| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/19/2007 11:50:09 AM | Belfast Town (when i was young)
Narrow streets in parallel terraces
Small and neat many like palaces
Homes with toilets without in the yards
Yes within them lived a few bards
Doorsteps shining polished and clean
Never heard a word obscene
Lamp posts lit by flickering light
No to many burned that bright
Quarry tiles in hallways beckoned
On the table a loaf of bracken
Doors left open always inviting
Sometime children outside fighting
No bathrooms within where I came from
But still home always felt like home
You got washed in a bath in front of the fire
The soap was rough it felt like wire
Churches languished on every street corner
Generally it was safe to dander and wander
Sweet shops normally a house converted
We never heard of the word perverted
Every friday with a couple of bob
Our Daw would give us after he finished his job
With a few pence we could get the Beano or Dandy
God I remember now I fancied Mandy
The entries run dark at the bottom of each street
We knew that was were all boggiemen would meet
When we passed a dark entry would would run like hell
If I was the last I would scream and yell
The roads had few cars and we could play with our guiders
Four wheels, two axles and we would go to buy sliders
The italians had come over perhaps after the War
Irrespective of religion they were the best for
Making ice cream that would melt on your pallet
Pity my poor Daw had not much in his wallet
There were bars on the corners across from the Church railings
And bookies where men would always be wailing
The pawn shops were again next to the bars
So men wanting a drink did not have to go far
At the top of the street ran what we called the Road
It was the hub of activity or so I am told
Each Saturday morning the shops would all be busy
Anything could be bought, it would make your head dizzy
The trams and the buses would ease the burden
For the shopping bags were laden that one day for certain
The other six days there was not much on the table
Speading things around, was what made women able
Clothes were handed down from brother to brother
Shorts and jumpers were sewn by your mother
Labels were things which had no real meaning
Those with money had cornices on their ceiling
The event of the summer was to go to the park
You could play football from dawn until dark
The swings had a see saw and a merry go round
And if you got loss you would be safely found
Our street was deserted no one had a car
Now and again we kids would run through the bar
In one door quickly and run out the back
But if you were caught you would surely get decked
Men took no nonsense they would give you a thump
If you complained to you mum she would take the hump
The adults chastised us but without any pleasure
They did it for our good and those memoires I treasure
A time when the poverty was abundant for all
But the doors were all open and you were welcome to call | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/19/2007 1:57:31 PM | I want
I want to love but know not why
I want to feel but cannot cry
I want to touch and also be touched
I want a little but I want it much
I want what others cannot give
I want so much so I can live
I want all things that money cannot buy
I want you and I want you now
I want what's mine what destiny has ordained
I want what others may also destain
I want the want of the selfish child
I want to be free and want to run wild
I want no yolk no chains on me
I want to be what I can be
I want to see without my eyes
I want to sore over an azure sky
I want no bronze or silver or gold
I want to be free from being told
I want the simple and I want the best
I want to be able to contest
I want nothing from you in a material sense
I want the future and not the past tense
I want assurance I want a dream
But most of all
I want an ice cream | |
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| i want you
Posted: 10/19/2007 2:31:20 PM | I'm so sorry...I JUST finished this piece this morning and saw your thread and felt compelled to toss mine out here...forgive me...*smile*
you look in my eyes deep,
seeking me out, searching ...
i want to know you,
show you who I am.
your hand reaches out,
softly stroking my face,
fingers running thru
fire lit hair.
i ache for your touch
watching you lean down,
tasting my mouth with
a smile brilliantly seductive,
relentlessly warm ... hungry.
your breath on my throat,
a warm sigh.
your kisses, flickering flames
branding me,
vibrating my senses
infusing convictions,
bursting realizations.
all my doubts laid to rest
as I reach out for you
whispering hotly,
softly ...
