Sunday, February 21, 2010

Willie O’Dea triolet

The spade sliced through the fertile earth too easily.
Too late, he saw he’d dug himself a tomb.
“Check the brothel out!” he’d swaggered breezily.
The spade sliced through the fertile earth too easily.
“But I’m a victim too!” he trembled queasily,
Forgetting people mock the man for whom
The spade has sliced through fertile earth too easily.
Too late! He saw he’d dug himself a tomb.
Many thanks to Kat Mortensen for introducing me to the triolet, which I'd never heard of!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

The Lament of George Lee

I was the Truth, I was the Light,
I was the man who’d make things right,
My election was a natural progression.
I was the One, I was the Prophet,
Those who wore a cap would doff it,
I was the man to lead the country from recession.

I was wise, I was respected,
As I passed, crowds genuflected,
I was Moses come to set his children free.
I was worshipped by the peasants
For my knowledge and my presence –
With hope, the country turned its eyes to me.

But in the corridors of power,
My great vision soon turned sour,
My aspirations spiralled down in flames.
As the new boy in the school,
They would take me for a fool
And never let me join in playground games.

I was the boy left by the wall
Always waiting for the call
Whenever they selected football teams.
In the back row of the class
I’d sit glumly on my ass,
The golden boys eclipsing all my dreams.

All I wanted was a mate
To reassure me I was great,
A friend who’d recognise my true ability.
But Enda and wee Dickie
Seemed to think I was a thickie
And wouldn’t let me near responsibility.

So I’m taking back my ball
And you can shag them, one and all,
No more you’ll see me on the campaign trail.
Under-utilised, my talents
In the field of budget balance
Will not be offered out to Fine Gael.