Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in January 2013.
Whether it is today or yesterday
or one day next week
tomorrow never comes
How often do we say on Monday
See you tomorrow
Tomorrow if indeed we survive
Monday, is Tuesday
So tomorrow never comes
It rained on Wednesday
and all thru Thursday
Today Friday the sun shone a little
but still, tomorrow never comes
A love that's fresh
and new like spring buds
could last until next week
or even a fortnight's time
but tomorrow will never come
I say that I will do such and such today
and even at night sometimes
I will kneel and pray
giving thanks for the day
without a thought for tomorrow
because tomorrow never comes
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Showing posts with label Aindre Reece-sheerin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aindre Reece-sheerin. Show all posts
Waiting for Rhyme - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in February 2012
Waiting for Rhyme
Taking my time
Really feeling fine
Mushing the thyme
Pulling the pau pau spine
Looking at the people standing in line
All patiently reading the sign
Cashier asking if they’re feeling fine
Or just simply waiting for a rhyme.
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Waiting for Rhyme
Taking my time
Really feeling fine
Mushing the thyme
Pulling the pau pau spine
Looking at the people standing in line
All patiently reading the sign
Cashier asking if they’re feeling fine
Or just simply waiting for a rhyme.
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
A Cordon Of Love - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Let me not show my Dishonesty
or worse still portray my Brute stupidity as something else
Forgive my Cowardess, my Inability to speak out and up for you
Don’t let the Light show all my Flaws and leave me Compromised
Instead let me love in freedom and not find in the other
my beloved, all that I know exists within me
with exception my Cordon of love.
Allow me to throw round you and protect you
Should I locate with you the perfection I seek
and surely know that does not exist within me
but look with love to nature and nurture,
that which I need to survive
Will my innate laziness, finally give up
and allow me to fight for what I believe in;
this zone of positivity, the circle of protection,
this triangle, where all points lead to us
It is within my union with my beloved
that I feel fulfilled, that I am whole.
This cordon of love that I have thrown
creates the circle, the zone, the triangle
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
or worse still portray my Brute stupidity as something else
Forgive my Cowardess, my Inability to speak out and up for you
Don’t let the Light show all my Flaws and leave me Compromised
Instead let me love in freedom and not find in the other
my beloved, all that I know exists within me
with exception my Cordon of love.
Allow me to throw round you and protect you
Should I locate with you the perfection I seek
and surely know that does not exist within me
but look with love to nature and nurture,
that which I need to survive
Will my innate laziness, finally give up
and allow me to fight for what I believe in;
this zone of positivity, the circle of protection,
this triangle, where all points lead to us
It is within my union with my beloved
that I feel fulfilled, that I am whole.
This cordon of love that I have thrown
creates the circle, the zone, the triangle
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
GAZA Palestine ~ July 24th 2014 - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
It matters perhaps in insignificance, that this was once your land or, that it became mine but now you want it back.
It matters to some even less, that you are prepared not only to take it bit by bit - but to kill and maim
It matters so little that you see my children as terrorists and legitimate targets as they, like me, fight for freedom from oppression
It matters of such little consequence that many, many countries and forms of media see me and mine as the aggressors in this
It matters like I do not exist that I have little or no access to even the basics of life like water and sanitation, let alone fresh food
It matters not on the world stage that you are doing to me what the Nazis and the 3rd Reich did to your ancestors and indeed even perhaps some of you in my living memory
It Matters, Though, that you Laugh and, that you Applaud and you Justify the shredding of my babies and,
It Matters that you wish to Erase the future of my bloodline and my Race
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
It matters to some even less, that you are prepared not only to take it bit by bit - but to kill and maim
It matters so little that you see my children as terrorists and legitimate targets as they, like me, fight for freedom from oppression
It matters of such little consequence that many, many countries and forms of media see me and mine as the aggressors in this
It matters like I do not exist that I have little or no access to even the basics of life like water and sanitation, let alone fresh food
It matters not on the world stage that you are doing to me what the Nazis and the 3rd Reich did to your ancestors and indeed even perhaps some of you in my living memory
It Matters, Though, that you Laugh and, that you Applaud and you Justify the shredding of my babies and,
It Matters that you wish to Erase the future of my bloodline and my Race
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Refuge of the Song Thrushes - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Here we lay wings splayed, no longer Gossamer wings for we are laid flat side by side as once did we glide, and soar skywards like a glissando our speckles of brown, and
orange and gold, and the songs, oh the songs we sang of old, stories never to be told, the things we have seen, the places we have been
The sights below, hues of red blue and green.
