For you it has been just another bad day
The boss knocked you back for a raise in pay
The year for you rather badly began
When your wife left and took with her your three years old daughter to live with another man
Though you treated her well as a good man treats his wife
With another she choose for to start a new life
That lady luck is not on your side is obviously clear
For you this has not been a very good year
With the trials of life you are struggling to cope
But you are a person who is not without hope
Of better times in the days ahead
Despair only invades the mind of where all hope is dead
There is nothing in your life for you to celebrate
Lady luck has not been on your side of late.
Monday, September 4, 2017
There I Used To Live
There i used to live when my hair was dark brown
Claraghatlea in the countryside near Millstreet Town
From where i first looked on the bright lamp of day
Time that rusts iron has me far away
The mentors of my younger years i will never more see
But i owe them for life's insights that they passed on to me
Happy with their lot they never yearned for wealth and renown
The life's knowledge they had to the young they passed down
In reality the old fields i may not walk on again
But such wonderful memories of them i retain
I knew some of them by their given name
Today as they were perhaps they would look the same
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy.
Claraghatlea in the countryside near Millstreet Town
From where i first looked on the bright lamp of day
Time that rusts iron has me far away
The mentors of my younger years i will never more see
But i owe them for life's insights that they passed on to me
Happy with their lot they never yearned for wealth and renown
The life's knowledge they had to the young they passed down
In reality the old fields i may not walk on again
But such wonderful memories of them i retain
I knew some of them by their given name
Today as they were perhaps they would look the same
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy.
Sunday, September 3, 2017
Jack Sorensen
Jack Sorensen who was born in Kalgoorlie was a boxer, shearer, soldier and a poet
And he was one who truly lived his verses and deserve to be one of great literary note
But in his prime years in the early twentieth century blank verse the literary critics did promote
And dismissed every rhymer as a mere poetaster and rhyme as a form of poetry did demote
In World War 2 he fought in bloody battles of his home Country Australia far away
But he came home a mentally diminished person a price of war that most soldiers have to pay
In nineteen forty nine he committed suicide on a ship that from Sydney to Perth was bound
He did not make it back home again for to grow old on his homeground
He had been in war and was mentally scarred by where many of his brave young comrades fell
The war experience on him greatly impacted and like many ex war soldiers he became mentally unwell
Jack Sorensen wrote some quite amazing poetry his verse in beauty and inspiration does not lack
The great Western Australia poetess Mary Durack was one who did admire the poems of Jack
One who lived a nomadic and a rough existence and life to him it was not very fair
He had survived war but in his forties he lost out to the black moods of despair
The talented Jack Sorensen was an amazing person with rhyming words he loved to play
One of the great rhyming poets he was quite underrated and this does seem a sad thing to say
He choose to die young in his early forties and did not live on to grow old and frail and gray
For those who are fans of good rhyming poetry his verses can be read online today.
And he was one who truly lived his verses and deserve to be one of great literary note
But in his prime years in the early twentieth century blank verse the literary critics did promote
And dismissed every rhymer as a mere poetaster and rhyme as a form of poetry did demote
In World War 2 he fought in bloody battles of his home Country Australia far away
But he came home a mentally diminished person a price of war that most soldiers have to pay
In nineteen forty nine he committed suicide on a ship that from Sydney to Perth was bound
He did not make it back home again for to grow old on his homeground
He had been in war and was mentally scarred by where many of his brave young comrades fell
The war experience on him greatly impacted and like many ex war soldiers he became mentally unwell
Jack Sorensen wrote some quite amazing poetry his verse in beauty and inspiration does not lack
The great Western Australia poetess Mary Durack was one who did admire the poems of Jack
One who lived a nomadic and a rough existence and life to him it was not very fair
He had survived war but in his forties he lost out to the black moods of despair
The talented Jack Sorensen was an amazing person with rhyming words he loved to play
One of the great rhyming poets he was quite underrated and this does seem a sad thing to say
He choose to die young in his early forties and did not live on to grow old and frail and gray
For those who are fans of good rhyming poetry his verses can be read online today.
Johnny The Champion
The best athlete in the Country when in his physical prime
Old Johnny the Champion has lost out to time
The years on the best of them eventually does show
And Johnny by time had been left walkng slow
At the height of his glory so quick on his feet
Against the best in the Country with success he did compete
In hundreds of track races he seldom knew of defeat
And everytime he competed he was the one to beat
Of his big athletic wins stories written and told
But even the best becomes slower as they grow old
The onset of age is beyond our control
And time on the body eventually takes it's toll
Johnny the Champion at peace now does lay
The once great athlete he was buried today.
Old Johnny the Champion has lost out to time
The years on the best of them eventually does show
And Johnny by time had been left walkng slow
At the height of his glory so quick on his feet
Against the best in the Country with success he did compete
In hundreds of track races he seldom knew of defeat
And everytime he competed he was the one to beat
Of his big athletic wins stories written and told
But even the best becomes slower as they grow old
The onset of age is beyond our control
And time on the body eventually takes it's toll
Johnny the Champion at peace now does lay
The once great athlete he was buried today.
