C.B.S. Mitchelstown, Co. Cork



The phone hit the flecked cream door frame

The white back and battery coming to a tumbling stop

Resting against the orange and black tiled fireplace

Shattered screen like the shattered dreams dripping

From the bridge of his spotted, freckled nose

Lost in the depths of the heavy, deep carpet. Lost

He lets it all pour out – the anguish, anxiety

Soul-shattering feeling that has simply defined him

And just now the way he feels about her.

Three years now, she is what he uses to hold onto

Life, with his clammy blood-spattered grip.

Her low, firm frame silhouettes his dreams

Or nightmares, every time she threatens

To walk away, bringing the hate, the fear, the hurt

Flooding back, once again defining him.

And as she talks, in her soft, yet somehow completely

Animated tone, about the next heartbreaking, obscene

Idiot boy in her life, he looks into the back of her

Pale blue eyes, and it returns, and he knows

That he’ll never, ever be it. “The One”.

And it returns, the empty, harrowing sound

Deep in the back of his teary, brown eyes reflected

In the back of the phone.


Cathal Walsh ‘Grady

We Seek

We seek upon a new destiny

As what we do now is judged

Try to move what cant be budged.

We inspire,

We inspire and act honest

All though our actions are covering

Our meaning that has built up inside

In that place we try to hide.

We try

We try to change our life to suit others

Chase dreams, ambitions, lovers.

We ask?

We ask ourselves is this the life we want?

Because what you see through an eyes

That does not satisfy.

We answer

We have a answer and that is to change

As we don’t like to be in our own skin

Try to change what’s outside from within.

We cry,

We cry inside and we smile

We smile outside although people can’t see what you’re going through.

We run

We run from ourselves because we seek

We inspire

We try and we cry.


We believe that if we are someone else

We might just fit in.

Mikey Keating

Rock and Roll is dead

I’m not gonna beat around the bush here

But this is really getting on my tits.

The music business is really turning to shit

Songs with no words and sounds coming out of boxes

Now all we have is songs about foxes

What happened to Elvis and U2 as well

One Direction fucked it up and it’s true you can tell

No sex, drugs and rock n roll

The music scene now is funded by the dole

There is nothing conceptually better than rock n roll

John Lennon said this and I agree with that

Lyrics now mean nothing

There cast in the sun

Tramps like us

Baby we were born to run.

Kevin O’Brien

The Creatures

The howl and growl in the morn

The sight of company, they yearn.

The eager creatures are calling

A new life they are so desperately wanting

The shouts from behind the doors

Of creatures covered with scars, scrapes and sores

These wretched creatures are scared

But these creatures have survived and are being cared.

But for the others who remain undiscovered

The starving, the thirsty, the neglected,

the wounded, the tortured, the dead.

These are creatures that may never be recovered.

When will these people learn?

That creating torture and pain is cruel

It is the endeavour of mankind’s cesspool

For now the howl and growl in the morn

Echo from the cages of the lab rat’s dawn.

Kevin Coleman

The Piano

I play the keys for hours

For hours everyday

The strings are hit with comfort

A comfort when I play

The ivory’s assuring

I can never tell why

Maybe it’s because I never

Have to wonder why:

Why everything bad is happening

Why everything moves so slow

Why people don’t really listen,

It’s not really clear, although

When music’s ever played,

It plays a part in everyday

‘Cause when I play the keys for hours

Everyday’s OK.

Eamonn Walsh

Internet Madman

I work at home, to my followers amazement

Trying to escape my inexplicable displacement

I’ll admit it, I’m impatient and complacent but –

I don’t troll, I make statements

I’m not a cliché sitting in my PJ’s

I’m like Drake , so don’t hate me

It’s neglect when you don’t appreciate me,

Hey, I’ll put the world right

And when I’m a big boy I’m gon’ write for “Life”

If it’s not for me it must be wrong

I could ignore it or move on,

But I’m a broadband champion

An internet madman

And if you call it art, I’ll have to take it apart,

I’ve got a in depth game plan

An internet madman.

