The One True Constant
She runs to me with eyes
Dancing with more joy than I
Or you or he will ever know again.
The wild winds pull curls loose from
The constraints put there lovingly
By someone else.
When will they see?
Will they chastise her?
Will her precious freckled cheeks soon play host
To confused tears,
Caused by the necessity of tidy hair?
She reaches me, and learns
The first sweet embrace of victory.
She has done it.
Her impossibly tiny legs have brought her here.
Will she be praised? Probably not.
What would the neighbours think?
Don’t run in public. Don’t talk to strangers.
I hope she feels,
In her black and white mind that it was worth it.
I hope the joy of the run was not overshadowed
By the bitterness of afterwards.
A Loud Silence
A loud silence
Sounds echo through stone
Metal studs drum off the floor
Step out the dressing room
A white lined colosseum
Defeat lurks on the grounds of judgement day
You fill with doubts
The sky feels so grey
But this field
Is the battleground of the ball you wield
22 men at war
Shaking rattles yourself to the core
The whistle screams into the sky
And that is the players’ battle cry
My eyes opened first,
To a world broken, messed up.
My mouth spoke first,
To a people hidden, unloved.
My ears heard first,
The unspoken, swallowed.
My eyes saw first,
Nations divided, race.
My heart felt first,
Separation from love.
I suppose that’s just life…
However I’m of the opinion,
That because I felt this first,
I can be happy;
‘Cause my soul first felt,
‘We’re trying to help’ they claim
Don’t want to blame
Full of tears
‘Life goes on’
Stifle a yawn
Return to normality
Heart of fire
‘You are strong’
The bell rings
Here we go again another day in this concrete box
Tick the box, fit in the box
Until one day he kicked the box
And said in peace and create my own serenity
And change the norms of how society view
The down trodden and stand up and rise
Raise your head and say “yes, I am different”
From the slums and the streets
To the rapid heart beats
From the alleys to the pitch
From broken to rich
Achieved goals and inspirations
Trigger great feelings of elation
Feelings of anxiety
Deprived him of his beauty sleep
He wears his shirt with pride
His judged with every stride
I Am Me
We blame social media for the problems that we face
But in fact it’s the people that we embrace
No one every thinks about one another
All they want is to hear the gossip from another
We learn from mistakes
But some people keep taking the wrong turns
People don’t think they will ever learn
They’re trapped in a circle of being someone they’re not
Never happy to look in the mirror to see what they got
And if they were to change
They would be called a bunch of names
And this needs to stop
Be who you are and not what people want you to be
Look in the mirror and smile to yourself and say ‘I Am Me’.
People judge you for whatever you do,
Even if you’re Winnie the Pooh.
Don’t let them bring you down to their size,
Just because they talk about your thighs.
They hurt you and they know it,
But now it’s time for you to expose it.
Tell everyone what they have done
Because it is time for you to have fun.
It’s time for you to release the shackles,
So you don’t have to listen to the cackles.
Don’t listen to the people who judge,
As they will only bring you through the sludge.
Look out for one another as if they were your mother.
I’m a 15 year old girl whose society expects all young girls to be perfect,
Have the perfect body shape, good grades and popularity.
I’m not perfect, my grades aren’t great and I’m not the most popular person in school,
Does that make me worthless? Am I a failure?
I’m not worthless or a failure I’m just different and trying like every other girl in the world,
No one is perfect and our society need to understand that
And stop putting pressure on us young, beautiful girls!
Sometimes you look at someone and you say to yourself ‘I wish I was them, they are so lucky’,
If you knew why they wear the make-up, the good-looking clothes and the mask,
You would wish they were you.
That girl you called ugly, she’s caking herself with make-up just to be socially accepted by others.
That boy you called an idiot, he’s deeply depressed and is on the verge of suicide.
The boy who bullies you, he’s being abused constantly at home.
The girl you called a whore, she’s being used by her parents as a prostitute.
When you look at someone and negatively speak of them
Because of how they walk and talk, think on this.
People wear a mask to hide their weakness and their pain because people told them to,
And you’re no different.
What is it to be happy?
A question many people ask
You will find the answer to this question
By taking a look at what you have
Being grateful is the first step
For the answer to be found
Place your hand on your chest
And you will feel the beating sound
This beating sound
It shows you are alive
Everyone should know
Life itself is something to be grateful for
Even if they are five
Take a look around you
And I’m sure you will see, then
There are people that love you
And you should be grateful for them
So continue through your life
And you shall see
That being grateful for what you have
Will indeed make you happy.
Voice shaking, tears rolling down your face.
You announce the news.
Shock and disbelief hit base.
We ask how, what, when unconfused.
Cause of death unknown
Have a backbone.