... i want you ... | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/19/2007 2:40:51 PM | The bureaucrat
You little turd
You son of a dog
You are a waste of space
And as dense as fog
The worst thing I could say to you
Is that you are a bureaucrat
And motherless too
You are a civil servant
You deserve my contempt
You are a government lackie
With neither parent
You tell me how to behave
You demand my taxes
You charge me rates
You ignore my faxes
You are full of shite
Your boss is an ass
You have no tact
And you are always crass
You hide behind anonimity
You won't answer the phone
If you were a dog
I wouldn't toss you a bone
You quote me rules and regulations
I hope you find eternal damnation
You are a simple creature
You cannot think
I care not for your stress
Or how much that your drink
You choose your profession
You work for the bosses
You never make profits
And always make losses
You fritter away my hard earned gain
Every year it is always the same
The slighest mistake I make on my forms
Like are a bunch of leeches
You try to make me conform
Original thinking is not your style
Without your offical guidance
You would last just a short while
You are unoriginal and have a brown tongue
I imagine you daily licking your bossses bum
You produce nothing except paper and files
I see you coming and I run a mile
You work for the revenue, you work in the schools
You work in the hospitals, but you never use tools
Your tool is your pencil, your pen and your computer
I see you each morning the daily commuter
You delight in your pension paid by my tax
You will retire early as I still break my back
You are always on sick leave a poor sickly soul
Then here I see you playing nine holes
The man who has no skills or talent or class
Is the man you will see carrying the civil service pass
You dictate how we live down to the nth degree
If you were on fire not on you would I pee
How I hate all bureaucracy and government minions
Who bleed us to death and yearly waste trillions
I have to go now for to an interview I must depart
To go and see the tax man and try and find his heart | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/19/2007 2:49:08 PM | Impure thoughts as Christie Moore says are not allowed!
I want poems that are clean and pure
That keep my mind off thoughts impure
I want verse to keep my mind active
Not sexy thoughts that can be distractive
I want lines that are good and wholesome
Not the words that get me going some
Oh good God things were much more simple
When I was 15 and had lots of pimples
Girls were things from another planet
Aaghh, but no, just wait.
Agh, yes then there was Janet! | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/20/2007 5:06:58 AM | The Walking Man
The walking man
Walking every day
I meet him always
Somewhere along the way
He's over eighty
He has partial sight
He is out walking
Day and night
With an old jacket
And his bright yellow vest
He slowly walks
Never seems to rest
His pace is slow
But steady and even
I wonder if he is coming
Or is he leaving
Summer, Autumn
Winter and then Spring
The walking man
Spreads his wings
His family may have left
He may be on his own
Alone he walks
Free from a mobile phone
He is oblivious
To the cold and snow
Along the lanes
Wandering he goes
With a white stick in hand
And his layers of clothes
No one knows
Where the walking man goes
I often wonder
If he owns a home
If that's the reason
The walking man roams
He goes at a dander
Not a spring in his gait
But then he's near eighty
And I don't think he's late
He is not in a rush
To get from A to B
I think that perhaps
He detours via D to Zee
The walking man
Keeps walking on
Stopping occassionally
Listening to bird song
I hope to see him
When next I run
Otherwise I fear
His end will have come | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/20/2007 5:17:37 AM | Speeling is my downfal
I cannot speel
Since the age of 3
It's a terribal vault
I know you al percieve
It's not much my valut
Its the edukational sistem
Well thats my few
But know won will listin
Me speelings poor
I cant get employid
My applicatins
Keep geting destoyid
What must eye do
To imporve my speeling
If I want to urn a view mor shillings
If I go back to skool
I can furthur my goals
I can learn to right
Then i can sell my sole
To the highest bider
I will secure my future
May be won day
I will be a techer
But wait know, thats knot for me
It was techers who taut me since I were 3
Its all the vault
The kinder garden techers
Its all there vault
I can't speel creturs, creaturs, critters, creatures.
