St. Peter’s College, Dunboyne, Co. Meath

Stop and Stare

Derek saw the boy hugging his best friend.
He squeezed him a little tighter.
He held him a bit closer.
Jake laughed at the boy
As he stood hand in hand,
With another he loved,
In a life so grand.

Harry clutched his bag a little tighter.
He breathed a little heavier.
He walked a little faster.
He eyed up the man
Passing him on the street,
Eyes darted back and forth,
Rushing on his feet.

Mary spent the night at her friend’s house.
Together they talked and played games.
She saw her when she got changed.
She saw the stretch marks,
That spread across her skin,
She eyed up her body,
Saw no double chin.

Now, a boy hugs his boyfriend.
He glimpses an angry face.
He wonders why they question him,
When seeing their embrace.

Now, a man walks down the street.
He sees a man, face taught.
He wonders why he grips his bag,
As if he is fear wrought.

Now, a girl changes her clothes.
She sees her best friend’s eyes,
She wonders why she looks so sad,
When seeing her true size.

So a boy sits in his home,
Scrolling through his Facebook feed,
Watching insults being thrown at him.

While a man watches TV,
Sees nations cry “racism”,
Feeling that his future will be grim.

And a girl wipes away tears,
Standing in front of her mirror,
Trying to fit her wrist between her thumb and finger.

While in every look they see
Anger, fear, and pain,
They recognise this rem.

For they look in the mirror,
And find the same looks,
Staring right back at them



If I were to put my entire life down on a page it would only take up a few lines
So many years left to be recorded
At the start the script would be messy and smudged, easily misunderstood
Then it would be light and clear whilst my younger self-recorded happy times
Recently the ink has been darker, my hand presses heavier against the page, tearing through
I am guided by the hands of my parents and teachers
So that my life may take a certain direction
So that my page may look the best it can
Up ahead there is no ink, my future is mine
Except it’s not
I see marks, key points pencilled in lightly
Waiting to be traced over; ‘exams’, ‘college’, ‘good job’, ‘wife’, ‘kids’
These aren’t my words,
They are the ideas of those around me of how my page will look someday

There are tears in my paper, the edges are soft
The corner is dog-eared, mine is a story to look out for
Crinkles and stains fill my page
But they can be easily overlooked if you focus on the content

Am I to carry these wrinkles on my page throughout my whole life?
These blemishes on the paper that flaw my perfect future?

Words like “queer” and “faggot” make my hand shake as I write
I end my sentences with a question mark because I can’t be sure about what I write anymore
They smudge those perfectly pencilled ideas and crumple my page a little more

Everyone reminds me that this is the only page I get
The ink I leave behind is permanent and cannot be erased
This makes the lump in my throat grow
I make mistakes, misspell words, trip up, and write something twice
But still I am forced to write down everything on this one page
This one page that is my entire life
This page that is all I am and all I will ever be.


My Life

I thought I was average
Not too long ago
But now I realise
I have something to show.
I’m not your average teenage boy
And my dark secrets I try and avoid
All because I don’t want a wife
Just to preserve my life.

I come from a Christian family
And they always told me it was blasphemy
To love who YOU want
And not biblical fiction of your imagination.
I love who I like
As you love who you like
Just to preserve my life.

I drown my life in alcohol,
I suppress my feelings with smoke
But now I’m clinically addicted
I just never gave a shite
Just to preserve my life.

I’ve sharpened a knife countless times,
I’ve butchered my wrists to endless rhymes,
Between Eminem, Tupac, Biggie and Wesley Snipes,
I have somehow preserved my life.

But through this sorrow and endless pain I’ve loved it
To all my old demons and my invisible haters
I’d love to laugh in your face
When I tell you I am as happy as can be
Because I have embraced my sexuality
And I love the way I can be me
Feel free to say who l like
All because I preserved my life.


An Ode to Me

This is an ode to me,
What you get isn’t always what you see,
Fifteen years old, timid, sometimes quiet,
But inside my brain is the push to riot,
To rebel against the idea that a girl must only be one thing,
When in fact I can dance, I can learn, I can sing,
I started dancing at age three,
I took stage feeling like I could fly,
I decided to push myself further,
And felt I could reach for the sky,
But nowadays I’m feeling less, and more,
For every open window there is also a closed door,
But for my dreams I am fighting,
In my words, in my studies and my writing,
And I will stand up for myself and the right to be,
Shamelessly, enthusiastically, beautifully, me.

Georgia Dillon

The Bride

Dragged by her wedding finger
In bleeding high heels
Down the aisle of lies
In a church of bitches
To a man made of dirt
And bluebottle flies
She would rather be in the desert
To look at the sky
The pain in her eyes show
She wants to be left to die
Without any on-looking spies.

Chloe Swift

An Inner Storm

I have this little bubble
deep inside of me
filled full of trouble
that stings like a bee,

This inner frustration
which I seldom let breathe
fuels my vexation
I can’t help but seethe.

