that dark place,
Reilly thought about his life and his fate,
About the jerk he had been,
To everyone he had seen,
So he promised to be good, did Reilly.
Suddenly, a stick falling into the hole,
Presented a way to escape from it all,
Once free of that space,
Reilly forgot his promise, though great.
And returned to his bad ways, did Reilly.
One day when Reilly was alone,
He forgot to cover his dank home,
It was an incredibly hot day,
The sun shone brightly away,
And dried him, that bad slug, old Reilly,
The moral of my story is this,
Treat everyone you meet with a wish,
That their life is just fine,
Untroubled by lying and slime,
Don’t end up like silly old Reilly.
To Boldly Go
To boldly go where no man has gone,
Our intrepid explorers fight the Klingons,
They battles with foes and forces unknown,
Kirk and his crew are so far from home.
Warping past Dwarfs as red as can be,
Streaking through space, and all for the free,
The freedom of choice, for you and for me,
Our intrepid explorers go forward boldly.
Out into the blackness, the fear and the dread,
Kirk and his crew by passion are led,
Explorers by nature, fighters by chance,
Man and machine go boldly ever on.
It was a voyage of years, a mission of five,
That’s all was intended, I tell you no lie,
But forty years later they’re still forging on,
Faster and faster towards a new dawn.
The Brains of Branson
If I had the brains of Branson,
He guile, ambition and throw,
I might be up there with him,
In a Virgin empire of my own,
I might be sitting there pretty,
With the whole world at my feet,
With nothing at all to worry about,
My life would be complete.
But I’m not up there with him,
‘Cos my brain is slightly askew,
Seeing things that bit differently,
My ‘off’ was later; it’s true,
But now that I’ve seen the light,
The route where my destiny lies,
I am catching up fast with him,
Save me a space Richard, I soon will arrive!
Skulduggery’s Afoot
Skulduggery’s afoot; did you hear him say,
Trouble’s abroad, that means TODAY.
It’s time to face the Faceless Ones,
Skulduggery and friend; his best number one.
Skulduggery is dead; he is only some bones,
Traipsing through of Dublin, appearing alone
And just as we think he is finished – again,
Valkyrie appears and saves her best friend.
Derek Landy, a cabbage farmer by trade,
Was inspired to create said detective and aid,
While tending his crops in the field one day,
He shouted, Eureka, I have it; I’m made!
I won’t have to tend cabbages anymore,
Working the fields until my back is so sore,
Skulduggery and partner will give me it all,
Money and fame; I will have such a ball!
It’s goodbye from Derek and adios from me,
He’s off to the bank and I’m off to a field,
Searching through cabbages for ideas of my own,
Like The Crazymad Detective with a sidekick called Bones.
Nah, that’s no good, it’s too corny; let me see...
Ah, I have it, Doctor Bones and his Travelling Palaces.
That certainly has a ring to it.
You want to know what a Travelling Palace is?
Hah, that’s easy to explain.
No, I won’t tell you! Read Alice in Wonderland Christmas.
And when you have read it you will understand what they are.
Sarah Brightman
There is a woman of beauty and allure,
A lady so wondrous my heart’s in a whir,
My head’s in the clouds, all fluttered and proud,
That she is on earth; I shout it aloud!
I must tell every man, woman and child,
That this lady, so grand, has me beguiled,
She charmed me right there, when I first heard her sing
When I saw her fair radiance I felt like a king.
Sarah’s true beauty has shown me one thing,
That everything’s possible, that everyone wins,
If we can see that this is true,
The world is our oyster and everything new.
Harry Potter's Ford Anglia,
Is this Harry Potter's Ford Anglia?
The one he drove carelessly,
The car he almost destroyed,
In an evil, swirling tree?
Or is it another Ford Anglia?
Protected, cosseted, well cared,
A car, discreet and so boring,
An entirely different affair?
Look at its paintwork,
With chrome shiny and new,
No, this cannot be his Ford Anglia,
I wish it was mine, though, I really do!
We Three Beetles
We three beetles, so hungry we are,
Bearing six legs, we travel so far,
Hedge and garden,
Field and grassland,
Searching for caterpillar.