Self Parady / parody - oh thank god for speel cheques | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/20/2007 5:28:46 AM | Wee Betty the Cleaner
Betty the cleaner
Drove me mad
She was so neat and tidy
But not at all bad
She dusted and cleaned
From morning until noon
Then she started all over
All to soon
She cleaned the steps
She cleaned the streets
If you walked in
She cleaned your feet
She hoovered the carpet
She washed the glass
One day I caught her
Vacuuming the grass
It was an illness
It was a disease
She could never sit still
Or be at ease
The comics were lifted
Sat neat on a pile
Everything in order
Everything on file
If you moved from the table
Your plate was whipped away
Scrubbed, washed and dried
Before you could say
Hey!! I have not finished
My chips are uneaten
If you opened you gob
Surely you would get beaten
You could eat your dinner
Of the bathroom floor
The brass was polished
On the entrance door
The beds were made
Whilst you still lay asleep
You had to stay silent
Not make a peep
A professional cleaner
Was my dear mother
She washed and scrubbed
Me and my brother
Our shoes were polished
Our teeth were cleaned
Our hair was groomed
Yes we were preened
Now I'm fifty
And living alone
I wonder if I
Should pick up the phone
Come over mum
I know that you are able
I need you once more
To clean up the table | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/20/2007 9:44:27 AM | Walking out of the nursing home today where three people and as i watched these words came to mind
Four generations:
Three generations walking in line
Grandmother, mother and daughter of mine
Four generations if I am included
So I muscle in not to be excluded
I could not help wondering if Grandmother lives on
Say for a few more years and not just in song
If my daughter gets pregnant and if a baby is born alive
With this here family the generations will be five | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/20/2007 10:04:58 AM | To John
John died
On the kitchen floor
He was my cousin
He is no more
He died a death
No man should die
He was only forty
Ready to fly
With a tube down his throat
Trying to get a breath
He died you will agree
A horrible death
His eyes wide with panic
As he realised his fate
His body trembling in anquish
Seeing the Grim Reaper wait
A premature end
To a life full of promise
To his only son
He'll be badly missed
After cries of help
He died in vain
When help arrived
Death was in his veins
Laying naked
On the kitchen floor
John lay asleep
Alive no more
The coke
May have killed him
We can't be sure
All that is relevant
Is for death there is no cure
John was a young man
Nearing forty one
And he leaves behind
An only son
The young lad
Walked behind the funeral car
He sat alone in the kitchen
When the men went to the bar
This young son of twelve
Orphaned too soon
He needed his dad
Who shone like the moon
His hero had gone
To eternal rest
Leaving the others behind
To do their best
To all of your here
Who like take dope
Please try to remember
Those left behind to cope
When you are dead and in your coffin
When you are no longer breathing and laughting
When the earth has long gone icy cold
Who have you left with no one to hold
Gamble with your own life
But not the lives of others
Think now of your own sons
Your sisters and brothers. | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/20/2007 2:37:48 PM | What If
What if it had never happened
What if I had stayed sane
What if I had resisted
What if I was to blame
What if my prayers were answered
What if my prayers were ignored
What if love's departed
What if I was restored
What if the end is over
What if more is still to come
What if sorrow is momentary
What if this dance is done
What if my tale is finished
What if this is the end
What if hope is vanquished
What if I can comprehend
What if our paths should cross
What if fates again collide
What if residual passions
What if they never died
What if I live on memories
What if my heart turns cold
What if love escapes me
What if as I grow old
April 2004 | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/20/2007 2:49:42 PM | Internet dating
Cast down, rejected, torn assunder
Blood and guts spilled no wonder
Once again no luck, no gain
Must try harder same refrain
Singles divorced, separated and parted
All have joined up, all broken hearted
Searching the ether for perhaps a friend
Prepared for rejection all over again
Computer dating has become all the rage
For us in our forties approaching old age
One last chance to change our fraternity
One more soul mate from here to eternity
Desperately hoping, searching each and every night
No one around, no one in sight
Then perchance one spots a smiling face
Heart a flutter and increasing in pace
How to make contact and still look cool
No one so old wants to look like a fool
