St Joseph’s CBS, Tipperary

St Jospeh’s CBS Poems

 

The Corridor

 

In crowded halls where voices rise,

A boy walks on with fallen eyes.

Faces blend in a blurry image,

He searches for a place to envisage

Locker’s slam and laughter rings,

But in his heart, a silence clings.

While others roam in friendship’s light,

He walks the shadows, out of sight.

Each class is a maze of shifting lines,

The chatter chants, like tangled vines.

He learns that connection can’t go to waste.

 

Information Overload

 

We that saw the world shut down for 2 years

We go home and have a few beers

We that are dealing with global warming

We who cheer when Ireland is performing

We that have to be very careful with what we say

We kneel in mass all day and pray

We that saw a former US president get shot

We saw half the world smoking pot

We that saw an incredible solar eclipse

We watch it while eating chips

We that have access to every known piece of information, in our pocket

We plug the charger into the socket

We who have furthered space exploration

We who dismiss all information

We where the average house costs ¼ of a million.

We watch Trump spends billion

 

Finding Hearts

 

We are living every day waiting for the next day to come

the students of the world sitting around waiting for the day to be done

the generation made to fix the issues in this Earth

Searching to find our self-worth

The map to help find the gold of the planets

The ones to navigate the stars and surf the tails of comets

Now we have to depart to find the road to our hearts

 

School

 

the lads sitting bored in school.

the lads spending all of our free time on homework.

We sit in class and feel like we run out of fuel.

the lads we have no time for ourselves, and we try to make everything work.

spending the entire day in school and being busy and having no time for fun.

going late to bed because we want to make more time for our things.

tired all next day and feel like a bum.

Everybody and thing pulling on our strings.

We go back to school tired and hungry.

 

Fishing

 

The boat drifts along the shore

and as I sit and ponder

a small trout takes the lure

it thrashes like thunder

and as I throw back in again

it swims away with wonder

 

Soul Searching

 

and into the field I go to lose my mind and find my soul

plant my seed to let them feed

Never will they ever not have a room

To provide to keep them happy

But to always be able to be strong

And so they will always have a bond

 

The Town

 

It’s this town

So big

So small

Gathered around

in this hall

with this man

so loud and round

roaring and shouting

all over a pound

shouting day

and shouting night

giving everyone a fright

when this occurs

don’t be afraid

remember this town

Your people

Your stage.

 

Fighting for Freedom

 

We are we are we are

Young people with undeveloped brains

Stuck on circling trains

Young people under a rule

Young people stuck in school

Struggling to believe

And don’t know how to leave

We are young people who don’t want to be here

And people starting to tear

And want to do what we want

And don’t want to be taunt

 

Appreciation

 

We are grateful for life

we are living in the moment

we are inspired to write poems

we are glad to be here

 

Our Generation

 

in the greatest county of all

the best generation going forward

the generation with bright futures ahead of us

going to be better than the generation that is older

going to be stronger than ever

dealing with a lot of problems

living with high expenses

although having happy, memorable lives

forced the be in school, born to do what we enjoy

wanting to be forever young

 

The Lads

 

We are the lads, ready for the night,

We are the lads, always shining bright.

We are the lads, stepping with the pride,

We are the lads, never gonna hide.

We are the lads, living for the thrill,

We are the lads, climbing every hill.

We are the lads, chasing all our dreams,

 

Who We Are

 

We are students

We are slaves

We are graves

We are here

We are lost

we are found

We are adventurous

We are failures

We are the days we live and the nights we sleep

We are us

 

Young People’s Path

 

We are the generation pushed into a system of marks and grades where creativity is punished.

We are the generation pressured to fix all the world’s problems.

We are the generation where image and status are favoured over your personality.

our feelings are obsolete.

We are the generation brought up by conflicted opinions.

where hope is a diamond in the rock.

We are the generation tied to a rope of addictions.

We are people who can forge their own path.

shed aside

 

Future Generation

 

the future generation to lead the others

untapped potential

the future champions of the sports and arts we practice

the ones who will heal the world

the future history writers

the ones who control our destinies

the ones who will go even further beyond

the ones who will generate hope to others

And most importantly,

Groot

 

Trip:

 

Tys we go on trips

good at playing video games

the bosses in the school

the historians of our time

an important decade

numeracy in history

the map of the world

an edmund rice school

an all-boys school

allowed to go town at break

 

Tomorrow

 

Tomorrow is the most important thing in life.

Comes into us at night……. It is perfect when it arrives and puts itself in our hands

It hopes we learned something from yesterday.

 

Hurling

 

the game of hurling

the blood sweat and tears

the most important the beers

the adrenaline overcomes the fear of the belts

the winning feeling and the celebrations

are the reason we play this wonderful sport

 

 

Rugby

 

rugby

rugby is cool

rugby is great

rugby is a game I play with my mate

I can get dirty

sometimes I get angry

but I am a mate

 

Hurling

 

hurling, hurling, hurling

started young, where would it take me

we got told to practise so we did

now were in the north final

the parish are with us

 

Sunset

 

I saw the sunset for the first time,

Never knew it would be a crime.

I felt a shivers down my spine,

I saw the sun set, for the last time.

 

Hurling

 

the game of hurling.

why do we play?

is it meeting the lads before training or the after-match pints.

is it the hard running in March or the summer evening puck around.

is it the selling lotto tickets or cutting the overgrown grass on the pitch.

is it the pre-match nerves or the after-match craic.

we all do it for the same reason.

 

Running

 

I like to run

most days of the week

even the weekends

no rest days but it is fun

 

Irish Love

 

roses are red

violets are blue

in Nenagh’s hue

freaky Boras bloom

Irish love in my heart

forever in tune

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