Christian Brothers Cork.

Courage To Fly

When i was young i wanted to fly but never had the courage as i was too shy
I never stepped outside my comfort zone as i thought i would die
I fell like a rock to the bottom of the sea
Didn’t think id be able to stand on my own two feet
I had a hard time as i was at the end of the line
I knew id be back but it would take some time
Stood back up and shrugged myself off
Thought i had enough but didnt know where to start
Grabbed my wings and took flight again
Like a bird in the sky i learned to fly
Not alone anymore floating like a butterly

The Beauty of Confidence

As I sit during a workshop, I ponder
About all the things that make me, me
Different from every seed on Earth, I am the best
And most salient noun in the world.
I back myself through thick and thin,
I know I am competent and I can
Be whatever I want in this world, the world is mine
And always will be.
I drown out the voices, I know mine
Is the only opinion that matters.
I like sport, I like school – I am driven and bold
And know I can drown out opinions’ stranglehold.

Given a Chance

The people that I’m with come from power,
And money, another child in a dynasty,
Not me,
I’ve been given a chance, I have to break free,
Pressure like I’m at the bottom of the sea,
My home wears a pretty face, but no-one leaves,
Patterns like ripples, emerging in my friends,
The bottle’s clinking call, brings them to their end,
Unless I take my chance and leave, I’ll join them.


I come from a well off family,
All my friends think my life is great
Just because I’m from a well off family doesn’t mean i have an easy life.
I have been through many problems, i got so low that life didn’t seem worth it and
That’s when i thought it’s time to go. I’d lost all hope and i had lost all faith
Until one night a friend of mine took his life this knocked me down even lower
I didn’t want the same faith i went for a drive with my father at my side
I told him all about it.
That’s when i got a glimmer of hope
I held onto it with my life
In the end the only things that saved me were my extremely supportive family and money.
I have been through hell but i’m still here standing
So high that sun is almost blinding.

Working for You

The years are too long filled with work and stress
But why do we do this just to impress?
We work and we study through day and through night
But then we always tend to lose our sight.
The work is for you not your mum or your dad
So do what you can don’t let it make you mad.
Your decisions are yours an yours alone
So just don’t be afraid to let that be known.


If consciousness is a dream
the seams of reality failed to hold tight,
With sufferings bow shoots
through dark and light.
Yet we fight and roar,
Like a falcon we soar.
Poachers shoot us down more and more,
And yet we respawn to a world
dawned in black of carbon,
and tornadoes whirled.
But if consciousness is a dream,
does it matter,
as matter is a matter of perspective
up a chaotic ladder.
We may be passengers
with a strangers thoughts,
but as we end up in a place
with 1’s and ought’s.
I ask if we see the world through this view,
does it matter, if there is one painfully loose screw.


I can feel the pressure now
Three arrows more
Three arrows to break my high score
As I draw back my bow
The target comes into focus
A cloud of dread drifts overhead
once I release the string I drop the bow
For deep in my heart I know
another day I’ll break the score

Ace Race

There’s a cold morning mist
as I feel the club beneath my wrist,
alone on the course
the wind behind me at force,
I get ready and strike the ball
and watch it settle three feet from the hole,
I walk to the green with a smile on my face
knowing how close I was to an ace.

Dusk and Dawn

I remember the joy of being in my element
playing the game I love and smiling through the months
I remember wanting the ground to swallow me whole
When the whistle blew all at once
I remember floating in oblivion
Being at complete peace of mind
I remember the sound of traffic blaring their horns
Running on the pavement and running out of time
i remember being happy, I remember being sad
But in the end i realise that life isn’t all that bad
not all like taking part,
it is a game that is played through your heart.

No Longer

From the sound of passing cars,
To the roaring of people at late nights,
Drinking, Smoking, Laughing, Cheering,
Is what make people, people,
To have emotions,
To do what they love,
Or to what they think is best,
For them,
But not for there health,
Soon dead too soon,
No longer Drinking, Smoking, Cheering, Laughing,
But silent, alone and dead,
Left too soon to be gone,
And is no longer doing what they love,

Rise And Grind

Wake up in the morning i know i got to rise and grind
Feeling pretty awful what to do oh nevermind
Going into school i have a million different lives
If you think you know what’s real or not then meet me in five
Now you know the state of mind for rise and grind
Got to keep on going got to let them know i shined


Rowing and school are almost identical,
Slogging through the rough waters of adolescence
The insurmountable waves of exams and homework
Or how about the tsunami of people telling you you’re too lazy
Not good enough but when you finally pull through to the other side
You are left feeling lost and alone with no idea of what to do
Where to go knowing the system has failed you.