Which approach stands the most chance of success
Be suave, be witty, compliment her dress
Waiting in hope for some vague recognition
For some inkling that one is at the starting position
Heart sinks low and confidence shattered
You pretend to yourself that it never mattered
You wonder and reflect and look back on your life
Occasionally you ask if you missed your wife
Then a contact arrives and says that you look cute
Then it's out tomorrow to buy a new suit
Jan 2007 | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/21/2007 3:57:04 AM | Judical Review
The judge has given direction
The jury is now out
I sit and wonder
How it will all turn out
I pleaded my case
I had my full say
I look for justice
I demand it today
I am not guilty
Stood here accussed
I turn to the law
Battered and brusied
I don't ask for mercy
For I'm an innocent man
I have been condemned
Dealt an unfair hand
I ask for equity
I want a fair hearing
And yet I look
And see you sternly glaring
Justice and wisdom
I expect from the law
The sort that I got
From my maw and paw
The wisdom of Solomon
I look from your mind
After all they say
Justice is not blind
The scales of justice
Are equally balanced
Justice to be done
Must be transparent
Make your judgement quickly
Don't keep me fretting
Nervously I wait
Wondering, regreting
I seek arbitration
A righteous decision
Consider the evidence
Weigh up with precision
Mediate and deliberate
And give me your reasons
Don't hang me to dry
I have commited no treason
Don't put the sackcloth
On top of your head
On condemn me to the hang man
To swing till I'm dead
I sit and silence
Wait to hear my fate
Come on darling
Give me a date!
Jez, whats a man got to do to get a date around here? | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/21/2007 11:18:44 AM | Girls ever been propositioned by an Investment Banker?
If I invest in you
Will you be true
Will my deposit bring a commission
If contributions I make
Will you later me forsake
In the matramonial war of atrition
What interest will I obtain
Will there be a gain
Will the interest be gross or net
I don't look for guarantees
Or equity freebees
Will the repayment schedule be met
What security for me
If I romance thee
Will the risk match my emotional gain
What if my liquidity dies
And my balance sheet lies
Will your intenton to me be the same
If I have no secure holdings
Or architectural mouldings
Will you return my attentions
If my petty cash is gone
And my acquistions are not strong
Please tell me what is your intention
Romance is not yet dead! | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/21/2007 11:28:59 AM | Do you hear voices?
I heard a voice
Above the rest
A voice that was unspoken
I heard this voice
Not once but thrice
And again I was awoken
It was not audible
To the ear
I now know that for certain
The voice I heard
In the dead of night
Was from a very important person
I listened in semi-slumber
To my inner voice berating
It told me that
I was wrong
It left me contemplating
Why was I wrong
I asked myself
Each morning as I awakened
A few moments later
The voice is gone
I arise and am forsaken | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/21/2007 1:05:10 PM | For those over 70, less you forget!
Tingling sensation
Body becomes aware
Skin tightens
Textures defined
Shapes starting to change
Hands clenched
Toes start to claw
Eyes wide close
Breathing deepens
Life comes rushing
With each tender touch
Blood starts pumping
Erect and hard
Responsive
In anticipation
Heart racing
Gasps of air
Mingle with
Slow purrs of satisfaction
Developing into deeped moans
Hands gentle
Holding firm
Fingers nimble
Dancing
Stroking
Teasing
Expert touch
From experienced teacher
Having the desired effect
Body and mind become one
Equally responding to sensations
Wanting to climax
Not wanting it to stop
Mixed emotions
Swelling arises
Fulyl textured and developed
Responding to concentric circles
Weighless fingers
Building to estacy
Hand firm but gentle
Moving harder then faster
Building still exploring
Wanton abandon
At the touch of lips
Then tongue
Finally fully erect
Nipple explodes | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/22/2007 10:00:29 AM | The Rights of Man (and for the politically correct - Woman)
The Rights of Man
Are not cast in stone
The reverse of Mose's commandments
Obligations long brought home
Everyone is aware of their individual rights
It's become a Paine in the ass
Somehow I sit and wonder
If it's really all about class
Rights are not
Freely given
Rights and promises
That history has driven
With such rights
Come responsibilities
They are imposed
On all people, you and me
The equation is simple
It is balanced and fair
Not skewed or distorted
By colour or hair
All men are born equal
Under the law of God
Be they Catholic
Be they Prod
Human Rights and