Our refuge from the storm became our tomb.
The shrill of the wind was our Marche Funèbre
and huddled tightly, together in the foliage of the old Cypresses Leylandi, as she tried but in
vain, to hold and to hold again and again and again, but alas did she too succumb to the ravages of the storm and without malice or will, crush us together as when in life together
we sang but no more our unique song will be heard, no more will our colours flash, the worms now escaping and will continue to be the earth’s ploughs but as sure as there is a
spring, new Song Thrushes will sit on new branches and Sing and Sing and Sing
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
orange and gold, and the songs, oh the songs we sang of old, stories never to be told, the things we have seen, the places we have been
The sights below, hues of red blue and green.
Our refuge from the storm became our tomb.
The shrill of the wind was our Marche Funèbre
and huddled tightly, together in the foliage of the old Cypresses Leylandi, as she tried but in
vain, to hold and to hold again and again and again, but alas did she too succumb to the ravages of the storm and without malice or will, crush us together as when in life together
we sang but no more our unique song will be heard, no more will our colours flash, the worms now escaping and will continue to be the earth’s ploughs but as sure as there is a
spring, new Song Thrushes will sit on new branches and Sing and Sing and Sing
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
27 to 32 lines - So what am I to do? - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Is there enough space to write an Haiku
Or maybe even a sonnet to you
But a piece of prose might possibly do
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
I could write a synopsis of my visit to the Zoo
But people don’t like Zoos and think their time is through
Yet some people think the work they carry out is valuable too
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
I could write about my visit to see barney Magrew
No, no. That just simply will not do
I’d much rather write of love, of me and of you
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
there is so much I can do
it will focus my mind and help me to find
a way out of the mire, stay out of the stew
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
could I write something easy to follow
something that ‘almost’ anyone could swallow
and not find myself back on the Brew
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
I’m nearly at the end, how will I contend
When I get to the end and no more time to spend
Wondering if, more serious thoughts will ensue
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
Last stanza, I am almost there So just as well I am always sitting in my wheelchair Staring at this screen, now seems obscene – What am I to do
I am getting into a right two and eight - That means I only managed 28
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Or maybe even a sonnet to you
But a piece of prose might possibly do
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
I could write a synopsis of my visit to the Zoo
But people don’t like Zoos and think their time is through
Yet some people think the work they carry out is valuable too
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
I could write about my visit to see barney Magrew
No, no. That just simply will not do
I’d much rather write of love, of me and of you
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
there is so much I can do
it will focus my mind and help me to find
a way out of the mire, stay out of the stew
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
could I write something easy to follow
something that ‘almost’ anyone could swallow
and not find myself back on the Brew
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
I’m nearly at the end, how will I contend
When I get to the end and no more time to spend
Wondering if, more serious thoughts will ensue
27 to 32 lines so what am I to do
Last stanza, I am almost there So just as well I am always sitting in my wheelchair Staring at this screen, now seems obscene – What am I to do
I am getting into a right two and eight - That means I only managed 28
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
There Are No Words - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
There are no words for a love won, cherished and lost
For the emptiness, I feel inside, in my head, in my routine
And God and you know how much I hated, routine
But I always felt safe, warm and needed when you were there
There are no words, for the shorter shopping list
The missed off treats for those picnics in front of the fire when the rains came instead of the planned, sunshine
And not watching our favourite programme on the BBC
There are no words for the pregnant pauses now in conversations, when friends accidentally mention your name
And then freeze, not wanting to hurt me, but not realizing that I need to hear your name, not just in my head or when I call you in the night
There are no words, for I cannot express, how much I miss you
There are no words, to describe the intensity, the anger I feel
There are no words, to share what I would do to have one more hour
There are no words, There are no words, there are, no, words
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
For Anna Heim
For the emptiness, I feel inside, in my head, in my routine
And God and you know how much I hated, routine
But I always felt safe, warm and needed when you were there
There are no words, for the shorter shopping list
The missed off treats for those picnics in front of the fire when the rains came instead of the planned, sunshine
And not watching our favourite programme on the BBC
There are no words for the pregnant pauses now in conversations, when friends accidentally mention your name
And then freeze, not wanting to hurt me, but not realizing that I need to hear your name, not just in my head or when I call you in the night
There are no words, for I cannot express, how much I miss you
There are no words, to describe the intensity, the anger I feel
There are no words, to share what I would do to have one more hour
There are no words, There are no words, there are, no, words
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
For Anna Heim
He Scares Me So - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
The Angel.