Oh, Caterpillar juicy, caterpillar nice,
Tempting us beetles throughout the night,
Creeping, seeking, still proceeding,
Searching for the perfect bite.
Beetles are king of insects, we are
Black on black, our royal charter,
Eating ever, ceasing never,
Searching for caterpillar.
Oh, Caterpillar juicy, caterpillar nice,
Tempting beetles throughout the night,
Creeping, seeking, still proceeding,
Searching for the perfect bite.
Skytrain
Skytrain, high train, charging, barging,
Fly train, my train, harken, harken,
To its whistle, blowing, blowing,
Time so fast, it’s going, going,
Warning me that it is flowing,
Ebbing from us, bodies groaning,
Listen, listen, before time has gone, be-christened,
Join me in this vehicle, glistening,
And cross the sky through clouds, relinquishing
Your grip on earth, material world lessening.
Pumpkin Heads
Pumpkin heads, pumpkin heads, ho, ho, ho, it’s the pumpkin heads,
Creepy things, eerie things, scaring half to death,
Pumpkin heads we must get!
Pumpkin heads, pumpkin heads, ho, ho, ho, it’s the pumpkin heads,
Yellow things, orange things, burning bright inside,
Pumpkin heads or we will cry!
Pumpkin heads, pumpkin heads, ho, ho, ho, it’s the pumpkin heads,
Witches here, wizards near, chanting round them lit,
Pumpkin heads: on them we’ll sit!
Pumpkin heads, pumpkin heads, ho, ho, ho, it’s the pumpkin heads,
Smash them up, bash them up, ‘till they’re whacked to bits,
Pumpkin heads, hit, hit, hit!
Tired heads, sleepy heads, zzz, zzz, zzz, we’re going to bed,
Land of nod, brains a’ fogged, drifting off to sleep,
Pumpkin heads next year – and heaps!
Noddy and Big Ears – but Golliwog is Banned!
Noddy and Big Ears were out driving one day,
When they heard that Golliwog was not allowed to s
tay,
He’s politically incorrect they were told by their peers,
Golliwog must go; do we make ourselves clear?
Golliwog must go, but how can that be?
He is our dear friend, this just cannot be!
We have had such good times with him and his kin,
Golliwog, you stay, they said with a grin.
Weighing down harder on Noddy and friend,
Their peers chastised them with their words once again,
The powers that be say he is not good for this land,
Or the people within it; Golliwog is banned!
Golliwog is banned, now we know that you’re bad,
Said Noddy and Big Ears, (they were really quite mad),
To punish our friend, to exile him in disgrace,
Just because of his colour, the look of his face!
Fighting back harder, Noddy and Big Ears they sang,
We’ll bring you to court, the highest in the land,
We’ll tell them you are racist for denying our friend,
Our dearest friend Golliwog, and also his kin.
Aghast and bamboozled that their case it was lost,
Their peers relinquished their grip on the plot,
Okay, they conceded, Golliwog can stay,
Hurray, Noddy cheered, come on, Golly, let’s go play!
Africa, Africa
Africa, Africa, a land of dark nights,
Home of the many, home of the right,
A people, once voiceless, will have time in the sun,
When prosperity follows and wars are all done.
Hunger and famine will be a thing of the past,
Dictators forgotten – who were they? You ask,
The days will be brighter, that’s how it will be,
In Africa, Africa, the land of the free.
Lead a Good Life
Lead a good life; full to the brim.
Enjoy each day as if it’s the last one you win,
Show by example how much you can do,
Whilst here on this plain, this earthly pursuit,
And when you are in your death bed, so grim,
You will gaze up from it with a wink and a grin,
Saying, I lived a good life, it was full to the brim,
I led by example, never lecturing about sin,
And closing my eyes for the last time on earth,
I will see angels around me guiding me forth,
Through the pearliest of gates, I will see my way home,
To God’s heavenly love, sitting adjacent his throne.
I Am a Stone Picker
I am a stone picker, a stone picker I am,
A picker of stones in little Ireland,
I walk through the fields picking stones up,
Lest wheels of the tractors get broken up.