Gene Sheehan
Not many people born and raised in Duhallow can speak five languages though i know of one who can
Yet strangely enough in the Barony of Duhallow in north Cork he is not a celebrated man
Far south of Kilcorney and Hibernia's windswept shore
He is the only dentist who can speak Chineses mandarin in Singapore
Gene Sheehan of Kilcorney a fellow who has travelled far and wide
Beyond the borders of Duhallow's green countryside
Is one who has made a name for himself in sky miles far away
From where he first looked on the bright lamp of day
Though any fame or recognition for himself he does not seek
To be Singapore's only mandarin speaking dentist does make him unique
Yet to many today his is a stranger's face
In Duhallow and Kilcorney his original homeplace
One in life who has become the best person he possibly can be
That his achievements does speak for themselves one does have to agree
Though in Duhallow he will never be named as the man of the day
And the Millstreet and Cullen pipers bands for him will never play
A migrant of Kilcorney in a class of his own
As Singapore's only mandarin speaking dentist he has become widely known
To be the best person he can be Gene Sheehan remains true
And credit to the unsung one is only his due.
Yet strangely enough in the Barony of Duhallow in north Cork he is not a celebrated man
Far south of Kilcorney and Hibernia's windswept shore
He is the only dentist who can speak Chineses mandarin in Singapore
Gene Sheehan of Kilcorney a fellow who has travelled far and wide
Beyond the borders of Duhallow's green countryside
Is one who has made a name for himself in sky miles far away
From where he first looked on the bright lamp of day
Though any fame or recognition for himself he does not seek
To be Singapore's only mandarin speaking dentist does make him unique
Yet to many today his is a stranger's face
In Duhallow and Kilcorney his original homeplace
One in life who has become the best person he possibly can be
That his achievements does speak for themselves one does have to agree
Though in Duhallow he will never be named as the man of the day
And the Millstreet and Cullen pipers bands for him will never play
A migrant of Kilcorney in a class of his own
As Singapore's only mandarin speaking dentist he has become widely known
To be the best person he can be Gene Sheehan remains true
And credit to the unsung one is only his due.
Saturday, September 2, 2017
Human Fidelity
A wrinkled old lady over eighty in years
At the thought of her long deceased husband she feels moved to tears
The father and grandfather of her family as a great man in her words she portray
Though few who knew him does agree with what of him she does say
That he used to beat her after going home from the pub at night
Often leaving her with bruises on her boday and a face that looked a sorry sight
Yet she did remain with him until his life's end
Her fidelity is that of a four legged friend
Not the type of man a widow should remember with pride
But the person he really was in her words she tries to hide
Those who knew him and the type of person he was quite well
Of him have quite a different story to tell
Call this repressed memory or call it what you may
But of the husband who often bashed her she only has nice things to say
And in her words she will praise him for as long as she will live
In truth she cannot forgive if she feels she has nothing to forgive
Every time she talks of her dead husband there are tears in her eyes
And this to those who knew the man will never cease to surprise
Such fidelity for their masters in dogs one always does find
But it is quite a rare trait in the human kind.
At the thought of her long deceased husband she feels moved to tears
The father and grandfather of her family as a great man in her words she portray
Though few who knew him does agree with what of him she does say
That he used to beat her after going home from the pub at night
Often leaving her with bruises on her boday and a face that looked a sorry sight
Yet she did remain with him until his life's end
Her fidelity is that of a four legged friend
Not the type of man a widow should remember with pride
But the person he really was in her words she tries to hide
Those who knew him and the type of person he was quite well
Of him have quite a different story to tell
Call this repressed memory or call it what you may
But of the husband who often bashed her she only has nice things to say
And in her words she will praise him for as long as she will live
In truth she cannot forgive if she feels she has nothing to forgive
Every time she talks of her dead husband there are tears in her eyes
And this to those who knew the man will never cease to surprise
Such fidelity for their masters in dogs one always does find
But it is quite a rare trait in the human kind.
On The Twenty Ninth Of August
The first of September and the southern calendar Spring only two sleeps away
In the sunlit park such a beautiful day
Not too warm or cool with a gentle breeze
In near to perfect weather temperatures of around sixteen degrees
The nesting wild born birds chirp, whistle and sing
In their natural instincts they sense the coming of Spring
To pass on their genes in them there is the need
The natural urge it has come upon them for to breed
In Nature no shortage of things about for to write
In hearts of yellow and petals of white
The perennial daisies in full bloom are all around me
In Nature there is always great beauty to see
On the twenty ninth of August such a beautiful day
And Spring to the southern shore on her way.
In the sunlit park such a beautiful day
Not too warm or cool with a gentle breeze
In near to perfect weather temperatures of around sixteen degrees
The nesting wild born birds chirp, whistle and sing
In their natural instincts they sense the coming of Spring
To pass on their genes in them there is the need
The natural urge it has come upon them for to breed
In Nature no shortage of things about for to write
In hearts of yellow and petals of white
The perennial daisies in full bloom are all around me
In Nature there is always great beauty to see
On the twenty ninth of August such a beautiful day
And Spring to the southern shore on her way.
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