Here they are the shy pre teen band the arctic monkeys
with front man Alex Turner leading the mission
2005 he seems very alive
jumping around the stage playing his guitar like jimmy page
2006 the album is out with 10 amazing tracks
the fans volume at the max
2007 with songs about heaven
505 still on the charts today and god what a tune to play
2009 this is a sign
Alex is changing a bit he’s slowly fading away from being a brit
2011 the change has come
he’s wearing leather jackets looking like the top gun
2013 the year of the boom
most listened to rock album of the decade
trust me it was getting played.
He’s changed a lot but may have lost the plot.

Hopeful Light

Dazed and confused
There I stand.
My mind beside me.
As loud as a brass band.
Telling me lies.
I don’t understand.
How the thing I love.
My brain.
Who creates my stories.
Could cause me so much pain.
I tell it to rest, to relax or to stop this commotion.
But the lie it tells me, is just a wave in an ocean.
A grand sea of ideas, of stories that I fed.
Oh how I love and hate this voice in my head.
Well don’t leave me yet.
I still have stories to write.
And out of this darkness will glow a hopeful light.

A Life

This is a life engulfed by expulsions over lost tempers,
A fear of each and every scolding mentor whose
Punishment can do nothing to stop the burning, burning, burning of home’s embers.
A life in hiding from the common school cruelty
Ridicule thrown without the knowledge of a life spent falling down over and over at constant pressure,
Turning not to help but to the captivity of truancy.
This is a life lived without support,
A hard shelled child defined by their rage-fueled retorts,
A being of untold pain ignored by each and every judgmental port of love
Who deny him of the embrace he so deserves.
This is a life lost too soon,
An impossible escape blocked by one faithful afternoon,
A life ended by a needle and spoon.


Starting is a tricky endeavor,
the ones that do are framed as clever,
people that start are often confident,
and the ones who don’t are labelled incompetent,
people who start are often followed,
and people not involved can be harshly swallowed,
you may feel the pressure to start,
because you’re often measured by your will to start,
people often pledge, for something to drive them over the edge,
to drive them to forget their insecurities,
and part from the person they don’t want to be,
to start,
and be free

Where do you come from?

I come from a not so nice council estate
Where my peers do not see 6th year
Where the young people that do see 6th year have children and don’t see there degrees
Where drugs are just a part of everyday life
Where the Guards visit more than any other estate
Where you don’t expect someone from a private school to be from,
Because I’m not I am only from this place on a Friday and Saturday ,
When I go to visit my mother,
My mother who has lived this cycle
Who has come from the same estate
Who did not see her degree as a result of me coming into the world
Who saw drugs as a part of everyday life
Who has suffered from this cycle and is back in that same house living with her mother,
The same cycle was due to be on course for me if society had its way,
But because of my father fixed his life and breaking the council estate cycle
He allowed me to break the cycle
He allowed me to be able to attend a private school
He allowed me to be able to have an opportunity nobody in my family history has had
To begin the cycle of wealth
To create a legacy for my family name
To live a life without struggle
To give my children a better life than my their Grandparents before them.

I’m Not a What

I don’t know what i am. i am not an archetype,
A single identifiable adjective or noun.
I am myself and myself is like no other.
A writhing questioning mass of interests,
Unknown desires and statements.
But i don’t know what i am. i don’t like sport but i practice martial arts
I hate people but i want a friend.
I rather read than write. i think, i think im wrong.
That nothing is right, that i cant sing a song
Yet i make a sound where it cant be found and i
Think of love and how its tough to live in a world like
Where you must be seen or you have never been a person worth seeing.
I don’t know what i am but i am nonetheless.
I cannot understand myself by categorizing as simultaneously a nerd,
Bookworm, furry, weeb, blackbelt, metalhead, gifted, introverted, philosopher.
I don’t know what I am because I am not a what, I’m a who.