the visit.
the annunciation
the humility.
the acceptance.
the discussion.
the listening.
the quiet understanding.
the cousin.
the 2nd visit.
the child leaping for joy in the womb.
the King.
the first born.
the passover.
the upheaval.
the dream.
the journey.
the ass.
the arrival.
the rejection.
the lowly place.
the ox and the ass.
the Angel's message in the fields.
the rush.
the birth.
the homage.
the Wise men.
the 2nd journey.
the gifts.
the gold, frankincense and myrrh.
the 2nd dream.
the other route home.
the carpenter.
the rebuke of Mary.
the presentation in the Temple.
the Pharisees.
the talks.
the doubters.
the missing years.
the tempters.
the desert.
the baptising.
the healed
the grateful
the test.
the journey on the ass.
the salutations.
the accusations.
the mistrust.
the kiss.
the betrayal.
the denial.
the attack.
the healing.
the resignation.
the dream of Pilate's wife.
the presentation before Pilate.
the sending on to Herod.
the return to Pilate.
the offer of exchange.
the findings.
the washing of hands
the flogging.
the fibres in the air.
the tearing flesh.
the crowning of thorns.
the casting of lots.
the spitting.
the bearing of wood
the fall.
the fall.
the fall.
the conscription.
the woman.
the cloth.
the crowds.
the hill.
the centurion.
the thieves.
the nailing.
the third hour.
the darkness
the thirst.
the plea.
the storm.
the piercing.
the forgiveness.
the temple.
the smell.
the breaking of bones.
the removal.
the tomb.
the enrobing.
the other centurion.
the stone.
the silence.....
the third day.
the light.
the rolling.
the witness.
the resurrection.
the upper room.
the visitation.
the Holy Spirit.
the covenant.
the realisation.
the understanding.
the tongues of fire.
the doubting.
the wounds.
the hands.
the acceptance.
the ascension.
the man.
the giver.
the saviour.
The God.
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
the visit.
the annunciation
the humility.
the acceptance.
the discussion.
the listening.
the quiet understanding.
the cousin.
the 2nd visit.
the child leaping for joy in the womb.
the King.
the first born.
the passover.
the upheaval.
the dream.
the journey.
the ass.
the arrival.
the rejection.
the lowly place.
the ox and the ass.
the Angel's message in the fields.
the rush.
the birth.
the homage.
the Wise men.
the 2nd journey.
the gifts.
the gold, frankincense and myrrh.
the 2nd dream.
the other route home.
the carpenter.
the rebuke of Mary.
the presentation in the Temple.
the Pharisees.
the talks.
the doubters.
the missing years.
the tempters.
the desert.
the baptising.
the healed
the grateful
the test.
the journey on the ass.
the salutations.
the accusations.
the mistrust.
the kiss.
the betrayal.
the denial.
the attack.
the healing.
the resignation.
the dream of Pilate's wife.
the presentation before Pilate.
the sending on to Herod.
the return to Pilate.
the offer of exchange.
the findings.
the washing of hands
the flogging.
the fibres in the air.
the tearing flesh.
the crowning of thorns.
the casting of lots.
the spitting.
the bearing of wood
the fall.
the fall.
the fall.
the conscription.
the woman.
the cloth.
the crowds.
the hill.
the centurion.
the thieves.
the nailing.
the third hour.
the darkness
the thirst.
the plea.
the storm.
the piercing.
the forgiveness.
the temple.
the smell.
the breaking of bones.
the removal.
the tomb.
the enrobing.
the other centurion.
the stone.
the silence.....
the third day.
the light.
the rolling.
the witness.
the resurrection.
the upper room.
the visitation.
the Holy Spirit.
the covenant.
the realisation.
the understanding.
the tongues of fire.
the doubting.
the wounds.
the hands.
the acceptance.
the ascension.
the man.
the giver.
the saviour.
