Only Looking for Attention
I used to keep sharp things in my drawers
But that was before
Those poisoned bedside kisses
Kept quivering above my forehead at night.
Before she made sure the door would spare some light
As to reveal the scars that I feared glorified my gapping vulnerabilities.
As gapped as those teeth that they remind I failed to hide.
Or the nails that I like long and sharp and sometimes stained
But never too stained because I’m “only looking for attention”.
So I fight my tainted terror by tracing, drawing, carving
So that I now know those lines like the back of my hand,
No the front.
A simple expression of artistic agony.
Mistakenly missing those fatal vessels.
I apologise for
“Only looking for attention.”
Look behind you.
I am there,
Smoothing my hair back with sea-water,
Hoping to dissolve into it,
Become fluid for you,
The god of lads.
I hope to be picked up.
I hope to be spun skyward by my heel.
I hope to be serenaded by gravelly libretto (the kinky snake charmer).
The covert lion,
Cheeks smeared with lamb’s blood.
He lies beside me,
capricious, cranky, an ideologue (unaware of age and how it hollows the voice).
Look forward again.
Gods always die young.
Another morning, another cold day,
The dull, dying world is still here to stay.
The lack of care, or will to dare,
Leaving society feeling naked and bare.
The veil of deception rolls back,
Showing the towns with wounds in their backs.
Those mortals never realised it was a sham,
That those people on their high horses had a masterplan.
These people suffer through each and every day,
While the others live with money paving their way.
I Walk Down
As I walk down the empty hall,
I stare at the smooth, blank wall and
Think to myself about the troubles that lie ahead,
While wishing, I was lying in my most smooth bed.
I lie on the ground, as I gaze upon the empty ceiling,
I feel my spirit cleansing, an inner healing.
The mysteries begin to unravel,
As I begin a spiritual travel
To journey into a land untold
And have the greatest mystery unfold.
High and Low
Flying high yet so low
No one seems to know
Behind the lens seems like tens
Doesn’t get any better doesn’t seem to mend
No way out there seems to be
Even cigarettes filled with vitamin C
No one knows because of posts that don’t relate to me
Hiding behind a computer screen
Can be wasps.
When your stomach flutters
And your shakes
And your cheeks flush,
Sometimes it’s not love
The struggle of the young,
As they try to comprehend big issues in their little heads,
An unfair fight they will never win.
Sit, speak, p*** and eat.
Instructions I have no right to follow.
Yet the same people say life is short and years are few.
Respecting people who don’t respect me,
For I don’t want to be told what I can and can’t be.
Why do I have to be judged by standardised tests?
Puts a uniform on me and makes me like the rest.
They tell me what I am fit to be,
“You’ll not amount to much if you don’t study.”
For now, school is where I must stay,
As I sit in my chair and dream of freer days.
My Own Path
He said you’ll never make it
Don’t even try you’ll break it
But this is my life
This is my fight
You’ve been given a chance an opportunity
This means nothing but ambiguity
I’ll carve my own path make my own destiny
My own sense of identity.
Through the darkness,
Through the light,
Who can be sure what we’re going through,
Were all different in so many ways.
Lives are all different,
Yet you don’t have a clue what a life is like.
All the differences a life can have,
Know and unknow,
Every life is different.
Repeal the 8th
I hear them shout “the people want it”
I don’t want it
They say we need it now
I don’t want it now
They say I’m a bigot
I’m not a bigot
I’m talking about repealing the 8th Amendment
I feel people do not respect my beliefs, my traditions, my values
Or that of thousands upon thousands of Christians.