You preach but not practice
Which is completely tactless.
Honesty is the best policy
A complete novelty.
The truth is unveiled
I feel as though I have failed.
Failed to see all he had entailed.
Mental illness is no joke
I still fail to see why it was not spoke.
You acted ashamed as if you blamed him
That unnamed cause which is entirely grim.
The truth cut like a razor
I wished you hadn’t censored.
The Clash of Sticks
I hear the whistle blow,
With the ball in tow.
The deafening clash of sticks,
Unveiling their bags of tricks.
You define their worth by the scores on the board,
The one with the goals; oh my! What a lord.
But the ones you don’t see, the ones on the bench,
They do the real work, they’re down in the trench.
And as you applaud the players, hold them up high-
They slip to the side as they let out a sigh.
All they want is one little chance,
But never even once did you give them a glance.
Addiction to drugs
Addiction to alcohol
Can tear all apart
An endless cycle
Impossible to break
There is a light
A light at the end of
Friends and family
Break the cycle
Her familiar smell under our noses,
Up to Cork we go,
With nothing but our love to show,
Three days later,
She is lying on her death bed,
As memories of her replay in our heads,
Laying her down,
The whole cemetery filled with a frown,
Mam says don’t fret,
But I just can’t forget,
My family, my friend, Scarlett,
A girl so shy,
Afraid to show herself,
Too afraid to try,
No friends to her side.
She goes to school,
Thinks everyone is too cool,
She tries to fit in,
But isn’t that great.
The first of her type,
It wasn’t a snipe.
Its normal thinks she,
Back stab thinks he.
Her actions were sinister
She’s Madam Prime Minister.
But he’s still not finished,
The Member for Griffith
She’s gonna fight.
And it’s into the night.
It’s not Fair
I stare at the blank white box,
Not knowing where to start,
My mind just blocks,
I look to my heart.
Family? Friends? Hurt, pain?
All stuff I’ve dealt with,
But in this I won’t complain
So what I will say,
Is there’s not one the same,
But all labelled one name,
And it’s us to blame.
Would you name your mum,
Aunt, sister or daughter,
These demeaning words?
They do slaughter.
It’s not fair.
Oh I don’t know what I’d do without you,
The last four years has been with you.
In the end we got through it all,
We made sure all six of us did not fall.
We faced the hate they chose to throw,
We acted well to ‘go with the flow’.
Our whole world changed day by day
We tried to hide, we cared, ‘we’re okay’.
Gradually the tables began to turn,
They realised with us they had more fun.
Halloween was our ritual to light things up,
And that’s how it went, yup…
Kayleigh and Aoife
If I Met my Mother
If I met my mother I wouldn’t like her
If I met my mother I wouldn’t be her friend
If I met my mother she wouldn’t be mine
If she were not my mother and I met the woman she was
We would judge each other
We would sneer and curse each other’s name
Merely because we’re different merely because we can
Because girls pit each other against ourselves
Because girls fight for the myth of being “seen”
That is the lie the women live by
That all men start their story with when ask how they met their love
“Well I saw her from across the room”
This lie we choose to believe that creates the competitive nature that
If I met my mother I wouldn’t like her
Life is too short to worry,
Life is too short to be sad,
Life is too short to ponder
On things you will never have,
Life is too short for sadness,
Life is too short for tears,
Never count the day,
Never count the years
Life is too short for falling out,
Life is too short for war
Life is a gift don’t waste it
Life is so much more
It started at playschool with the rain dripping off the sleeves of a coat left in the rain,
I see it and say we should get it and they say no to stay inside,
Then start panicking and my tone change to worry from sane,
This was my first meeting with anxiety and wasn’t the last,
I felt the eyes turn as everyone looked what was happening,
As I left the nursery that day the memory blackened.
Year later anxiety decided to make a return trip,
But then I felt a feeling I hadn’t felt in over 10 years,
The first day back from Easter and started to grip on to me,
One night on my own my breathing speed increased and all I felt was fear,
I try my hardest to stop it but it had already took me on a journey of no return,
After anxiety had left it effect I had to learn how to deal with anxiety
A Simple Smile
A simple smile can change a life
It’s not that hard to do
It’s almost like it’s contagious
One smile leads to another
Be the One
I might not be the one
To be the one to make the change
But at least I try,
“Well at least I tried”,
That’s not me I won’t be the one,
To be the one who tried
I’ll be the one who changed
“But at least I tried”
Yellow is happiness and sunshine,
It is the honey of bees and warmth of summer,
It is the best part of a lifetime,
It’s the joy, love and peace given from her.
Yellow is the daffodils and buttercups of spring,
Looking at these flowers blossoming,
Watching the golden sun rise on a Monday morning,
Yellow should not be the colour of a chicken wing.