The man saw poor, ol’ John get shot,
The man saw the camp get stormed by the German lot.
The man saw all the blood, sweat and tears,
The man hadn’t seen anything like this in all his years.
The man felt the bang in his head,
The man wished that he was dead.
The man heard shots all around,
The man wished he couldn’t hear the sound,
Of all the death, roaming free,
The man saw the light from the everlasting tree

Craving The Weekend

Bathrooms streaked like grandads pants
This school is a kip
In a huddle we stand
Everyone has a hooter in hand
This smell blocks the smell
Otherwise it’s not unlike living hell.
Back into the class we go
English now, lowest of the low
Swiping on my phone
I’ve never felt more alone
Craving the weekend
The gats is what I’m seekin’
Friday night on in the bush I have a leak in
Wet patch on my jeans
Not another can to be seen
Text message from the mother
“Home in half an hour”
I get jolted awake by the sound of the teacher
I look around to see a huge surprise
Mr. X is rounding up all the guys
He caught them on camera
Having a puff
He says he needs to have a talk about this stuff

This is Normal

I am a boy who has a normal life
I go to a normal school each day on a normal bike
I have normal friends who do normal things
Like play a normal guitar with normal strings
I play normal sports like football or rugby
And have normal hobbies like to write and to read
But why is normal considered to be right
Why is it normal to ride a bike
Why is it normal to play rugby and football
And what even is normal now at all
Why is it normal to have normal friends
Do we really know when this “normal list” ends
Normal isn’t always quite the right thing
If everyone brought a knife to a gun fight what would you bring
It’s ok to not be normal
It’s not considered informal
Just be who you want to be
Don’t let anyone say “live like me”

Dressing room politics

Along the wall, across the hall
A room of politics, beneath it all
In they stumble, after a rumble
And gossip away the days dismay
They walk in small and come out tall
After saying away the days dismay

Old Memories

I look over there all I see is gloom and dare
Old memories come through my mind and appear
This new life is hard and full of fear
I’m sitting on my couch depressed with a gone off beer
This brand new disease came into my life
It’s hurting so bad I feel like my hearts been darted with a knife


When I was younger all i wanted to be was a teenager
I thought it was so cool, going out with your friends
Staying up late and
Doing stuff you shouldn’t being doing
But now that I’m here, going out with friends
Staying up late and doing stuff I shouldn’t be doing
It isnt so cool and all I wish to be is my younger
Innocent self.


I think I know how it works
I think I know how to see
Cutting corners in the line of life
I think I know what will be
Fear of failing with a craving for success
Of carrying a lazy life
How can I know comfort if i don’t know what is next
For now I’m told my future lies in these tests

Money Dreams

Money comes easy,
Life isn’t easy,
Your mum and dad make you,
They act like they hate you,
Everyday I wake up,
Shaken for my knowledge on the roman empire,
Dreaming of elsewhere,
Money comes easy,
Life isn’t easy.

Place of Perfection

I come from a sporting background that i feel was pushed upon me
I come from a place of perfection
Its the greatest people wanted me to be
Feel people know my name by how i played my last game
But if i played bad my last game people wont know my name
This is my life i wish i could prove it
Even though its full of trouble
I would give everything to never lose it

The Raging Cat

A gasp escaped the mouth,
Anger could not contain its amber,
The rage brought a drought,
And there was the offender,
She rolled and bent and purred,
The scratches on the couch ripped,
But her plea will be left unheard,
As the damage could not be repaired.

Blue Sky

The blue sky
To the dragonfly
The warmth of the sun’s shine
To the beach sign
The crash of the waves
To the summer rave,
The small spit of land
To the beers canned
The nights fun
To the music spun
The instant gone
To the dawn


Forced to learn
Books to burn
Hopefully my life will take a turn
If not just to spite
Those who say my outlook is not right
I will contemplate again tonight


Sport this year hasn’t been the same,
Quick and short seasons gone down the drain,
Good times and bad times all at once,
These are memories that will never be lost,
Early mornings and late nights all come down for this last night,
Happy or sad we have all had fun
All good things come to a certain point

A Box

A Kafkaesque Box
Our excellence is stifled,
Behind kafkaesque boxticking,
Incompetently we are managed,
Behind power they are hiding.
First, Fifth, it all doesn’t matter,
Far ahead you are hobbled,
Far behind you suffer,
For we all become disappointed.
Reduced to a number,
A box to be ticked,
Excelling if we conform to a guideline,
But none of us really do.

The Game

Twenty groups fight to survive
Only one wins
Three gone never to be the same again
Jubilation ,triumph, depression,
Moments that can only be imagined
Grown men and women like kids on Christmas morning
Just for that feeling of your club winning
Money, greed, has taken over
loyalty has fallen at the feet of money
The game will never be the same again
The game of football

Senior Cup

We waited for kick off
All stood in formation
The crowd cheered with elation
Nerves had been building since last night
They prepared me for the ahead fight
I had never felt like this before
The nerves grew even more
I had been waiting for this for years
It was Senior Cup Final Day


School’s dropping homework on us like it’s pouring rain
My life at home isn’t yours to control so stay in your lane
Carrying so many books, but can’t use our lockers
Legs hurt so bad, can’t even play soccer
Forcing us to wear uniforms like we’re in prison
Our voices are loud but they won’t listen
School in our minds, spreads like a tumor
Has no room for our senses of humor.