I have to let it out
it is the only way
although without a doubt
my dancer has me left astray.

Alexandra Meenan


The rules we obey in society,
The reason for our insanity,
Destroying all originality,
An invasion of our privacy.

Always a minority,
A disgrace to all humanity,
Justification for no variety,
Why we have anxiety.

A lack of personality,
Freedom and Equality?
Teens with no sobriety,
In our twisted society.

Tara Hanley

I Am

I am a racer I am a shooter
I am not a druggy or a drinker
I am a doer and a thinker
I spend my money on my cars
I enjoy my shooting for the stars
Enjoy my horses and my racing
I am a hunter steeplechasing
I am an outs doorman not and indoor man
I am not a footballer but I am horse rider
Hunter, gatherer and provider.

Stuart Farrell

The Crisis

Never before has the world been so shaken
Millions on the move like geese during migration.
They run for their lives, fleeing violence and wars
But not a single leader are willing to open their doors.
Children are dying, drowning in the sea
While first world adults sip on their tea.
I’m not saying there is a quick fix, no not at all
But the world leaders need to grow some balls.
Everyone needs to step up and do their bit
Or we will go down as the generation who couldn’t give a shit.

Aoibhinn Boyd

A Different View

The only ones
Who hate
The state of the school system
And start acting out
Are those
Who want the alphabet to
Start with an F
Or are looking for something to talk about
Between drags of their cigarettes.

Joseph Long


The quiet group in the corner
The loud group out front
Those alone on their phones
And the girls you’d never confront.

The group of guys
The drama queens
The prying teachers
And the group of under-13s

The bell rings
They say their goodbyes
Back to the seating plan
Which feels communised.

Claudia Lynch

The Girl Next Door

Some say it’s my fault that I let her get to me
She is only thirteen and she lives right next to me
The brat’s everywhere, I can’t get away from her
I wish I could delete her, if only she were a sim.

I feel trapped by a job I need but loath
Babysitting her is like turning on terror mode
As a result, I hate her parents for raising such a devil
The fear I have for the clan is on another level.

They say I go out just to run from responsibility
Some whispered a hint of my involvement in criminality
If they only knew how innocent I really was
They would know that what was bothering me wasn’t drugs.

It was my tormentor, the pre- puberty voice
That I heard outside my door when I didn’t have a choice
So I don’t care what you say and I don’t care what you do
Because your neighbour doesn’t ruin every day for you.



Always nervous
Feeling like I must give my service
To my brother, the burden
Or society, the warden
Will judge and discourage
Instead of letting me flourish.
I need to learn to grab the world by the scruff
And call its bluff
Need to learn to let things go
Or I will never truly grow.

Harry Lynch

In a Room

She is standing in a room full people but is still alone
Staring at the boy across the room admiring him from afar
Scared of being hurt again she keeps her distance
She sees him all around stares him up and down
Trying to build the courage the courage she doesn’t have
Going up to him with his big sparkly blue eyes
Knowing she can’t do it he’ll just tell her lies
Scared of not knowing how he feels inside.


Ode to Me

I don’t want to be arrogant,
But oh I cannot stop,
When you’re as great as I am,
You too would skip and hop.

I know you may be wondering,
Where are all my friend’s?
But nobody is good enough,
With all of their split ends.

My parents may believe,
That I was a mistake,
But I know in my heart of hearts,
That I was a perfect bake.

I feel sorry for my sisters,
They have to live up to this
I try to laugh at all their jokes,
But I really take the piss.

This is an ode to me,
To celebrate my greatness,
I’ve an ego as big as Kanye,
But without all the fakeness.

Laura O’Sullivan

What I Want to Be

Loved by the teachers,
Perfect at sport,
Loved by the preachers
And to never fall short.

Want I want to be.
The Perfect Daughter,
2, 3 or 4 inches taller,
Able to swim like a fish in the water,
Have hair a beautiful golden colour.

Second best next to all of my friends,
Slow and tired as soon as I wake up,
Terrible at trying to make amends,
Letting all of this build up.
What I am.


The Sidewalk

He paced down the sidewalk,
But they can’t hear the anger when he talks.
All his time spent trying,
All alone and inside a tear from crying.
They soon will see,
The confident man he is sure to be.
And when he musters up the spirit,
She is sure to walk away and leave it.



I could forgive the screeching that kept me up
The TV that you pulled to the floor
The smashed plates and my favourite mug
The second shattered glass door

The tea-stained map or the cornflake rug
Lizzie crying because you said that you hate her
My dad calling the guards, which time was this?
Even the dead rabbit in my bed two years later

But you squirted the ketchup all over the kitchen
And though the mess you made wasn’t cleaned by me
I could smell the ketchup and gagged for days
Yet still the two things I hate isn’t three.


