Grow, dream, feel, imagine …
They are all things we do as children.
We think about being older, and so innocent, we play,
Without thinking that one day, we will do it for the last time.
But it’s normal, we put the “Carpe Diem” into practice,
That little part we all have as a child,
But that very few keep being adults.
Why? We can’t know.
It is a mystery that carries in our conscience
Since the beginning of our existence.
But that despite having technology, weapons, bombs, resources and money,
It is still beyond our knowledge.
Since I was a child, I thought of my friends as something eternal,
Something that would always be there, something that would never be able to lose.
How sad it is to get older.
Realize that our trial version ended long ago.
Realize that what we thought was incredible was a magic trick.
Realize that nothing is like the previous things.
Realize that everything we thought eternal disappears.
When I grow up, I will remember all those laughs,
Of all those tears.
Of all those worries
That tormented me during the days.
And I will also remember my insecurities,
All the desire to disappear
That tormented me at night.
When I’m alone I like to lock myself in my room,
Think about my things, hate me, kill me, tear me apart.
Because only when I completely tear myself apart,
I am able to cry.
I like listening to music while I remember everything I went through,
All those good moments, but especially the difficult ones.
I try to imagine a normal future with a common past,
And at night I imagine the things my brother never told me.
I would like it so much that I was here.
But not to see my brother end.
Just to see him smile for the first and last time,
As I look into his eyes and let him go again.
I wish he were by my side,
But at the same time I’m glad he isn’t here.
The world is difficult being alive,
And I don’t want him to have to suffer.
It deserves everything.
My time, my things, my love, my attention …
I could have it all, if only he was here.
Grow, dream, feel, imagine …
I would like to do it again,
But in another life, in another world.
In a place where going outside is normal,
No racism, homophobia, insults, violence, harassment, lies and filters.
I would like to live in a world where everything is real,
In which people are people and feelings are part of them,
In which people are bought with hugs, and not with money.
In which every time I close my eyes,
Just think about opening them again,
And not in keeping them closed forever.
I would give anything to be alive.
For being really alive, and not faking it.
This place where the we once played
Is now reduced to rubble
Where people once drank, sang and danced
Now quiet not a word is spoken
Where people lived in fear
Of what might happen next
A teenager with a gun
Angry eyes ghetto-blessed
Here the people lived and loved
There homes and lives reduced to rubble
Whose dreams were dreamt
In fire and blood
During our countries troubles
Your very first steps
The first laugh
That tumbled from you
The day your mother cried
Your first day of school
The fight with your family
And the waterfall of tears
The dream you dream
Of coming back to tell your stories
Of the adventures you are having
Back to where your heart is
Back to where the wind is always blowing
Back to the blue bench overlooking the sea
Back to home
The happy memories
That make you sad,
The regret that now
Makes you proud,
The shattered tears
The trembling fears,
The laughter and
The weekend’s beers,
You’re all I have.
Sadb Ní Mhóráin
Every moment I have lived
Every breath from every second
I did not have time to give
Every moment that I was angry
When all I wanted was to cry
Every panic attack and the moments building up to them
Every time I felt doubt about myself
Because I thought I wasn’t good enough
Every moment comment that was every said about me
Has brought me here
Every happy moment in between
Is the stuff that holds me together
Stronger than ever
What the shadows murmur the shadow is broken
These walls remember when they were built
This is where I found the penny of shadows
What the gun wants is to fire at the targets
This land is old and the devil has risen
When I wake up
I miss the sun
But I remember
I will be back
To see the sea
And feel the shine
Is everything I need
To go to sleep
They tell tales of old times, old faces
People and places long gone
The tragedies of Life, of Love
Heartbreak and misery
The miracles of Death, the “Sweet Release”
The freedom in peace
Calling to me to embrace them
To leave what I love behind
I shall not answer their call.
Dónall Ó Daighre
They all die,
Everyone I’ve learned,
To care about.
One dies slowly.
One dies violently.
One, it’s over,
Before it began.
Tears flow freely.
Makes it hard to care,
About anyone else.
Even still, I can’t help it.
I learn to love,
I learn to lose.
Despite expecting it,
It still hurts me.