As they march towards Dail Eireann,
They shout “this is what democracy looks like”
No, it is not
Democracy is not insulting other people for not sharing your beliefs
Democracy is not intimidating others
I respect the campaigners right to protest, to shout to roar
They do not respect mine
They do not respect life
They do not respect the beliefs and values of Christianity
Not my Priority
Football is my refuge
The teachers try to teach to deaf youths
I live for the weekends, the pints and s****
The one thing I’ll never do is smoke filthy butts
I enjoy my life; I am not self-destructive
Yet I am deemed counterproductive
I am told I can achieve good grades
But I will more than likely grow to be a jack of all trades
I am not distressed by this. School is not my priority
Like the rest of this generation, I must have an issue with authority
The King of the Yard
The King of the yard
Keeps his emotions distant
He contemplates his existence
See, his street status matters too much
Acts before he thinks
Keeps his empathy for when he drinks
His ability to talk the talk
And walk the walk
Blocks his insecurities
It started well I was only eleven
School was great and I had a few mates
One day mam took me into the room
She told me that we had to move
Her and dad aren’t together no more
That’s cus he called her a w****
It drives me mad it drives me insane
I hope that I never see him again
For me my dad
Would be better off dead
The Silence Spreads
The silence spreads over the field as the kicker takes his mark,
All eyes are on him as he judges the wind,
Two steps back and one step left, he runs,
He drops the ball and swings his foot, they connect.
The ball flies high but travels short, my ball all day,
I scream my name as I hold out my hands the ball falls to me.
My legs start to pump my body travels low ball tight to my side
Team running with me, others running at me
Enemy right in front heading straight for me, we connect.
Full of Shadows
This place is full of shadows
Of people who weren’t once shallow
Spending their own lives in shadow,
Dragging themselves down
Lower and lower
I’ve had enough having to binge
My eyes on empty syringes
Empty like the hollow pits
That people today call their minds
Watching people surrounding me
Sinking and turning to darkness
To find light in a so called “hopeless” situation
The Big Game
Walk into the dressing room
Before the big game,
The championship is our to claim.
We’ve fought all year
Our time most come
“Now come on lads,
There’s a game to be won”
Half time, stick to the plan,
Every one work, man to man,
Let’s go out and win this game.
At the end of the game lets complain
About the performance, about the score.
The waiting lads, we wait no more.
At the end of the game,
When time was up,
Up walked our team
To raise the cup.
Rise to Fame
I hate this place,
It’s always in my face.
Coming every day for same old stuff,
It’s all for the good I’m sure enough.
When I leave, I’ll be at my peak,
Following the same technique.
Lost in the world looking all the same,
Just looking for that one rise to fame.
Jake Logan Condon
It started on the twelfth of July
It was the beginning of the end
It started with a boy
Then a group
Then the school
It was like I was drowning
Struggling to breathe
Trying to escape
But it was like rocks were on my feet
Weighing me down
I am isolated
Feeling deflated now
Not knowing my purpose
No Word of a Lie
When I was three my daddy left us
No call, no message, no word of a lie
Times were hard and mommy was stressed
Four young boys and only one income
Moved around, from house to house, trying to settle
But then times started changing and mom got a promotion
She got a new man and now we got two incomes
Times are better now and all is settled
Don’t need no daddy
You hear about yer yan Rose
Who died last night
She was a bit of a dose
But she was sound though
Do remember her dad and the drunk driving incident
The passenger died and he’s in prison
But he was sound though
And do you remember the absolute state of her mother
Having a new boyfriend every week
They were all sound enough though
Well except for her most recent one
He was an abusive asshole
Did you hear what he did last fall.
He battered Rose’s face to bits
So she gave her wrists the slits
That wasn’t sound at all
What we Need
I live for summer to get out of school the get away from it all,
To kick a ball or to route about without having to listen to it all.
The constant roasting’s,
The people boasting.
Teachers telling you what you need to do,
But what you need and what you want to do are two different things.
You need good grades,
Even to get a trade.
We’re always learning stuff we don’t need in life
What about learning how to be a good father or take care of your wife?
Stuff we actually need in life.
I am not depressed,
I am angry.