The Goat

On the night the goat broke loose,
On grand parade,
All the people of cork city,
We’re afraid
And the shout went round the county,
The glen have won the county
On the night the goat broke loose,
On grand parade

The Week Begins

Cold morning by the cross
Waiting for a lift
Thinking about the disco last Friday
And getting the shift
But now its a Monday
And its English first class
Another class of literature
What a pain in the ass
Throwing books round the classroom
Always good craic
Getting caught by a teacher
I’m under attack
Slagging the lads at break
It never gets old
‘You are not doing enough schoolwork!’
I always get told
I go home and play music
Play god of war till im stuck
Why am i not studying you ask?
Cause i don’t give a…

County final

As i look back over these last few years
I see how many big moments i have shared
With the team through sorrow and with victory
Our team became a family that cared
No matter what happened we were together
That was our team and i was proud to be a part of it


The beautiful game
Made by the poor taken by the rich
The power and the Money
Executives, CEOs, sheikhs.
The game created in the streets
Now in the spot light
Millions try millions fail
The lucky few now in view
History is nothing
Money is power
New teams come and old teams fail
The game has changed forever.


The times are posted, I am last.
It’s no surprise, being the weakest .
Every training session, my race prospects
Seem the worst, the hardest, and the bleakest
On the river, they pass me out
Never talking or smiling
Deep down, they quietly doubt
My abilities
The coaches say I need to be better
Faster, stronger, more dedicated
The training sessions smother
Like a big sweater
My hands blister, My back aches,
Coaches constantly up the stakes.
But without it I would be adrift,
is it a curse or is it a gift?


I arrive at school , Monday morning,
Watching the clock go by,
Finally the bell goes , and we all move like a kite,
Lunch it is now , eating with the lads,
Making the jokes and having the craic,
Bell goes again, crawling to the next class.
Waiting for the final bell, in the last Irish lesson ,
‘Conas ata tu’,
‘What is she saying’,
Cannot wait to get home and start sleeping.

Silver Medal

Ole ole ole
Throw my eyes to heaven
Feel too many emotions to count
My coaches voice still ringing in my ears
I raise my hand to wipe the tears
Take a deep breath
Began to walk,
I raise my head,
Accept my silver medal

An Idea

An idea is a fickle thing.
Squirming, flickering, breaking free
Fighting struggling what it could be
A revolution, a blunder, A wondrous thing
We’ll just have to wait and see

Rugby is War

From the pitches on Landsdowne Road
To where we dream to score
Tackles that shake your core
There’s nothing we love more
That sport that you adore
Rugby is a war !

The Clock

The clock is ticking
Eyes are watching
Your legs are trembling
The time has come
For the job to be done
Ambiguity has struck
The build up as you come to the reality is terrifying
Your mind is what seems to be blank
Last weeks preparation has gone to waste
The embarrassment seems inevitable
And your fate is soon to come true
This is it the leap of fate ,
You step onto the stage and….. wait
Everything becomes is crystal clear as the crowd roars in anticipation

I’ll do it again

The cries of joy,
The silence of disappointment.
The breaking of bone,
The tearing of flesh.
The fresh early mornings,
The bitter late nights.
Was it all worth the pain?
I’d do it again


My Queen
The girl of my dreams,
More beautiful than a summers day
I love her memes,
I prefer her to Norway
She is my northern lights
Showing me the way
She is the lighting to my day
Oh lovely Queen

Peanut Bar

I’m a peanut bar and I’m hear to say
Your dignity will arrive another day
Every time you ponder
I shall take away
If you try harder
I will take away
Remember for the next day
I control you in every single way

A Game of Thinking

Soccer is a game of thinking,
Players are the best,
Players are stinking,
Heart beating out of your chest,
Speed, stamina, brains all put to test.
Some love playing the game,
Some do it all for fame,
Some do it with friends,
Some cant wait till it ends


Hatred for a boy who did little wrong,
a girl who lies easily, like a song,
countless situations that I rarely ever understand,
and they all have to do with people from a different land,
a close friend caught up in all the drama,
with a girl who thinks she’s the Dalai Lama,
different facts many people shout,
but I hope we’re near the final bout.


Yelling, screaming, shouting
These things, they weaken you,
The pain or humiliation after losing or failing,
These things, they weaken you,
When you get shouted at over the littlest thing,
these things they weaken you,
not getting beaten up or losing a fight,
at the end of the day, words are my kryptonite