The God.
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
I Thought I Did What's Right - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
I Thought I Did What's Right
not knowing the reality
not seeing the yellow green
and the Sunlight flickering on the leaves
The colours in your hair
soon though I would learn
you'd be no longer there
how long would I dream
for a dreamer I have been
as I drift from stream to stream
roads and highways pass me by
its almost any hour that I can sit and sigh
I remember distinctly
once being afraid to crush you
were I to hold you too tightly
a vision you were then
but that was when I still believed in romance
wishing desperately there might be a chance
I could come back under any form
but you suggested, that would make it difficult
for you as you had informed all
that we were no more
you asked me to kiss you warmly
while a letter was already on its way
with little more than just to say
stay away, just stay away
like a fool, I agreed and lost it all
no love, no home but worst of all
I did not have the children
nor the spunk to fight for them
worse still to come
they believe daddy abandoned them
now not just love has been lost
but even the basics of care and
respect have all worn away
no-one could ever count this cost
a love once won
a love once adored
once held in the highest esteem
and with every heart beat, even with
leaves yellow and green
like the Autumn
are now but
lost
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
not knowing the reality
not seeing the yellow green
and the Sunlight flickering on the leaves
The colours in your hair
soon though I would learn
you'd be no longer there
how long would I dream
for a dreamer I have been
as I drift from stream to stream
roads and highways pass me by
its almost any hour that I can sit and sigh
I remember distinctly
once being afraid to crush you
were I to hold you too tightly
a vision you were then
but that was when I still believed in romance
wishing desperately there might be a chance
I could come back under any form
but you suggested, that would make it difficult
for you as you had informed all
that we were no more
you asked me to kiss you warmly
while a letter was already on its way
with little more than just to say
stay away, just stay away
like a fool, I agreed and lost it all
no love, no home but worst of all
I did not have the children
nor the spunk to fight for them
worse still to come
they believe daddy abandoned them
now not just love has been lost
but even the basics of care and
respect have all worn away
no-one could ever count this cost
a love once won
a love once adored
once held in the highest esteem
and with every heart beat, even with
leaves yellow and green
like the Autumn
are now but
lost
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Colours Of The mind - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
What are the colours of the mind
what are the shades when one is being kind
how bright are the hues, when reflecting of you
a myriad, I think when they are of me and of you
explore then your thoughts
and correlate
can you see now the rainbow
the sparkle inside
how it echoes and fuses
with things tangible and surreal
look now and see this fountain
as it rises and fall and spirals
the purples, and greens,
the yellows and blues
mixes of reds and whites
even black
now fushias and golds
with browns and silvers
see them radiate
and stir and wash together
collide, and split
and bounce
with wonderment
watch as they infuse one with the other
like memories they embrace
and enfold us
the comfort and confront us
provoke and evoke within us
the longings,
the hopes,
the dreams
memories are Colours of the mind
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
what are the shades when one is being kind
how bright are the hues, when reflecting of you
a myriad, I think when they are of me and of you
explore then your thoughts
and correlate
can you see now the rainbow
the sparkle inside
how it echoes and fuses
with things tangible and surreal
look now and see this fountain
as it rises and fall and spirals
the purples, and greens,
the yellows and blues
mixes of reds and whites
even black
now fushias and golds
with browns and silvers
see them radiate
and stir and wash together
collide, and split
and bounce
with wonderment
watch as they infuse one with the other
like memories they embrace
and enfold us
the comfort and confront us
provoke and evoke within us
the longings,
the hopes,
the dreams
memories are Colours of the mind
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
And So Again I Dream - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Looking out wistfully,
forbidding the darkness to preclude
hearing the strings not just of heart
the ensemble lifting us gently like a leaf on a breeze
from time to time a rustle
no not from the trees
a rustle of memories
that rise and fall like fire flies
Soaring and drifting
from one scene to another
and so again, and so again
I dream
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
forbidding the darkness to preclude
hearing the strings not just of heart