Equality of all peoples
Set standards and norms
Expected of equals
Rights acquired
Without obligations
Detract from us all
Lead to conflagrations
To be empowered
To have rights secured
All people on earth
Must have surely matured
Hindu, Muslim, Rasta
Or Sikh
You are no different
You are not unique
If your rights are
The same as mine
They we are together
Joined , entwined
Obligated
You must be compatable
Accept that and
You become responsible
Arguing for inalienable rights
Remember to responsibilites
To your brother, your mother
And also to me
If I am a human
Put on earth by God
I don't want cheated
By one posing as a fraud
You claim to have
The same rights as I
But then you kill
You murder, you lie
If you have the
Same acquired rights
You can't remove mine
By power or might
If that is your view
Then please contemplate
Your rights are obtained
By injustice and by hate | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/22/2007 2:05:56 PM | Politicians (Love them or HATE them)
George Bush was to far to the right
He and his dad were just busting for a fight
Many people thought that the was quite insane
When he invaded Iraq to kill Sadam Hussain
Bill Clinton was to the left of centre
He became Monica's favourite mentor
When she bent down to tie her shoe lace
Bill closed his eyes, prayed and said grace
I did not have sexual intercourse with that woman
I just produced sperm and could not stop it comin
I know all my countrymen agree I'm an honest broker
I was a real gentleman and did not try to choke her
Hilary was the dutiful wife of old Bill
But she never seemed to be quite trilled
Frustrated by never seeing an proper erection
She changed her profession and sought election
Guiliani's liberal claims appear to be true
He supports the NYPD the good old boys in blue
He supports Gays and will legalise abortion
As he seeks power he performs political contortions
Al Gore became a man painted green
His manison when lit up is something obscene
He travels the world clocks up millions of miles
We give him awards and he knowingly smiles
Margaret Thatcher was an industrial chemist
When elected she made the British a promise
She promised pain to eliminate industrial stagnation
She cocked-a-snoop at the European nations
John Major followed on from the Iron lady
Some said he was dull, others said he was slim shady
Many years later grey John's face turned red
When the nation found out who he took to bed
Tony Blair is moving towards cannonisation
Eulogised by many within the United Nations
He stood on his soap box and smiled and grinned
Unanimously he was declared the King of Spin
Gordon Brown is the son of a Scottish preacher
It is said that smiling is not his best feature
For too long now he has played second fiddle
Now referendums pose Gordon a problematic riddle
Why can't I get a blow job in the Presidential suite
With a girl on her knees and I on my feet
Is it because of my fear of rejection
That an intern can't give me a powerful erection
So here we have it the great and the good
Who are constantly telling us they are misunderstood
Charletons and Cheats, Spin Doctors and Liars
I would burn the whole damn lot on funeral pyres
Self seeking egotists obscessed with political gain
Do somersaults and cart wheels time and again
Never answering a straightforward question with a direct reply
They treat us like fools with their political lies
Don't be surprised how this political elite
Ignore and despise the ordinary man in the street
Look to see how they feather their own nest
Each one shouting that they are different from the rest
They claim union with the common man
They say sincerely that they are his biggest fan
Then they award themselves pay rises and huge pensions
And tax us all in every dimension
Hold them to account and make them squirm and be embarrassed
Those who seek office should always be harassed
Those who are elected are the servants of the electorate
Yet they are no different than some Soviet inspectorate
It is no wonder that democracy is in decay
When our politicians lie and cheat very day
Where do we find the honest minister
Who has nothing to hide and is who not sinister
The electorate are becoming disenfranchised
By greedy pigs who are feeding us continually more lies
Why vote for Congressmen who shag young boys
Then they laugh at us their political toys
Where have they now decided to next invade
How many more young men will they take to their grave
Their underhanded dealings and machinations
Is a grave injustice to the fathers of our nations
No honesty, integrity or high intellectual debate
No wonder Joe Public has become so irate
Next time you want to vote and you get your ballet
Vote for me and help feather my wallet | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/23/2007 10:58:09 AM | The Celebrity
I am a celebrity
I am a star