I’m white boy rapping tearaway- Think I’m “Jay”

what date is it today?

“You need to lose weight, update, aggravate and agitate”

Online Warrior that can’t spell

“I don’t like you, I think you’re worthless”

I wrote a long piece about it up on my WordPress

If it’s not for me it must be wrong,

I should ignore it or move on,

But I’m a broadband champion

An internet madman


Black Velvet

Words thrown around

Attention seeker!


He needs to get over himself


They don’t know the struggles

Of this person’s pain

For they are not in this persons brain

Nor have been dealt this Joker’s card.


The feeling of being alone

The pangs of anxiety

Worried about how they will cope on this day

Feeling lost and confused with life

Like there’s no light at the end of my tunnel.


This person is frightened by the idea of help

For i fear being labelled and set aside from the others

And then my light will become dimmer

And living becomes harder

And finding love becomes a lost dream

I lay in bed night after night

Wishing and hoping

Tomorrow doesn’t come

But I wake up the next day and face the hard reality

It has come

And push myself to get through it.


What these people don’t realize is

Everyday I survive

I become that much stronger

And the longer I prevail

The shorter my time of pain becomes.


It is not a joke nor a cult

It’s time to realise

Depression is serious.

Kevin A.Finn

Fake Friends

Thinking that the friendship is true

Thinking he would risk it all for you

Trusting him fully with your life

Not knowing he’s waiting there with a knife

A knife to lodge straight into your back

In your heart you will feel the whack

Finding out he’s a snake in the grass

Thinking he’s your friend but in the end, alas

You thought that ye were both like brothers

But now you can finally see his colours

Being In school you might just bust

Because you never know who you can trust.

You think its you that you did something wrong

You try to hold it in you try to stay strong

It takes a while before you realise

The entire friendship it was all lies

He lied his way true your barriers and walls

He would be there for your triumphs and fails

But now that you actually need a friend

And there’s no one there you see in the end

All along the friendship was fake

Just know that this friend is a glass snake.


Life with a Physical Disability

For a 16 year boy with a condition called muscular dystrophy

At times it isn’t easy, you feel low and and not good enough

Growing up being normal able to run and play sports, and now

Not even able to get yourself back up from a chair without

Assistance, you feel there’s a lot of resistance on being self dependent.


By not being able to run and play games being physically disabled isn’t fun

But as some forget the mental side to it

It’s heartbreaking and self-destroying not being able to do the same as others.

By having everything taken away from you

By thanking God each day your still on your two feet it’s a blessing

Because I don’t know when the day will come.


As I learned over the years there’s so many people worse off than you

My best friend died from this, I won’t

And for him

He’s my inspiration not to give up and to keep powering on!


So I have learned to love and respect myself and accept who I am

And you should too

We’re all beautiful in our own ways

We should never care what others think

Because your life could be over in a blink!

E. F.


Same old thing in the same old place

Same old topic same old strain

To details of real, to the detail of image

I laugh and keep on living

It’s not a game changer as people before them

But to keep the focus as it’s always been the same

Don’t let your mind fall to persuasion and doubt

Keep up the ambition and scout.

Evin Walsh

King of Ballyhooly

He is the King of Ballyhooly and the Count of Clogheen

He has 25 girlfriends but he’s only 17

He has bitten nails, his nose is half-picked,

He is a teenage alcoholic and a drug addict.

A joint in his mouth and a naggin in his hand

He is loving it, slumming it, ain’t life grand

Heads home at 3 with a bit of hassle

Back to Clogheen to his council house castle.

His plan for the future is to conquer Ballyhea

He is certain that the universe is a big conspiracy

This is supremely optimistic I must say,

But anything is possible for the man who puffs all day.

Kevin J. Finn


Education it leads to frustration

Learning poems

I wish I was at home,

Going to school every morning

Why? It’s so boring!