Poetry Slam

Why do people underestimate me
I think of this it complicates me
I like to be with everyone else
I hardly ever think of myself
Although some would say and disagree
That the whole wide world revolves around me
Why I care I’ll never know
I’m Jaime Orr and I don’t like to be known
But now I’m starting to not care less
Constantly striving to be the best
Loving my music my form of art
Starting to write now that’s a start
Makes me happy now that’s for sure
No one will break me while I’m on tours
Cause everyone who’s ever said I’ll never make it
Is only there to try and break it.

James Orr

Best Day Ever

I’d wake up to a fry
With ice-cream and cake it’d be no lie.
I’d have superpowers and be able to fly.

I’d get everything free
No charge no fee.
All the movies in the cinema I’d go and see.

I would eat loads of food,
Donald Trump would be sued.
For the day I’d be in a good mood.

The day would be fun and really groovy,
I’d end it relaxing and watching a movie.

Eimhin Kissane

Ode to Me

Zoe is my name
I’m in the hall of fame
Check my frame
I’m the main

One here
Brings a tear
Right here
To your eyes
I’m a prize

Even though this might be lies
“Tough” guys
Are like flies

Stomp them
Before they get to these pies

Out in reality
They don’t see personality
That’s where my bodies left
On a shelf
By the emp-
Ty bottles of milk

Hair like silk
Pretty bod
Pretty eyes
Pretty nose
All of that so important?
That shouldn’t be how it goes

Even though I’m amazing
I’m not usually seen as that
Too much pressure in this world
Especially for a girl.

Zoe McConnell


Mark’s back again, this time I’m the president of Ireland.
Going to turn fools into tools to help the Eire.
Going to take back Ulster so England don’t have a heart attack,
I’m just trying to reunite Ireland intact.
I am going to make Ireland great again,
Our native language regained.
It’s my obsession to have clean politicians in my possession.
Going to turn down the prices, bills, rents, mortgages,
Don’t want strugglers just want huggers.
The country will recognize global warming,
The Earth is sending us a warning,
And we will suck the harmful gases like a vacuum.
That’s all I got to say, I slayed, .

Mark Fitzpatrick

Ode to Me

My name is Alison
And I have a passion
My passion is myself
Just like the Nikes on my shelf

I play lots of Gaelic
But not so much soccer
If my marker comes near me
I’m certain to block her

I work in a café
I make loads of lattes
I’m the best in the business
I’ll get you a business

I’m the best student in school
I’m definitely not a fool
Homework is sometimes cruel
But at least I’m cool.

Alison McKeon

My Perfect Day

Wake up, bleary eyed and energised
What a weird feeling for a Monday
For once I’m not wishing it was Sunday

Crawl down the stair
Without a care
Wondering how the day will fare

Frost on the grass
Some orange juice in my glass
A perfect way
To start a Perfect day

Hop in the car
To get fresh air
Who has time to care
I only have time to dare

I do as I please
I walk with ease
While being a tease
No time for fees

I sing as I go
I have no foe
No time to be low
Oh what a perfect day.

Molly McKeon

Ode to Me

My name is Molly and I’m off my trolley
Sometimes I’m a bit of a wally
And I hate to be called Polly

I’m the best in the game
Everyone knows my name
On the road to fame
What a shame
My Mam is lame

My hair is brown
And I wear the crown
Me, I never frown
I’ll never be brought down
I own this town

Fellas be trippin’
When I come in skippin’
My hair is flippin’
When I dip in

That’s the suss
No need to cuss
Just make a fuss

That’s me you see
I’m addicted to tea
Now I’m going to flee
This is the ode to me.

Molly McKeon

Cillian, Cillian

Cillian, Cillian, one in a million
Climbing Everest without any rest
Run the M50 in less than 60
They’ll be no shame seeing my name in the hall of fame.
Seeing ‘Bowly’ on the wall in the greatest hall of all, making Trump look very small
What can I say? I’m so big I make sliced bread look small.
I make celebrities mad.
Straight outta Ratunda,
You can tell I was a wonder.
From day one I was faster than Usain Bolt.
I couldn’t come to a halt
Not even an electric volt or a lightning bolt could stop this child.
I was so wild I made chilli mild.
Now I’m in the slam calming the ham listening to my gang.
I’ve run out of time, run out rhymes.
You can have a row while I’m taking my bow.

Cillian Boland

Ode to Me

My name is Joanne
I’m better than any man
Whatever I wanna do, I can
I get on the sun beds to top up my tan
My Mam’s my number one fan
I have an aunty Ann
Who does the can-can
She lives in Iran
With her boyfriend Dan
He is “The Man”
I’m sitting in the poetry slam
My mates a sham
She takes pictures with her cam
Which gives her money for the ham
And I say “oh damn”
We share the ham with the fam
But we really need to calm.

Joanne Regan