I am a stone picker, a stone picker; the best,
Picking up stones, I am the fastest; you bet,
The other stone pickers tire soon after they start,
Not me; I continue picking long after its dark.
I am a stone picker, a stone picker; it’s true,
Picking up stones be they many or few,
It’s what I do best, a stone picker I am,
Picking up stones in little Ireland.
Autumn Leaves
Autumn leaves falling, falling,
Light is fading; mourning, mourning,
Winter’s coming; warning, warning,
Time is fleeting; going, going.
Seize the moment; grab it, grab it,
Grasp your chance; do it, do it,
Change the world; mould it, fold it,
Into something brighter, nicer.
Summerland is coming, coming,
In OUR New World Order, order,
All will be free; equal, equal,
And bankers’ greed banished, vanished.
Angels Beside Me
Angels beside me every day,
Angels before me showing the way,
When I cannot see my way home,
Angels surround me, guiding me on.
Angels behind me, best friends, for true,
Whispering kind words whenever I’m blue,
Telling me that in Heaven above,
God is waiting to join me, in his true love.
Aliens Landed in Ballykilduff
Aliens landed in Ballykilduff,
Aliens landed; that is a fact,
In the dark of the night it happened, it did,
At the end of my garden they landed, then hid.
Breda, dear Breda, wake up, will you please?
Something is happening and I am all in a tizz!
Leave me alone, she answered, I’m beat,
Having said that to me she fell fast asleep.
Donning my gown and slippers I left,
Her sleeping in bed as into the kitchen I crept,
Searching for light, the torch, my best friend,
I opened the door and into the garden I went.
Towards the end of the garden with my torch I progressed,
Then I climbed over the fence into the field with its guests,
Pointing my torch, I rained light upon them,
Aliens a plenty around a spaceship humming.
What are they doing? I wondered out loud,
Signalling my place, my location – and how,
Pointing their guns, the Aliens zapped me with rays,
Blue, yellow and green, orange and grey.
Thinking my time was finished, all gone,
I fell to the ground awaiting the anon,
Sorry about that, one of them said helping me up
We thought you were a cow wanting to eat us all up
What are you doing? I asked with curious eyes,
Seeing them cutting the grass, then taking it inside,
We are refuelling our spaceship, he told me quite proud,
We get one light year per armful, he said out aloud.
That’s amazing, I said, can I go see inside?
Sorry, he answered, it’s too small for your like,
Laughing, I asked if there was anything they need,
Yes, he told me forthrightly, can we have some tea?
Tea? I asked, you drink tea way up there,
In outer space, with its atmosphere rare?
No, silly, he replied, it’s to pour down our boots,
We never travel with them empty, forsooth.
You pour tea down your boots? I laughed out loud,
What does it do, make you fly like a bird?
It does, he told me, how did you know that?
Was your mother or father an alien, or even your cat?
Just then I heard something, someone calling to me,
Gerrard, wake up, its morning; here is your tea,
Opening my eyes, I saw Breda, my wife,
Offering the cup of plenty, tea; it’s my life.
Where are my boots? I asked, still half sleep,
I want them, I need them; oh where are they please?
They are under the bed, here, she said, offering them to me,
Why do you want them before drinking your tea?
Accepting my boots, I poured in the tea,
What on earth are you doing? she asked warily,
I don’t go anywhere without filling them first,
Can I have another cup, I asked, because I sure have a thirst.
The moral of my story is this:
Don’t go anyway near Ballykilduff, GIVE IT A MISS,
Strange things are happening down that neck of the woods,
Like Aliens, and Slugs driving campervans – and Fiats to boot.
Don’t Be A Gadabout!
If you chose to walk alone,
Down country lan
es far from home,
Don’t be shocked if someone jumps out,
And says hello to the gadabout,
Strolling around like you own the place,
Every yard and inch, and wall and gate.
You might well say, that’s him, not me,
Who has a problem with affinity.
I tell you this, in truth, steer clear,
From spots remote near park and weir,
And if you choose to heed my call,
Your life will be good and you will not fall.
