say that they never wanted
You, you were an unplanned
They say they’re using you,
Your just there to entertain
That you’re to stay away.
But what they say may not
Always be what you want to hear.
What they say hurts you
Every time, and every time
You hear it, it just gets worse,
Like deafening tears . . .
They say they’re fine but you
Know deep down that, that
Person putting on a forced face,
Crying inside is you.
The Hopes of a Butterfly
I want the world to be free,
From the daily struggles,
Abuse, racisms, inequality
I want women to be able to speak,
Black people to be able to learn,
And gay people to be loved, and loved back
I don’t want anybody
To be stared at, laughed at, mocked
For doing what every person
Should be able to do.
I don’t want to feel guilty for being privileged
I want everybody to be equal,
I just want the world to be free, like a butterfly
Able to float, without boundaries
Change and grow without
The world staring.
Time and thoughts
These memories bring on waves of regret,
They come and they go but I can never forget.
I surround myself with a past that floods my mind,
And the waves come crashing down and it’s you I’ll always find
And sometimes we feel infinite and sometimes we do not.
Why are moments measured by the hands of a clock?
Time is something I can never comprehend,
Nothing ever really feels like the end.
There’s a wall between my tongue and my brain,
I can never say the words my thoughts sustain
The words confuse me they always get stuck,
Maybe I’m better off to keep my mouth shut.
So basically, all my life I’ve never been able to express myself to people
It’s not that I’m scared to or get nervous
It’s just i don’t know how!
It seemed like every time I tried to say something or tell a story
I ended up sounding like an eejit!
I feel like I have got better at expressing myself to new people
And have found a way to be comfortable with myself
And showing others who the real me is!
But I still know I’m not fully there yet,
There is still some circumstances where I can’t be myself,
And I’m not OK with that and I never will be.
I want to be me and I want to be able to show other people who the real me is
When I can do that
I think something beautiful will happen
I’ll experience happiness of making other people happy
And being happy with them
Allowing people to see the real me
The me that was born,
Not the person I think other people ant me to be
Our would can be a hard place
Even for those who put on a brave face
It could be poverty, hatred, violence or war
Anything so little can go so far
On the other hand the world can be a good place
Even when hardship is thrown in your face
Every person girl or boy
Deserves an equal world of joy.
Tapping, tapping got it out of her head
But the fact that she knew that tattooed it in her skull
Ingrained it in her mind that when she tapped
She was aware of what devoured her soul.
A tap of recognition was better than thinking, right?
Admitting defeat is half the battle, right?
Crossing the doorway between worry and realism where the tap
Was the devious intended gate keeper.
Where the tap enabled her to look and stare at the hurt she had become
Where tapping was the proof that this would never, and could never end
Where the tap stood above her, pointing laughing mocking
Gradually eating away at the sanity she still had left.
Yet she still tapped, it’s what the doctor ordered.
Because a degree on the wall always overrules the minutiae of the human mind
Our society is poison
A poison that goes through your veins and into your heart.
It affects us
No matter how much we try to avoid it and tell ourselves we are unique
It affects us.
Girls and boys who are maturing are being told how to act and how to sit and speak
Speak clearly they say but yet we can’t…
We speak our minds but yet it is pushed aside
Wait till you finish school they say.
We compare ourselves to others even though the most popular aren’t ok inside they are the same,
Looking in the mirror at your nose, mouth, legs
Shaming yourself because it’s not what the TV shows
Too fat, too skinny
Elders and teachers tell us to study
They say everything will work out
But yet this is the time to find ourselves and embrace ourselves.
Underage drinking everywhere, weed and dealers down the streets.
Depression and suicide every corner.
We need our society to change, to accept genders, and face the truth
TV ads trying to fix the damage
It isn’t working because they still choose the closest to perfect
To promote their new products and designs
It’s all lies
It affects us, all of us, the tall, the small, the weak and the strong.
She has eight hundred Instagram followers i only have three
Makes it hard to post a picture so much pressure to be
The way society expects of both you and of me
The world is changing cant be yourself have to be like everyone else
You don’t post pictures on instagram you don’t have a life
But when you do have to make sure you get over 100 likes
And then there’s Facebook and there’s Snapchat as if other pressures aren’t there
Now it’s all about your clothes and the length of your hair
Changes the way that you think and how you view you
You have to be like everyone else nothing else is gonna do.
When I was younger the world seemed brighter
My only fears were spiders,
The boogie monster, the devil, the dark
What’s under the bed or what lurks in the park.
It was like I was in a bubble protected from the world
Everything seemed so big and scary.
I went to my first wake at the age of 7
It was like hoping for them to stir
But the dead never do.
I tried to dream about them,
Pretend nothing was wrong
I visit their grave
A dark empty room
Trying to escape
No doors or windows
Walls are closing
Beneath a sky without stars.
“I’m buried deep in mass production
You’re not nothing new” – Iggy Pop
We all look the same in the clothes that we wear
But no the same coloured eyes and or the same coloured hair.
We are all the same in the way that we act,
It was not a question, it is but a statement of fact.
We want to be different but we fear far too much
What if they whisper? Or stare? Or say “she looks rough?”
We are so set stuck in our fears and insecurities that we hide behind a uniform
A uniform of the same hairstyles, clothes and looks
We degrade and mock those who prefer to read books.
We are a uniform
A uniform of young people who grew up too fast
A uniform of young people who seem to finish last
A uniform of young people so caught up in an act that we forget who we are
A uniform of young people who go just that little bit too far.