We used to talk to her every day, but not anymore
She used to want to make us scream and roar.
We couldn’t deal with her level of mean,
At the end of the day we were only teens.
It was all about her and not about us,
If she got her way she’d throw us under a bus.
I stood up and brought it to an end,
She moved schools and we made new friends.
We did feel bad but it had to be done,
When we were with her we weren’t allowed to have fun.
All we wanted was to get away,
Her presence did nothing but give us greys,
We don’t speak to her anymore,
And now we don’t feel the need to scream or roar.
My Family of Nine
A family of nine is hard to be in,
Seven children including me,
We fight and scream,
Over tiny things
We laugh and play
Until the end of the day
We love our parents
They are the best
They give us every opportunity
And believe in us
My mam is smart
My dad is committed
They are great
And are perfect together
My family of nine is hard to be in
But I love them all
And they mean the world to me
Animals love you,
Animals don’t judge you,
Animals see you for who you are,
Listen to you.
They are the friend you never had.
They make you feel like, you.
At the start I didn’t care
It was just a past time for me and my friends to share
But as I got older, the feelings got colder towards the sport.
Competition got harder and the coaches were stricter, only starting who they saw fitter.
On the bench match after match, the embarrassment started to make a scratch.
Your family would go to cheer you on, only to see that you didn’t get a run.
The lads would call you bench warmer or super sub,
And the coaches did nothing to stop them and that was problem.
They are liars,
They caused a ceasefire.
They knew about her party
They have no hearty
They called them a ‘handicap’,
That will be a back slap,
They will be her friend,
Just to attend,
They blame it on their issues
But nobody’s handing out tissues
Mindy my dog
Looks like a frog
She is very small
And does nothing at all
She can be cute
And likes to hoot
I love her all the same
But she drives me insane
Aoife and Siobhan
I walk on the pitch
I look at my stitch
Afraid it will burst open
I see people looking at me
They don’t hear my plea
“Life of Bricks”
People say that Lego is just a toy,
But it’s something that I enjoy.
Believe it or not it requires some skill,
Why do you think architects get such thrill.
It’s simply “brill”.
As well as that you can make movies,
But mine are sometimes groovy.
These are called animations
My main source is my imagination.
I grew up with my cousins
Sometimes we fought
Over the presents we had been bought
We all had our favourite auntie’s Jella and Lisa
They had no children and spoilt us rotten
Christmas day we were excited to see what each had gotten
Communions, confirmations, Christmas plays
We’d be there, laugh as we watched each other mess up
“Look at him on” we muttered through sniggers
On my communion I went up to read
I tore up the aisle at an ungodly speed
I stood behind the microphone
Took a deep breath and off I went
I looked at the congregation and there they were smirking away
My cousins. They wouldn’t be any other way
Life of Bike
Life of bike
Bike of life
Race to win or crash and die
Perceive relieve achieve it’s all a mind game
All to sacrifice your life for something you believe in
Get on the bike as if it’s your last time
This is what it takes to achieve this dream of mine
This game is not what is to perceive
This world is seen
I don’t care if you agree
This goal is about me
I have a passion for soccer
Because of the surprises of it
Such as screamers from 30 yards
And saves in the top corner
Bad ref decisions causing up roar
And incredible matches of excitement
No wonder it’s called the beautiful game
And that’s why I love it
Hurling, a sport popular in this place,
Mainly noticed for how it’s fast paced.
Out late at night playing in the dark,
Talking about the players we’d have to mark.
Running hard, trying to get fit,
Training in the cold is the worst part of it.
Over the bar for a point,
Three points for a goal,
And if you get a sticky corner back, he’s a pain in the hole.
Early in the morning having to get up,
All so you can lift that shiny cup.
Families come in all shapes and sizes,
Some are big, some are small,
Some have boys, some have girls,
Some have Moms, some have Dads,
And some have both,
No matter the family you have,
This matter isn’t a laugh,
They’ll always love you.
When you are playing on the grass,
You let out blood, sweat and tears,
Play that forward pass,
Cause it may lead to a big cheer,
Wanting the win is special,
You might go past the expected level,
As long as you’re free
People never thought you would be
Coming towards the final minutes
All with spirits
Nothing is better
Than a last minute header
People are fake
It makes me shake
They act like they care
When they don’t think of your welfare
There was a girl who wore green,
She spent her time on a screen,
Creeping on others content,
Being jealous is what it meant,
It’s a wildlife being her,
In her green jacket of fur,
There’s so many to blame,
But here we won’t name names
The game is deadly,
Our heads are sweaty,
We’re scarred with marks.
Do you get me?
Our hearts are pumpin,
Our minds are playin,
Our heads are thumping,
It’s everything or nothing.