Poem Number 204 - Result Of Good Production - 17/2/1987

As time will pass on, from the younger generation to the youngest,

As tears will be shedding from an injured young girl,

Let those who don’t want to be educated properly,

Be free of their own thoughts of mind and will.

As parents give birth to our children and they grow in pain,

As our children will be the parents of their future children,

They that don’t want to participate in our whole world,

Should be locked away on an island, with no assistance given by anyone.

They that feel unwanted by others are they that oppose themselves to others,

May the cheers and happiness fall upon all of the good peoples.

May they stand up proud and look upon their lives,

As being the excellent final result of good production.

Poem Number 203 - Without Any Hell - 16/2/1987

They that change to hurt one’s desire,

They that enforce the law and the order,

They that direct, by more than one language,

Are they the ones who’ll end up being in hell, like guinea pigs?

Anger and fully inflamed emotions don’t disappear,

They continue each every single day, to grow the hatred against the others,

Disappointment is a momentous occasions with each minute,

Then verbal disagreance appears. They want to exploit your mistake!

To them, you put on a brilliant show of appreciation,

Daily, ‘thanks’ and ‘thankyou’s’ are only said by you.

When you turn around, the whispers are silent,’

And then while you are looking ahead, there are increases in voices sounds.

They’ll storm down through your pathways,

They’ll come running down with whips, touching your back.

They’ll threaten you in all ways, but one:

The one you are self-forced, in to do.

Mother’s nature and god’s mankind, is out there somewhere,

Trying not to commit all of ‘The T en Commandments’,

Trying to lesson the individual human’s pressures from outsiders,

Making life so easy to enter heaven, without any hell.

Poem Number 202 - Young Son - 12/2/1987

The olden days of remembrance, of my school days,

Reflect joy and the problems of reaching puberty.

In primary at St. Canice’s there were girlish games we played,

Hopscotch, movie stars and skipping, but we grew out of them!

I remember one day, I’ll never for forget till death,

Is the time that my teacher, pinned on myself: an envelope with stars

Somehow stating that I was the best pupil in the class, on that day,

And yet, I remember busting my guts, to get that award.

My Mum and Dad were wondering what I had on my shirt,

And when they finally read it (as they drove to pick me up,

Their surprised reaction showed overjoyment of satisfaction,

The faces of proudness, of their young son!

Poem Number 201 - Mystery Past Love - 10/2/1987

Man:                What did make us break away,

                        Far from our fun loving days?

                        Was it too much love,

                        Spread between us?

Woman:           Oooh! Maybe if you rinse your sweet little face clean,

                        To show your true colors of your fresh skin,

                        Maybe, you’ll see clearly your self, in the shadows:

                        The torn deepen woods, in-between us.

                        Just think of the good times we had always had.

                        Never think of the worse, than that of the bad!

Man:                I feel shocked. I feel startled.

                        To hear those words, make me feel so guilty,

                        I must tie a hangman’s knot,

                        So that my head will be hanging from the noose:

                        Every swing I will have,

                        Will take more of my breath away, for me to die.

Woman:           Every swing will bring disaster!

                        Every breath is what you need to live!

                        Come and be cheerful with all the friends you have hiding from,

                        Come and be merry and let happiness shine upon you.

                        For best days of your bright future,

                        Will be awaiting beautiful maiden, ready for marriage!

Poem Number 199 - To Be Found And Cared - 2/2/1987

A sad touch of what thought to be a delightful moment,

Made a light change to my own excitement.

Such that, it was ‘Julie’ had never called me,

That was the end of a small beginning!

My heart; not so strong was befitting,

Waiting for at least another night out or two.

But, as it turned out for better or for worse,

Again, it was I, at who was left at the tail end of a horse.

There are other options (of the other sex), out there,

To be found and cared for on my own field.

There are more than ample activities for me to work on,

To occupy my mind on clean, pure and innocent things.

At least, I didn’t leave ‘Julie’ pregnant,

To leave her on her own, to be self-feeding a child.

No bastard on earth should leave a woman like that!

To be left finding any kind of crusts of bread, in the street. 

Poem Number 200 - Car Driving - 2/2/1987

Poor old John had no car for too long,

And survived by everyday of public transport.

It was all right at first, to him,

But this feeling didn’t last too long, for him.

Personal, private pressures and an old jealousy or two,

Kept reminding himself of his car-owned driving days:

No major worries of time distance and know how,

No serious headaches of annoyance of response.

Now he drives with such joy to ease,

Finding a better happiness, in lifestyle,

Whilst thoughts of purchasing new parts are constant and daily,

To keep the parts of the car driving, forever and forever.