Feminism is a word used by people
Some people know the true meaning of this word
Some people know the misconception of this word
To some people this word means equality for all genders
To some people this word means man hating
A feminist can wear makeup
A feminist can be a man
A feminist does not believe women are superior to men
I am a feminist.
If I could change the past I would
I would change everything if I could
The way I dressed, the way I looked, the way I talked
But I suppose there were better parts than not
When I was younger, it all seemed so simple
Where the most daunting thing in life was getting a pimple
But as you get older, it all begins to change
And only then do you appreciate what you’ve left behind
Its all too hard now to get up in the morning
The thoughts of what lays ahead
And sometimes on a bad day, you just want to go to bed
But then you stop and think of those around you and push on ahead.
Looking in the mirror is hard when you’re a fifteen-year-old girl
It’s hard to describe.
It’s difficult to say how you feel imperfect when you have two arms, two legs, two eyes and a nose
A functioning brain isn’t enough these days
It’s petty and selfish. But it’s not something I can help
I’m vain, I could stare for hours at my reflection in that hell of an object
Because that’s what it is. My personal hell.
On the surface, at first glance, there’s no problems
But I can see deeper
I can see the unwanted lumps and bumps
I can see the disproportion, the scars and the bruises
Sometimes it’s not enough to cover up the mirror
Or close my eyes
I can’t stop looking.
It’s always on my mind.
Like a drug, I’m lost without it.
I have someone who calls me beautiful.
It doesn’t work. Because it’s not true.
The only person I would ever believe is myself.
And I can see.
Mirrors don’t lie.
The Hard Stuff
The place I grew up in was rough
The next thing I knew I was injecting that hard stuff
The drugs I used weren’t hard to find,
The people I got them from paid me no mind
At first I felt grown
Always at home on my own
Thought it was a ghost
Turns out it was the post… man
The smallest things made me angry
My loved ones no longer wanted to be around me
One day I was high after using up all I had
I knew I needed to reform; I needed it bad
3 years on I’m lying in my bed realising that I should be dead
Looking back on my fall
I realised the drugs weren’t worth it at all.
Ali, Katie, Laura & Tara
Down by the ocean on a golden summers day
The crystal blue water shimmers in the bay
A candlelit dinner fully prepared
As a cold wind blows
Goose bumps rise
So he gives me his coat
Then we sail away
On a beautiful boat
We drink champagne beneath the falling stars
And talk about the adventure of life
Then he gets down on one knee
And now I’m his wife.
Scared, worried, start.
Waiting for the clack
Long elegant dive
Gliding through the pain
Stroke after stroke, length after length
My weakness turning into my strength
I feel my lungs now, gasping for air.
My opponents suddenly becoming aware.
My pain is coming to a close
As I feel my body having been overthrown
By the satisfaction of winning three golds.
Some say it is one of the greatest inventions of all time
People are able to socialise for less than a dime
Facebook, Snapchat, Twitter and Instagram
Could we really think of a better invention of our time?
It has so much freedom, people can really express
Put the strength of their Facebook friends to the test
They can tell us we look ugly, hideous and even stupid
Making us feel undeserving and muted.
It can make us feel alone, deserted and worthless too
All because of the untrue words said by a few.
A few people out of the billions all together,
Just enough to make us feel ‘under the weather’.
How could people make us feel this good
Just as we always should
How could we thank social media for the joy?,
For being the greatest invention of lives to destroy!
The home I knew best was no palace
It was no castle nor a million dollar mansion
The home I knew best could not be found on a map
Or any device in this world. It didn’t have a number or a name
They all wonder how I get there but to tell the truth
I never have left.
It’s in my mind, its in my heart
That’s where it is in my daddy’s arms.
As I drift into sleep I know I am safe and minded all night.
Why Do We Need School?
I don’t even see why we there’s a need for school
Sitting in these chairs are painful and cruel.
Teacher always give out while they teach
Give me a tablet and I’ll learn on the beach.
The most annoying thing of all are these exams and these tests
Get rid of them to hell, ’tis is a challenging request.
We are just kids, yes knowledge we seek
But our education system is definitely weak.
That’s my argument done and complete
Ignore the government rules, we’ll all just cheat.
How Many More Minutes?
How many more minutes
Until the bell rings
So I can go
To Burger King.
How many more minutes
Till I can go home
And feed my dog
A big fat bone.
How many more minutes
Will it be till the end
Where the heck
Is my friend???
How many more minutes
Until can leave
I have a few tricks
Up my sleeve.
How many more minutes
Until I can go
I don’t even know!
How long is left in this hell hole
Oh no, everyone left
A long time ago!!
The Underdog and the Fair Lady
The story of unrequited love is too often told
The average boy lusts for the godly girl
After a series of unlikely shenanigans
He gets her
For she is the object
The epitome of femininity
He is Joe Bloggs
The scrappy underdog with no real personality
Apart from his lazy humour and every man appeal
He is the perfect man
Created by a capitalist world
To relate to all men
Giving them impossible standards
They deserve her
They deserve this woman
What she wants is irreverence.
Could she not see what she could’ve had
These selfish women just judge on looks
They don’t bother to peel back
See what’s inside.
Like a Pig
The old way of torture
Gut him like a pig
Upside down on a meat hook
His body swings from side to side
While he’s still alive and wriggling
He screams, he shouts
Choking on his guilt
Gasping for a breath he’s never gonna breathe
His hanging body there as a warning
It swings from side to side
Good little piggy
Bad little piggy.
Just a Glove
Always being used
In summer being abused
The sun is for blame
You’d think I’d be handy
Prefer ice cold milk
Or diet coke, but not hot brandy
That seems to take away the pain
Feeling so unloved
Too bad I’m just a glove.