the ensemble lifting us gently like a leaf on a breeze
from time to time a rustle
no not from the trees
a rustle of memories
that rise and fall like fire flies
Soaring and drifting
from one scene to another
and so again, and so again
I dream
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Isn't It Strange - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Isn't it strange
That feeling inside
like hunger, only yearning
stretching out like the vacant tide
These empty moments when thoughts drift away
not really understanding how it happened this way
the longing, the hoping, the praying still
that one day you might actually call
but knowing, that you never will
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
That feeling inside
like hunger, only yearning
stretching out like the vacant tide
These empty moments when thoughts drift away
not really understanding how it happened this way
the longing, the hoping, the praying still
that one day you might actually call
but knowing, that you never will
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
But Surely You Can't Dance - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
But surely you can't dance
Firstly, don't call me shirley
dance, of course I can dance
in my mind, this broken, old body takes flight
still spinning and turning and lifting higher than ever before
physically, I can spin my chair like no-one else can
I rhumba like a goodun - tango takes a little practice
but man can I jive and two girls at once too
many times have I been stared at for just
getting up on the floor as soon as the music starts
you see, I am only restricted in my chair
by my ambitions. luckily they are varied and vast
being held back since the accident? I knew it wouldn't last
so yes, I can dance with Shirley or anyone
who will take centre spot with me
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Firstly, don't call me shirley
dance, of course I can dance
in my mind, this broken, old body takes flight
still spinning and turning and lifting higher than ever before
physically, I can spin my chair like no-one else can
I rhumba like a goodun - tango takes a little practice
but man can I jive and two girls at once too
many times have I been stared at for just
getting up on the floor as soon as the music starts
you see, I am only restricted in my chair
by my ambitions. luckily they are varied and vast
being held back since the accident? I knew it wouldn't last
so yes, I can dance with Shirley or anyone
who will take centre spot with me
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
The Great War - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Aindre added this note to his poem which is why it has been put on an 'adult page'; "Please note this is not for the faint of heart or weak stomach."
The Great War - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Great Uncle Patrick fought in the Great War
wounded very early on he told stories
of what went on with the Black and Tans
and how badly they treated Irish people
all the while his war wound would surface during
every other sentence as he had shrapnel
still inside his lungs and even on
an August day he sat by a roaring fire
roll of toilet paper in one hand and
gesticulating expressively with the other
then up it would come from the depths
Cough and Spit he called them
the two Flemish comedians
and into the paper he would spit mid sentence
calmly continuing the conversation, folding neatly as you like
leaving room for one more go and once the paper was sufficiently weighted
to the back of the fire he flicked it with a deftness unrivalled
and sit there and hiss and sizzle until it dried and then burned
hacccccaahhhh gurrrraaaach (spit)
over and over this would happen without any
formality, just routine and telling jokes all the time
until to bed he would go and then the real pantomime began
The house was always immaculate
dark brown stained doors stained glass front window
tiny rooms but with a huge kitchen
and always some scone or cake on the go
I remember being asked if I would stay over one night
and throughout the night he would call out Oh
Jesus, I'm done, I'm going Mary
Mary being his sister and my Great Aunt
A woman of kindliness unsurpassed a woman of substance who
wore bright blue bloomers and proud of them showing them on the Sea Saw and equally proud of being called Miss
never married, but a dancer supreme with numerous suitors
She shared the home and put up with the daily task of listening to many stories over and over and watching as we (I did anyway)
split out sides laughing at the eccentric actions
that only our family would take in our stride
he told many a near knuckle joke and so popular
was he that any Wake (Irish Funeral) and first
on the invite would he be
A hairdresser by trade and sported a fedora
drove a Volkswagen Fastback
drove it until Great Aunt Mary took his licence away
we would again laugh saying he kept death off the
roads by spending most of his time driving on the pavements
Sitting in his rocking chair with his checked blanket
and boiled sweets, a good and gentle man
God fearing and on that one night only