Adore and worship me
But only from afar
I have so much talent
I have so many gifts
And very very soon
I will have my next face lift
I am so good looking
I am adored by you all
I get invitations
To every charity ball
I love all the orphans
I love victims of landmines
I love being invited
To all the good times
I appear on the TV
I appear on the news
I tell all the papers
My important personal views
I have so much talent
I can dance and sing
I can go on to chat shows
And talk about any fing
I believe my own hype
I believe my PR
My mother once told me
I would go very far
I left school at 16
Cause I could not be buvvered
I knew anyway
That I would be discovered
I open supermarkets
I open new banks
I walk down red carpets
Everybody says thanks
They all want my signature
On their autograph books
I can really understand that
It's my incredibly good looks
I will not get any older
I will go and have detox
And later next week
I'll have a course of botox
I dress in designer costumes
From my head to my toes
When the camera turns to me
I strike a fine pose
I have fulfilled my ambition
To be a star of the screen
I can go to all the parties
Get drunk and act obsecene
I am a role model
I am an icon to the young
They don't have to study
Just go out and have fun
I can belittle common people
I can bash up my maids
I have all my own people
Who are now called my aides
I can smoke marajuna
I can snort the odd line
No matter I have money
I can pay the silly fine
I can drink the best of brandy
From the best places in town
I then ring the media
To tell them I'm around
I start to panic
If my photo isn't in the press
Or if I am out walking
And my hair is a mess
I want to be in the glossies
But I demand privacy too
I want so many luxuries
But I don't want to be like you
I don't want to work
Forty hours every week
People take notice and lsiten
When I stand up and speak
I love being a celebrity
I'm well known everywhere
My fans all love me
They tell me they care
It's fun being famous
To be recognised in the street
Oh I am so delighted
I am one of the elite
I appear on the chat shows
Big Brother has courted me
I will sell my soul
How much is the fee?
I don't care much for art
Or for science or philosophy
I'm a well know celebrity
I care only about me
I'm the centre of attention
I don't share my stage
Don't ever question me
Or I will fly off in a rage
When I start to fade
from the silver screen
I can make up stories
I can also act obscene
I can say I was beaten
Molested by my old dead dad
My mother was a drunk
All my family were all bad
I can rubbish my partner
I can tell of my sordid affairs
For to be a celebrity
My soul I must bare.
Who said the only good celebrity is a dead one?! | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/24/2007 11:13:00 AM | Another rant, so of we go.
Culture of Claim
Look not to the ancient cultures of Greece and Rome
Look to a new culture which is much closer to home
This culture is one of avarice and greed
It is a culture which many individuals seek to feed
Over the last few decades we have witnessed a culture of claim
One that means no one is ever responsible or ever to blame
Personal responsibilty has now clearly ended
Worst of all no one seems to be very offended
Individuals seek out and look to determine
Some other personality to fund their misfortune
Should one person trip or occassion a loss
Don't blame yourself, simply blame the boss
So for all you poor loss souls
A claim may be your pot of gold
If doctors being fallible make a mistake
Count up quickly how much you can make
If you car is slightly brushed by another
Hold you arms, cry and call for your mother
Sure are not all the professionals all insured
So just claim if your illness can't be cured
No matter if your liver is shot by too much booze
Take an action against the medics you cannot loose
A lawyer will help you after finishing chasing the ambulance
He will be inventive and help you both to obtain opulance
It's not as if you are being corrupt
The insurer or the government won't go bankrupt
Why does one so imperfect expect perfection of others
Why expect higher standards of your sisters and brothers
It is me who pays my taxes and premiums
To pay for all your unfortunate conundrums
You defraud not just the corporate organisations
But all us individuals who make financial donations
Why do you not wish to become responisble
Why do you make me also culpable
Your actions are no less lying and cheating
Just because it big business you happen to be fleecing
When you walk on the pavement do your eyes not see
The overhanging branch from the distinctive tree
Why do those who subscribe to this culture
Simply remind me of circuling vultures
As you spend my hard earned money which supports your claim
I wonder why you do not hang your head in shame
Note that as the work ethic diminishes
