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 upon a new destiny
As what we do now is judged
Try to move what cant be budged.
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 to change our life to suit others
Chase dreams, ambitions, lovers.
We ask ourselves is this the life we want?
Because what you see through an eyes
That does not satisfy.
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 inside and we smile
We smile outside although people can’t see what you’re going through.
We run from ourselves because we seek
We try and we cry.
We believe that if we are someone else
We might just fit in.
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.
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.
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
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
Words thrown around
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.
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!
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.
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
I wish I was at home,
Going to school every morning
Why? It’s so boring!
So much stress
No time to mess,
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.
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.
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
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
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
Take a lunge
Hit them with
Your big bulge.
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!
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
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.
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.