Dustbin Man
Dustbin man, dustbin man, ho, ho, ho, I’m the dustbin man,
Smelly bins, dusty bins, full of pongy stuff,
The dustbin man says I must rush!
Milk cart man, milk cart man, ho, ho, ho, I’m the milk cart man,
Ice cold milk, fresh cold milk, milk so good to drink,
The milk cart man says, drink, drink, drink!
Bread van man, bread van man, ho, ho, ho, I'm the bread van man,
Fresh hot bread, white hot bread, bread so good to eat,
The bread van man says, eat, eat, eat!
Dustbin man, dustbin man, ho, ho, ho, I’m the dustbin man,
Smelly bins, dusty bins, full of pongy things
The dustbin man says sing, sing, sing!!!
Are You Normal?
Are you normal?
Do you want to be,
A faceless person in a heaving sea,
With no aims, ambitions, dreams or goals,
Just happily plodding along that road?
Are you slowly dying?
Don’t you feel the magic of each new day,
The sounds of laughter as children play,
The warmth of the sun on your back, so good,
The song of birds, the smell of wood?
Are you passing time?
Don’t you wonder at the sky, so blue,
The start and end so vague to you?
I hear you say, I am happy, still,
So too is an ant that has no will.
Wake up, wake up!
It’s not too late,
There still is time to change your fate,
Renounce the normal, do something MAD,
Shock them all create a fad.
Be yourself, alive with goals,
With dreams and wonders still untold,
Exult life in your own distinctive way,
It’s yours alone; you must have your say,
Lest you slip into oblivion (without a trace).
Eyes a Popping
Today I went,
Christmas shopping,
Eyes a popping,
So much to see.
All around me,
Things to buy,
This is now my,
Time to live.
I make a purchase,
Then another,
It’s no wonder,
I am confused!
Lights asparkle,
Christmas glory,
Festive story,
All around.
Each queue I join,
More souls to greet,
To chat and meet,
To share the time.
When shopping’s over,
It’s time to ponder,
The meaning of,
Christmas day.
The Christ boy-child,
Came to earth,
Of virgin birth,
Peace and joy.
Do remember,
This, here, story,
Don’t be sorry,
Share your luck,
With those in need.
Originally Intended for Publication on April 1st.
I heard that the earth is flat,
That all these years it’s been like a mat,
That you hardly see or notice there,
Until you are told the earth is square.
And if it’s square then I am sure,
What I’ve been told is oh-so-flawed.
But perhaps it’s all a dream of sorts,
And when I awake all will be as before.
And if it’s not then I must learn,
Not to walk too far lest I fall off the edge.
Elusive Dreams
We all have our dreams,
Our ultimate goals,
How things might be,
If we were so bold,
As to follow our dreams,
And follow our hearts,
Despite the extremes,
We face at the start.
It can be achieved,
Of this I am sure,
With Spirit thus freed,
Abundance of store.
The conclusion will see,
That I was so right,
Once sacrifice made,
The future is bright.
Luco’s Preferred Drink
My drink of choice,
My choice of drink.
It gets me going,
Keeps me in the pink.
I keep it there,
Up on the shelf,
Close by me,
My own self.
And when I feel,
Tired and low,
It perks me up,
From head to toe.
Lucozade.
Old Friends Revisited
Snowdrops,
White drops,
Teardrops,
Jewels.
First friend,
Winter’s end,
Sadness end,
Treasures.
Joyful sight,
End of night,
Hail the light,
Eternal friends.
How To?
The shortest day,
All is affray.
The darkest night,
So full of fright.
The hush of death,
Quite short of breath.
It’s all around,
The only sound.
To escape the rot,
Have I forgot,
How to live?
Smelly Dogs Or Smelly Hogs?
Them for us,
Or us for them?
Are we right,
Or lacking in sight?
Do we need to scrutinise them?
Christmas Morn
At break of morn, before the dawn,
We open our eyes to see,
If he has been; we are so keen,
Will we be filled with glee?
We open the door, at half past four,
We must go take a peek,
What’s under the tree for you and me?
So down the stairs we creep.
We make our way and as we
My Crazmad Book of Poems Page 4