The reliance on negligence increasingly rises
As vicarious liability goes expotential
More men become unemployable
Supported by those in the noble legal profession
These last few years have wittnessed a rising procession
Of false claims and bewildering legal actions
As malingers and cheats look for financial satisfaction
No win no claims is like a free invitation
To make false claims from every situation
The legal pimps in their designer suits
Work on the principle that it is all about loot
They are all about equitable redistribution
From us to them whenever it suits them
It appears that men are no longer real men
Like children and chickens they run and pretend
That they have suffered unneedlessly and occassioned loss
Then they take legal actions against their neighbours or boss
(An ode to all those who have happened to make FALSE claims) | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/24/2007 12:16:57 PM | The narcissist
I'm an narcissist
I'm always right
If you don't agree
With me you will fight
I'm always right
I'm never mistaken
I'm simply misunderstood
Always forsaken
I am the very best
There has ever been
I should have been on
The TV screen
I know better
Than every other man
If I anyone can do it
I know that I can
I can do anything
That other men can do
But I can do it better
Yes better than you
I dream and scheme
And live in a world of my making
The world's my oyster
It's all for the taking
I suffer no fools
I suffer no weaklings
I loved being adored
Like a story book King
Whats wrong with
Being narcisistic
There's no other feeling
It's simply fantastic
Don't listen to those who say
That narcissism
Is too closely related
To phantasism
To be at the top
At the top of the table
Knowing to oneself
That I'm the most able
I stand on my pedestal
Look down on the rest
Yes I know better
I am the very best
Minions and underlings
Can't comprehend
I do not need them
To be my friend
I am going places
You can come too
But just understand
I'm better than you
If I have no money
It's a temporary matter
It's not my fault
I blame my father
It's not that I lie
Or manipulate
But for me you must
Always congratulate
I was born this way
From the age of ten
I've been fantastic
Since I can comprehend
I have delusions
Or realities
You must choose
It matters not
As a narcissist
I can't lose
I am of to make my next big buck
I'm a narcisist so I won't need luck | |
|
| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/25/2007 4:21:38 AM | Peace
Peace to Northern Ireland has come
No more bombs and no more guns
The Provos have put their guns to rest
Paisley has removed his bullet proof vest
The boys have gotten together and climbed into bed
We all hope that we are not mislaid
The uneasy peace has lasted a while
As Paisley and McGuinness laugh and smile
The paramilitaries are supposed to be off the streets
They runs their businesses and fiddle balance sheets
They are allowed to do their wheeling and dealing
The price we pay for the time needed for healing
The violence is never too far away
Guns and bullets can materialise in a day
The Government overlooks the paramilitary crooks
Who sell dicey petrol and cook the books
The police can't catch the rackateering bosses
Who own foreign property and never make losses
The builders still have to pay for protection
To ensure that their are no delays to erections
Woe betide any man or any family
Who runs up against any ex paramilitary
Just ask the family of young Paul Quinn
Murdered by scum, the cardinal sin
Robert McCartney's devoted female relations
Took their case to many different nations
Mr Raymond McCord faced the paramilitaries down
Continually they tried to run him out of town
Ex terrorists from both sides now make decisions
When ordinary folk face government derision
The price of peace has been hard to bare
Watching terrorists who now pretend to care
The votes of the many counted for so much less
When compared with the guns that will always impress
Violence had reaped dividends in the place that I live
The mafia is in charge please dear God forgive | |
|
| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/25/2007 4:49:36 AM | i do so hope this time the peace "sticks"
have had many cousins thrice removed thrown into Long Kesh.
we always sent money for the long trip to Belfast
to deliver the ciggies and help pay the barrister.
though i have never been blessed to go over
my father quite often did 30 years ago or more
he once made a pilgrimage to B. Devlin's home
and for his troubles, got stopped on the road
travelling down a lane enringed by thick hedges
soldiers popped out machine guns were leveled
my mother near shite right there in her pants
while my da thought his PBA card would mean pass
after that trip my poor da found a bit later
the FBI thought him a terrorist traitor!!!