The seated hollow called Cavan Town
Cans and Hash, lads selling brown
From the highland of Scotland
Five finger stones
Skins left by the stoners
They all claim to own
A town destroyed by Fine Gael
and of course, Fianna Fail
Drink, drugs and rock and roll
Is it really worth it all?
The End of the Day
At the end of the day
It is all hugs and smiles
We finally have won the battle,
It took heart and soul
Ability to handle the pressure
That last point it was the difference
It’s over the final whistle has blown
We can celebrate and bring back what’s our own.
Where I Live
Where I live
You walk anywhere the smell of weed
Everyone looks like they’re different breeds
Some of my friends smoke pot
And they think it’s hot
It’s not the best
I live on the can
It’s my best fan
Where I live it’s s***
I hate it every bit
The places make me sick
Makes me thick
Sunny days change all
On the pitch laid out or visit to the lake
Bottled water, ninety-nine. No mistake
Not a care in the world, all out for the chat
Why isn’t everyone, every day like that
Therapy and what, all people get
But it’s all simple, never forget
No s*** given, hang around and stay
Always live life like it’s a sunny day.
And all I Want to do is Kick Points
In the summer when the sun is gleaming down,
All I want to do is kick some points.
I’m stuck at home helping my dad
In his dusty workshop,
And all I want to do is kick points.
Two days go by and I’m still at home,
Trying to persuade dad to let me go because
All I want to do is kick points.
My time has come,
I am now free,
Out on the pitch,
Running and up and doing sprints,
I finally get to kick points.
It begins its life as a foetus in its mother’s womb,
Then moves onto a living thing.
Eating grass in the green fields for 3 years,
Off to the factory we go.
Shaped and pulled different directions I go,
Dried out filled with air,
Kicked around what happened.
Everyone’s watching me,
I’m making history.
Smashed into the sky,
I couldn’t handle all this pressure.
Flying down the road with a 110 90.
I say to myself there’s no gem like a 110.
Straight pipe on her blaring out the tunes.
Turbo on her and she goes zoom.
Full tank on the back no bother to her.
Up the hill ya can hear her purr.
There’s nothing like driving a 110.
Arsenal Fan TV
Troopz blud he is the man,
He wants Wenger out fam.
Troopz he speaks Arsenals language,
Yes this don speaks the London language.
Ty he thinks Arsenal can do the quadruple,
This guy acts like he’s Wenger’s pupil.
DT, Robbie, the rest of the guys and Claude
To you guys I applaud.
Because what is football,
Without the passion of the fans.
Sean T. Murphy
The Reliable 7840
Flat out down the road
In the reliable 7840
Flat out with the full of the tank
No bother to the yoke
Going flat out
Chrome pipe shining
Flat for home
Ready for the tae
And then ready to hit the hay
Sitting on the side line again
It wasn’t my fault this time
The referee just dislikes me
That was definitely not a free
Why does this always happen to me
I don’t understand why he hates me
Always giving frees against me
This is why I hate the referee
Wish I Could Trust People
Got my school bus ticket robbed,
Man I hate when people do this,
So snakey behind my back.
Wish I could trust people
Can’t even leave my bag unwatched,
Just to get to play some ball
With my mates in the yard,
Man I hate this school.
Summer is here
I can feel the sun on my ear
Sun is shining
The weather is fine
Drinking red wine
Slap on the diff and pray
That she will go all the way
Cause I’m flat to the mat
And I’m heading for the tae.
Working all night
With a flame in the pipe
With the diesel light on the dash
While sipping at a beer and driving all night long.
I found a yoke with plenty of poke.
I found the yoke and couldn’t keep her cool
With loads of power
With no lights
Only seeing stars.
Thinking to myself what more would you want.
Never mind the long hours and the hard work
It’s in the blood and we just simply love it.
Summers here unleash the musketeer
Adventures to be had
Late nights we go so mad
Free to be what we are
Take a drive in my brand-new car