Friday, June 15, 2012

The Lismore Tidy Towns Committee

Oh, the river walk by the Owenashad
was a lovely place that one time had
speedwell, toothwort, anemones
and flowers so rare and pretty.
The people came to stroll and dream
beside the gently lapping stream,
till it caught the attention of the Lismore
Tidy Towns Committee.

Now, the LTT is a body that
has improved our urban habitat.
They’ve tackled well the problems
that beset both town and city.
They’ve planted boxes, trees and shrubs,
improved the look of shops and pubs –
oh yes, we’re very grateful to
the Tidy Towns Committee.

But then they decided, off the cuff,
that nature wasn’t tidy enough
and Waterford County Council found
some money in the kitty.
And in the great bulldozers roared
and bushes and wild plants were floored,
courtesy of that well-meaning
Tidy Towns Committee.

Woodrush, garlic, pignut too,
along with the famous Lismore Blue –
all were cleared to make a path
both rubble-strewn and gritty.
Gone are the speedwell, ferns and sedges,
gone the birds that nest in the hedges,
tidied up quite neatly by
the Tidy Towns Committee.

And now I walk in the aftermath,
along this rubbled, soulless path
and passers by inform me that
they feel it’s such a pity
that the lovely walk that we one time had
by the peaceful, lapping Owenashad
has been vandalised completely by
the Tidy Towns Committee.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

The real X factor

To those who sweat in pubs and clubs
and grubby half-filled village halls
where recognition never calls,
I clap politely. Stardom snubs
but, in your picking fingers, you
have far more talent than the climbin’
wannabes who dress like Simon
thinks they should. To art be true,
learn well your trade and you will find
a joy that will sustain you till
you die. And you will surely fulfill
the dream that needs no contract signed.
I beg you, don’t throw in the towel –
there’s more to life than Simon Cowell.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Please stop asking me to approve treaties

Please stop asking me to approve treaties –
my head’s in bits and my stomach’s in tatters
and I’ve got a really bad case of the DTs.

Grubby old men, stop offering me sweeties!
I feel like Alice in a room of Mad Hatters
when you keep asking me to approve treaties.

We had a great night over at Cousin Beattie’s
and I really can’t focus on such matters,
suffering badly, as I am, with the DTs.

I need camphor oil and cups of sweet teas,
not all this shyte you’re throwing at us
about whether or not I should approve treaties.

Bleary-eyed, my face resembles E.T.’s
(a comparison, alas, that only flatters
when I’ve a really bad case of the DTs.)

So stop! Heed my earnest entreaties,
all ye Joe Higgins and Alan Shatters.
Please desist asking me to approve treaties
when I’ve a really bad case of the DTs.