Our mail it was opened and all packages searched
broke my da's cop heart to be seen as a perp.
note: PBA card - Policeman's Benevolent Association
purp: american slang for perpetrator/criminal
love the lilt in your verse, it makes me smile. surely all us Irish are bards in the soul | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/25/2007 9:26:16 AM | Aoibheann
You have still got the gift of the gab after obviously many years living in that den of inequity. There are still some small pockets of civilisation left in Ireland, but I'm still looking for them. In the meantime as my thread says I intend to vent my hatred and love in equal amounts. For now the angry head is on.
Bird | |
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| Songs of Hate and Love
Posted: 10/25/2007 10:04:33 AM | Not to be read by anyone who is more than two or three stone over their usual weight, you have been warned.
Modern society is awash with food, food is too easily and to cheaply available, individuals no longer eat to satisfy hunger and as a result western society is going down the tubes?! Discuss! Write a 10000 word disertation giving academic references, bibliography and footnotes
Obesity
Obesity it's not so very unsurprising
Is for ever increasing and continually rising
I wonder and ponder and reason why
When I hear the obese call out and cry
It's not my fault I hear them say
I just like cakes, several times a day
I can't help it the problem is in the genes
My dad was fat and it's not obscene
You misunderstand me and label me names
I'm not responsible you should feel ashamed
Well just who is the cause of all your greed
Where does the money come to sustain your feed?
Why do you not take personal responsibility
Why are you innocent and why should I feel guilty?
My kids are awakened at the break of dawn
They have no say they are their father's pawns
Into the swimming pool they do their lengths
To build up their stamina and to give them strength
It's an arduous and gruelling programme
Designed to help to keep dowen the kilogrammes
It does however not have to be this way
A walk in the park will suffice each day
What goes in may never come out
If you sit on the sofa and stuff your snout
If you eat massive dinners and sweets and snacks
Don't be surprised if your heart gets attacked
Everyone now knows how to retain their figure
A few brisk walks and some hard rigour
To all you fat fathers and chubby mothers
What are you doing to your sons and daughters?
Do you not care that your are killing them soon
As they pile on the weight and look like a balloon
Who is responsible for the fruit of your loins
Get them outside and start to move your groins
It's not my fault you repeatidly say
I try to diet almost every single day
It's societys fault I am an unwilling victim
I just see ice creams and want to lick them
I'm not responsible for this medical condition
Don't call me fat or you will go to prison
It seems we have to be thoughtful so as not to hurt
The 35 stone slob who has become so inert
But he sits on his ass each and every day
Whilst we pay our taxes, huge reductions in pay
To pay for their treatment to pay for their food
If you don't have an income I think that your should
Your actions alone have removed your from society
Therefore I care little for your growing anixety
There are elderly and disabled who have been given much less
They give life a go and go out and impress
To the fat businessman who looks like a fool
When he drops his trousers and can't see his tool
Don't moan, don't make excuses, don't cry, don't whine
Your business lunches are responsible and also the wine
To the fat momma lounging watching morning TV
When you sit at home, it has a cost also to me
The cost of the health service is rising beyond belief
The working man is slaughtered and has a right to grief
I'm not sorry, I hurt myself when I train
Everyday running in sun, snow and rain
My pain and my dedication give me a right to accuse
You who are obese and by your negligence self abuse
The above is clearly not relevant to those who are disabled or have relevant medical conditions like Thyroid problems who given the opportunity would not carry excess weight but suffer through an unjust act of fate. | |
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