General Chat

“It's not that I want you to go, it's just that I don't want you to stay."

(China Sorrows - Derek Landy, Mortal Coil.)

"Translations"

Beautiful words caressed the air that evening
As I sat there entranced
Fragile creatures at the mercy of an outside force
Yet they had language to fall upon
A Gaelic tongue, Ovid Homer, Virgil too
A repose in time
That tries to thwart the sword that pierces the soul
The soul of their lives
Their existence
I was with them that night !!

Hooked - the pressures of youth.

(A cautionary tale composed by a 12 year-old at our local school).

I am the kid who puts on a show;
Game for anything - never says ‘No’.

I am the kid who loves a good joke;
The ‘lad’, the ‘man’, the really good bloke.
I am the kid who wants to be cool;
Pressured to fight, to break every rule.
I am the kid who must be accepted;
Does what he’s told in case he’s rejected.

I am the kid so desperate to grow;
I am the kid who cannot say ‘no’.

I’m wanted & needed; the feeling’s so good;
My mates are hard; we’re so feared in the hood.
It started with weed; a bit of a smoke;
And ended with heroin, smack & some coke.
A knife for protection & then came a gun;
And life became different - no longer fun.

I am the kid who must go with the flow;
I am the kid too scared to say ‘No’.

I am the kid dependent on dope;
I’ll do anything for drugs - a life with no hope.
I steal, I fight, I do what I’m told.
My mates push me on - they’re cool & I’m bold.
And now that I’m hooked, along comes the day;
I must prove my worth & pay my way.

I was the kid, stoned out of his head;
Whose really cool mates just left him for dead.

I was the kid who did it for show;
Game for anything - just couldn’t say ‘No’.

In Memory Of My Mother
(by Patrick Kavanagh 1904-1967).

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily

Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday--
You meet me and you say:
'Don't forget to see about the cattle--'
Among your earthiest words the angels stray.

And I think of you walking along a headland
Of green oats in June,
So full of repose, so rich with life--
And I see us meeting at the end of a town

On a fair day by accident, after
The bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.

O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us -- eternally.

'Intellectual knowledge was scorned in feudal times'.

Spanish eyes, Re "If questioning would make us wise"By Christopher Brennan.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Il0JjMZWnQ

My all time Favorite is "Somewhere over the Rainbow" sung by Judy Garland,

However Loved this Singer :Connie Talbot.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MndLRdPsuJE

I'm over 80 , I can Dream can't I ?.

Elizabeth. Nice Poems.

Bill in Oz .