So much stress

No time to mess,

Biology, Cosmology

Didn’t do homework, I must write an apology?

F**k that! I didn’t pay attention

Now a detention

Didn’t do that, What! Suspension?

The education system

Is damaging the transmission,

From secondary to college

They should be promoting knowledge,

How can undue stress lead to success?

All I do is try

I’m nearly going to cry,

I do by best

In these stupid tests,

My D’s change to C’s

They’re still not happy with me,

The people who get A’s

They get the praise

They have the ability

To use the best facilities,

Just because they can memorize

The things that I despise,

There should be a broader range

Of subjects that we can change,

If they bring in something new

I can choose what I want to do.

Sean Barry

The Joke

They say that it’s a joke

A joke that I can take

But it feels like mockery

Mostly every day

From all directions

It really gets annoying now.

They just say it’s a joke

But I don’t think it is

They don’t realise

That every word stings

Every chuckle hurts like hell

I hate it

They call me stupid


For a simple mistake

That anyone could make.

Patrick Griffin


I hit the ball everyday

Even if it’s lashing

Just to hit it back and forth

To send the sliotar crashing

It’s a tough game for most

You need to be quicker than all

Concentration is key

Especially for that last ball

When I go out on that field

I only see red

Just like a bull

My opponent is dead

It’s a game’s full of animals

You enter the wildlife

Hurling for me is not just a passion

It’s life.


100 lines

100 lines it does proclaim

It hits the target with such great aim

Something missing not even seen, a shirt and tie

Outside of its palace I stand and sigh.

100 lines it does proclaim

It rules almighty in utter content

Then it begins

Absolute to my sins, I write

One two three I write

Still ruling almighty in utter content.

100 lines of wasted time

A century of monotony

An academic lobotomy

98, 99

100 lines.

C. D.


Rumours, rumours where do we start

A word in the dark like a stab in the heart

Once it hits the town

You feel like a clown

Wondering what is it about now

Sit back

Take a lunge

Hit them with

Your big bulge.

S. D.

Life of a Farmer

They say you have the life

But they do not know your strife

You try to say it’s hard

But they just imagine your bank card

Silage in the summer that’s great alright

But milking every day is as bad as blight

They complain about your wealth

But they know nothing of your mental health.

They say I can’t complain

That just gives me a migraine

They say you should sell up

But we know we can’t give up

For farming is our life heart and soul

And I couldn’t imagine being on the dole!

D. B.

Underage Drinking

Why does the age have to be 18

16-years-old is as sensible as were going to be

We can handle it without getting whacked

As of now we go behind our parents back

18-year-olds cause as much trouble as us

We are not children but we are treated like it

Nightclubs and pubs treating us like shit.



When you feel sad inside

Go see a doctor they’ll tell you

A pill he’ll prescribe.

You’ll start to feel brilliant

Have a great vibe.

But how can a pill change you as a person?

It’ll just change you into a fake version.

If you feel a sadness within you,

Talk to someone, maybe they feel blue too

If you have depression their is an outlet for you.


Languages are Pointless

Languages are pointless

We study them every year

And it’s helpless

To try and bear it.

French and Irish, bane of study

Useless words, no one needs

Learning to understudy

To blind for it to be seen.

I have no plans to visit France

And yet I learn its language

At least we’d have a chance

If there was less anguish.

Irish is native

Yet almost no one knows it

Its uncreative

And makes me want to quit

The tests are hard and prove no ability.

Sitting for hours to study words

Giving nothing but instability

Trying to get score records

That mean no more then a number on paper.

Matthew E.

Life in Mtown

We are farting in public

By old school wall

With our hands down pants

When the lunch bell calls.

We are eating too much ice cream

Biting off our nails

Getting fitter, taller, stronger

We’re Mitchelstown males.

We go out in Walshe’s

With an All-Ireland cup,

Duggan’s army for life

We’ll never give up.

C. H.


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