Retrospect in Rhyme

Her words echo cruelly through my brain

unrelenting

Forcing me into repenting

sins i never even knew existed.

I could have resisted

but my ears have been listed

as part of my anatomy

that's the fact of me

and after she had taken all of me

she never even called on me

to see if her 'prodegy'

still existed.

Not even an apology.

I feel for her at the end of the day

but in another way, i reel from her

Fiocle 4th March 2011

Elections, Secrets and Pancakes.

The elections are coming up in two weeks. The only good thing about them is the arrival of my children, an excuse for them to come home for the weekend.

Leo says he has a legal secret, one his friends approve but not the sort of thing you would tell your parents. I promised I wouldn't dwell on it, but I find myself asking a lot of unanswered questions.

Is he a cross-dressing-drug-dealer? (no, that is not legal, phew!), is he volunteering to canvass for Fianna Faille (Feel 'n Fall), the corrupt party we are trying to oust? Is he working as a male stripper in some sleazy back-street club? Is he busking naked on Grafton Street? Is he playing the Tambourine for Johnny Logan? Did he change his name to Rumplestiltskin? I will probably never know, but the lesson, my friends is this. Don't ever tell your mother that you have a secret, if you don't want her to tear her hair out wondering what it is. The interesting thing is that he has forced me to think about the kinds of things I wouldn't approve of, albeit all above board. Quite the conundrum...lol Oh, I know! He got a tattoo saying: "I hate Mum and Dad, in between ten thousand nipple piercings! That has to be it. Leo, you found yet anther way to drive me crazy...lol

Moving on...the elections are boring me to tears, so much so that a friend and I have come up with some funny things we would like to do if the canvassers come to the door.

What to do...

• take notes on all their promises and when they have finished; get them to sign the bottom of the paper.
• walk them to their cars and wave handkerchiefs at them a la 1950's
• ask them into the house and very deliberately lock the door...just to see their faces
• fashion an apron made from the Tricolour. Ask them if they'd like one of your special scones. Butter the scone with a butcher's cleaver.
• Write a list and as they speak, tick and cross out while looking over the rim of your glasses, going "hmmmm..."
• give them an awkwardly long hug and whisper in their ear 'this is nice isn't it?'
• be uncomfortably touchy-feely with them. Hold their hand whilst they speak.
• Explain to them that you think this whole Easter Rising thing was sort of a mistake. While doing so, play Rule Britannia in the background.
• When they come in and sit down; switch on a Barry White CD and say 'shall we dance'. 'I've been waiting on you'.
• Have a birthday party set up, balloons and cup-cakes, invite them ALL to play musical chairs and whoever wins gets to be Taoiseach. Then, as they leave give them party bags with instructions on how to distribute the taxes appropriately.
• Tell them to go get the money where it really is: in the underground mines of the leprechauns.

St Val's Day (bless his little heart) is behind us, so if i can find a way to make these next two weeks go by without any callers (think a notice saying: Beware of the Politician- Eating Mutt, might do it)... I can look forward to making bunny rabbit-shaped pancakes on Shrove Tuesday. Now THAT I can handle...

Crying Blame.

Isn't it a shame there's a word called blame

"Forgive them they know not what they do."

the introspective must hide

while the whole world must cry

"All this is because of you!"

I have been blamed and as a result

I lay blame upon myself too

I am innocent, I am not the government

and I didn't try to screw you.

But you point your fingers long and thin

away from me but at everyone else

I am too weak, it's shelter I seek

And I find myself taking my pulse.

Swan Song Ego Trip

... he put me on hold

while he let things unfold

and my love for him started to wane

the bitterness brewed,

while the lonliness stewed

and practically drove me insane

I waited it out, else to do there was nout

I just carried on doing my thing

he wasn't to know, that when he did go

on his return I would give him the sting.

See, I formed a plan, didn't need a man

to screw me up body and soul

I was a swan and I would swim on

using my brain clear and bold.

Now I'm alone, have been for so long

I wonder did I do the right thing

just that we were so young

when we started that song

and now it's too late

that's the thing.

I have no regrets

but i'd be hedging my bets

that deep down inside, I still do

the whole thing was a mess

but now I regress

cos honey, this song is for you.

The King's Speech

A single swan statuesque on the still water, against the deep blue of the night sky, the ripples individually highlighted by the lights lining the nineteen arches bridge. I walk alone but not lonely, towards the cinema...

The film was excellent.