They all go,
But much less than fall.
Still, I never learn.
Even after all the loss,
I keep picking them up.
I turn the final page,
And close the book.
Dreams of a being
An astral plane between time and space
A dream of being
Of an awakening
Of nothing and everything
Cries and screams
Dreams and nightmares
Born of light
Learn to doubt
I waste time
A lack of fun
Each class the same
I feel so stupid
I feel so lame
All I learn
Is how to doubt
The ocean wish that it will be clean
The turtle sees plastic and say “a jellyfish,
The ocean dreams that from all the pollution,
The humans up above will find a solution
We are yet to discover all the ocean,
Hopefully we won’t so they can avoid all the commotion
The ocean’s desire will never be seen
Unless humans choose to redeem
The ocean is a magical place
Now is the time we must not haste
The ocean holds the secrets
Of lost civilizations
Will our be the next Atlantis
Painted green by waving grass in fields;
Yellow by the gorse bushes’ strength
And blue by great meandering rivers
The Shannon itself or small streams
That whistle down the side of country back-roads.
This Land guards the bodies of lost friends
Lying deep in the ground where we lay them in mourning.
This Land of the Ancient Irish Elk
The Grey Wolf, Mesoliths, Celts and Vikings
Now, provides to us.
On the edge of the world
Where Romans dared not tread.
This Land of famine and of war
Created by the dead.
The students drag their feet down the dark gloomy hallways
Old baggy uniforms are worn on the backs the small first years
The teachers teach the tired and lazy students as they fall asleep on their desks
Homework is given and unnecessary tests are taken
The smart are separated from the dumb
Bullies storm the hallways looking for their next victim
Books are thrown pens are chewed and pencils are lost
We go to learn but we learn to hate
This land is here to stay,
For all eternity and never go away,
It has seen good times also some bad.
It’s seen a happy farmer it’s seen one sad,
We don’t really care that it’s going bare and dying away.
We need it green so the cattle can graze.
If we don’t stop littering, we won’t have much,
But lots of plastic killing a bunch,
Killing a bunch of trees leaves and other plants we need to breathe.
This land is simply supreme,
We need it to live not for cows to shiver in the cold winter storm,
But for a place young animals can be born.
It wants its fire,
It wants the ravenous high
That it lust’s desire,
The short sharp shot,
A bloodied stream,
The devil’s dream
It wants this high to never end,
This freight train thundering
Around the bend.
I love sports
I love soccer
I love Gaelic
I love hurling
I love rugby
I love sports
Judgement expectations lies
Judgement expectations lies
Put on a mask
No one can see tiers
Only a smile
You’re my favourite
My younger cousin once gave me a rock,
And said you are my favourite.
I’m no behaviourist and at that time, I would savour it.
My heart was beating for love for him
As I only see him once a year.
And every time he see me,
He runs to the door and gives me a hug
On the apartment red floor antique rug
That moment was cute as he was only two,
But now she is 6 and I still have that rock,
It is now suck in one of my odd socks.
I go to the shop
To buy a lollipop
But when I come out
I get a loud shout
From my nan
She looks like a lamb
Goodbye all my little children
Your mums face looks like Bill Clinton
Today I noticed something different
I glanced out the window there it was,
Its glossy white texture peered in at me,
What could it have been.
As I walked out to it in my fluffy pyjamas,
I felt a cold breeze come over me.
I was confused it was so cold ,
I got my coat and went back out to it.
There it was just sitting there on the ground,
I said ”hello but nothing was said back.
I had given up I walked over to it,
I tried to pick it up it was freezing.
As my hands shivered with frostbite,
I sat down into it; I looked over at the door.
I had never seen anything like it,
My footprints were sunken down into it.
If you want to go to a date, of course
You want to wear your one favourite shirt that makes you sexy and cool
But your mom washed it
And she is very bad in washing your laundry
Now your pink fluffy shirt with a glitter unicorn,
Can wear your 2 years old brother.
You can’t wear it and you must wear the old shirt from your dad
Than you go out of the door with a red and blue shirt
With the slogan
“Catch me if you can, I want”
Now you are on the street and
Want to meet the girl of dreams with this shirt