that I stayed, over and over he called
'it won't be long now Mary
oh Jesus, I'm dying
Oh God help me'
and I called out, 'I wish he'd hurry up
so we can all get some sleep'
He survived for many years after that
and I remember he offered to pay me
for staying the night and I was upset
but really I should have paid him for the entertainment
I can still hear him struggling to breathe and bringing up
phlegm laden cough after cough
I do not ever remember him complaining
and can even smell still the turf on the fire and hear the sizzle
of the gunk he had no choice but to bring up day in day out
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
The Great War - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Great Uncle Patrick fought in the Great War
wounded very early on he told stories
of what went on with the Black and Tans
and how badly they treated Irish people
all the while his war wound would surface during
every other sentence as he had shrapnel
still inside his lungs and even on
an August day he sat by a roaring fire
roll of toilet paper in one hand and
gesticulating expressively with the other
then up it would come from the depths
Cough and Spit he called them
the two Flemish comedians
and into the paper he would spit mid sentence
calmly continuing the conversation, folding neatly as you like
leaving room for one more go and once the paper was sufficiently weighted
to the back of the fire he flicked it with a deftness unrivalled
and sit there and hiss and sizzle until it dried and then burned
hacccccaahhhh gurrrraaaach (spit)
over and over this would happen without any
formality, just routine and telling jokes all the time
until to bed he would go and then the real pantomime began
The house was always immaculate
dark brown stained doors stained glass front window
tiny rooms but with a huge kitchen
and always some scone or cake on the go
I remember being asked if I would stay over one night
and throughout the night he would call out Oh
Jesus, I'm done, I'm going Mary
Mary being his sister and my Great Aunt
A woman of kindliness unsurpassed a woman of substance who
wore bright blue bloomers and proud of them showing them on the Sea Saw and equally proud of being called Miss
never married, but a dancer supreme with numerous suitors
She shared the home and put up with the daily task of listening to many stories over and over and watching as we (I did anyway)
split out sides laughing at the eccentric actions
that only our family would take in our stride
he told many a near knuckle joke and so popular
was he that any Wake (Irish Funeral) and first
on the invite would he be
A hairdresser by trade and sported a fedora
drove a Volkswagen Fastback
drove it until Great Aunt Mary took his licence away
we would again laugh saying he kept death off the
roads by spending most of his time driving on the pavements
Sitting in his rocking chair with his checked blanket
and boiled sweets, a good and gentle man
God fearing and on that one night only
that I stayed, over and over he called
'it won't be long now Mary
oh Jesus, I'm dying
Oh God help me'
and I called out, 'I wish he'd hurry up
so we can all get some sleep'
He survived for many years after that
and I remember he offered to pay me
for staying the night and I was upset
but really I should have paid him for the entertainment
I can still hear him struggling to breathe and bringing up
phlegm laden cough after cough
I do not ever remember him complaining
and can even smell still the turf on the fire and hear the sizzle
of the gunk he had no choice but to bring up day in day out
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Etude - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Like an Etude it starts off easy
taking time like a climax of timpani
building and building
bouncing, dropping, lifting, reverberating
gentle, crashes - then more loudly still
always in rhythm, always in rhyme
single notes, then pairs,
quavering, crocheting some with mimim effort
arpeggios and broken chords
diminuendos, ritardandos and accelerandos until
cloud burst of Cymbals
cacophony of sound now like an operatic aria
the stillness has been shattered but
and just as suddenly a
moment of silence returns until
the birds chirp and sing with gai abandon
those previous sounds welcomed and embraced as
the rain appeases the tired earth
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
taking time like a climax of timpani
building and building
bouncing, dropping, lifting, reverberating
gentle, crashes - then more loudly still
always in rhythm, always in rhyme
single notes, then pairs,
quavering, crocheting some with mimim effort
arpeggios and broken chords
diminuendos, ritardandos and accelerandos until
cloud burst of Cymbals
cacophony of sound now like an operatic aria
the stillness has been shattered but
and just as suddenly a
moment of silence returns until
the birds chirp and sing with gai abandon
those previous sounds welcomed and embraced as
the rain appeases the tired earth
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Jesus Must Have Heard Him By Now - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Tantum ergo Sacramentum
or Sweet Heart of Jesus
Night after night I would sing
as I lay in my bed with no-one
except my four brothers
Yes I'm a catholic and proud of that too
not to mention that time old taboo
betrayal and hurt the hiding the lying
but we can with a will repair and heal
the burning of incense
the constant whisper of the old ones
prayers echoing round the Church and its walls
watching the wax on candle falls
falls like frozen creamy rivers
held there in time
singing out louder
but with reason and rhyme
practising at home, in school and at Church
though we called it Chapel een though a Cathedral it was
Warmth of candle light in the gloom
the rustle of cassocks
my envy at never being chosen
so the better I would sing
Of His glory and praise
with lyricism and love in each phrase
until that day
one day
night in fact when Michael shouts
'mammy, will ye tell him to stop singing'
'Why son'? came the reply
'because Jesus must have heard him by now'
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
or Sweet Heart of Jesus
Night after night I would sing
as I lay in my bed with no-one
except my four brothers
Yes I'm a catholic and proud of that too
not to mention that time old taboo
betrayal and hurt the hiding the lying
but we can with a will repair and heal
the burning of incense
the constant whisper of the old ones
prayers echoing round the Church and its walls
watching the wax on candle falls
falls like frozen creamy rivers
held there in time
singing out louder
but with reason and rhyme
practising at home, in school and at Church
though we called it Chapel een though a Cathedral it was
Warmth of candle light in the gloom
the rustle of cassocks
my envy at never being chosen
so the better I would sing
Of His glory and praise
with lyricism and love in each phrase
until that day
one day
night in fact when Michael shouts
'mammy, will ye tell him to stop singing'
'Why son'? came the reply
'because Jesus must have heard him by now'
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
AWOL - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
4 and 6 or thereabouts
time creates a haze and also creates doubts
there never were any fights and few shouts
but lots of silence and many pouts
4 and 6 few questions asked
one scream, just one scream
'I don't want to go back there
not without you
and yet, in time and distance not far
a coward was found and well above par
to give you up and without a fight
the regrets every day but no-one has right
nor dominion, of one over other
the hurt, the leaving
not communicating or not knowing how
the feeling of utter desperation
but being so much older now
the tears, the pain come back again and again
can't go back, would if we could
wonder if we should
knowing now all that has happened
the distain and perhaps rightly so
but is all this justifiably so
is there even contempt
Prayers asked, now in contemplation knowing full well,
we are our own masters and mistresses too
can we ever move forward, the likes of me and you
would you really change the past and me as well
4 and 6 in old money
may have been a price too much to pay
as I live, love and breathe
with a broken heart each day
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
time creates a haze and also creates doubts
there never were any fights and few shouts
but lots of silence and many pouts
4 and 6 few questions asked
one scream, just one scream
'I don't want to go back there
not without you
and yet, in time and distance not far
a coward was found and well above par
to give you up and without a fight
the regrets every day but no-one has right
nor dominion, of one over other
the hurt, the leaving
not communicating or not knowing how
the feeling of utter desperation
but being so much older now
the tears, the pain come back again and again
can't go back, would if we could
wonder if we should
knowing now all that has happened
the distain and perhaps rightly so
but is all this justifiably so
is there even contempt
Prayers asked, now in contemplation knowing full well,
we are our own masters and mistresses too
can we ever move forward, the likes of me and you
would you really change the past and me as well
4 and 6 in old money
may have been a price too much to pay
as I live, love and breathe
with a broken heart each day
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
My Dreams Are Of You - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
May I ask you, beseech you, plead even,
Step lightly forward
What I have lain before you are my dreams
Dreams of you, dreams of me
Working and staying in the light
The light that love instills in us all
Like when I hear you call me softly
reach out and touch me, not always in presence
Lightly then, take the way forward
for my dreams are yours as I give them freely
like I would a most delicate, perfumed, coloured rose
and watch with wonderment as you take the scent to your nose
These though are not eggshells
for we work together and separately as one
thinking of our love, our respect and admiration too
these are in fact like petals, parts of me and of you
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Step lightly forward
What I have lain before you are my dreams
Dreams of you, dreams of me
Working and staying in the light
The light that love instills in us all
Like when I hear you call me softly
reach out and touch me, not always in presence
Lightly then, take the way forward
for my dreams are yours as I give them freely
like I would a most delicate, perfumed, coloured rose
and watch with wonderment as you take the scent to your nose
These though are not eggshells
for we work together and separately as one
thinking of our love, our respect and admiration too
these are in fact like petals, parts of me and of you
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Tomorrow Never Comes - Aindre Reece-sheerin
Whether it is today or yesterday
or one day next week
tomorrow never comes
How often do we say on Monday
See you tomorrow
Tomorrow if indeed we survive
Monday, is Tuesday
So tomorrow never comes
It rained on Wednesday
and all thru Thursday
Today Friday the sun shone a little
but still, tomorrow never comes
A love that's fresh
and new like spring buds
could last until next week
or even a fortnight's time
but tomorrow will never come
I say that I will do such and such today
and even at night sometimes
I will kneel and pray
giving thanks for the day
without a thought for tomorrow
because tomorrow never comes
Aindre Reece-sheerin
or one day next week
tomorrow never comes
How often do we say on Monday
See you tomorrow
Tomorrow if indeed we survive
Monday, is Tuesday
So tomorrow never comes
It rained on Wednesday
and all thru Thursday
Today Friday the sun shone a little
but still, tomorrow never comes
A love that's fresh
and new like spring buds
could last until next week
or even a fortnight's time
but tomorrow will never come
I say that I will do such and such today
and even at night sometimes
I will kneel and pray
giving thanks for the day
without a thought for tomorrow
because tomorrow never comes
Aindre Reece-sheerin
Speaking in the QUIETUDE - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Spontaneous verse inspired by my dear friend Darren Betts on a wet Sunday Morning in the Channel Islands.
Speaking in the QUIETUDE - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Silence and Stillness, Speak to me in volumes
Volumes I cannot quantify nor would I try
The softness of the Autumn rain
Seems to ease my worries and strain
The gentle Mumble of distant thunder
No cars, No tractors; Just nature herself
Speaking in the quietude
Caring for the Planet
These silences and Stillness move me
Carry me off to a place only few can visit
Only some have the insight to open the door
Only some can see the way to forevermore
There is the odd flash of lightening now
Like a symphony, the trees rustle and the brambles bend
Now comes the downpour, and gentle tapping of doors
As the air moves from room to room
A translucent light as opposed to darkness or gloom
Birds hold their shelter, Cats find a shed
The roses though, breathe as if they have room
The season nearly over but still with some blossoms red
I look within as the clouds now wiz past
I look forward to tomorrow
Knowing the rain will not last
Bigger flashes now as to crescendo we go
Timpani and Boom call from out of the gloom
Lighting up even the darkest of rooms
As the rain pours and someone in bed still gently snores
The cacophony of rain, and thunder and light
Have helped me look inward to find that chink of light
To realise, my cares and my woes, will one day melt away, as will all the spring snows.
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Speaking in the QUIETUDE - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
Silence and Stillness, Speak to me in volumes
Volumes I cannot quantify nor would I try
The softness of the Autumn rain
Seems to ease my worries and strain
The gentle Mumble of distant thunder
No cars, No tractors; Just nature herself
Speaking in the quietude
Caring for the Planet
These silences and Stillness move me
Carry me off to a place only few can visit
Only some have the insight to open the door
Only some can see the way to forevermore
There is the odd flash of lightening now
Like a symphony, the trees rustle and the brambles bend
Now comes the downpour, and gentle tapping of doors
As the air moves from room to room
A translucent light as opposed to darkness or gloom
Birds hold their shelter, Cats find a shed
The roses though, breathe as if they have room
The season nearly over but still with some blossoms red
I look within as the clouds now wiz past
I look forward to tomorrow
Knowing the rain will not last
Bigger flashes now as to crescendo we go
Timpani and Boom call from out of the gloom
Lighting up even the darkest of rooms
As the rain pours and someone in bed still gently snores
The cacophony of rain, and thunder and light
Have helped me look inward to find that chink of light
To realise, my cares and my woes, will one day melt away, as will all the spring snows.
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
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