Burning Tar

© Lachertenok | Dreamstime.com

JPS Lotus. I liked the car,
Gold on black, medium tar.
So at 19, I had a drag on it,
But frankly, it tasted like shit.
If I had a million to give,
I’d remind that many how to live.
Cash and tobacco for influence,
Health lobbyists bullied into defence.
A formula for our lives or those jobs?
Coffins carried out amidst tear-felt sobs.
Marlboro Man looking cool on his steed,
But from his wheelchair, his aching heart bleeds.
Your Majesty’s government, I owe you a new spin,
Your addiction to money has my filthy old habit packed in!

JP Morris
No.1 Embassy Estates
Lambert City
United Tastes

31st December 1997

Mi Amor

© Vladi Samodarov | Dreamstime.com

Candles of harmony flicker in evening’s hue,
Libran blue, how I feel about you.
Slow burning serenity over troubled water.
Your values I can neither question nor falter.

A slow start if I recall,
Into emptiness we wouldn’t fall.
Soft Spanish eyes, so deep and brown,
In that special place, I can now be found.

Relationships had to be endured,
So when I found you, I could be assured.
On first sight of you, my chin hit the floor!
To save face, I was half-ignored,
But in your presence, I was fully absorbed.

How I hungered for your first kiss,
In my youth, you were sorely missed.
Now they fall upon me like a shower,
And buds of joy burst into flower.

Cloud nine,
That giggly heart of mine.
Loneliness, that swine.
Now having fun is fine,
Your sweet love, so divine.

15th March 1998

Collecting CD’s

Collecting CDs


1996  A.D.

Another collection…TV, spotlight, discs, an odd slipper, an overcoat.
Memories cannot be left behind, as I credit my fund of knowledge;
An account that lingers in red;
A Queen of Hearts will move me into black,
Only for Hell’s joker to saunter through and squander my hand.
Bound for another town and another job, amassing the stop gaps.
More gaps than chapters, but each gap builds the book they call ‘life’,
furnishing a long chronicle to sit amongst the sleeping masses;
they fill libraries as we do graveyards.

2010 A.D.

In the New Age, future generations surf over our life stories.
Go on…activate CD; resurrect me.
The disc was first collected by me.
A virtual photo album snapshots civilisations past,
Its idiosyncrasies provide a muse for the curious surferette,
Where ordinary legends can be launched from PC-TV.
Transmit them to your French pen pal over the ‘Net.

2100 A.D.

The begrudgers of history will find no disc space out in the future,
archived in dormant libraries on the I-way’s death row,
sentenced to a lifetime in downtown Alpha-Purgatory.
Hey look! There’s grandfather, father, daughter and son!
Related first by blood and then by inherited CD.
Technology ensures their lifetimes will run continually.

2200 A.D.

No more Anno Domini, what She giveth, She taketh away.
She comes to collect; an experiment; overgrown.
All human records are commandeered; a new Project beckons.
Will our remains ever be re-sown?
Or will our DNA mapping direct us to the great library in the sky?
Perhaps the map was divinely encrypted.
Unable to disengage from it’s self-destructive course.
Banished by its architect-in-chief,
Plunging us into an infinite equation beyond our best
Scientific and intuitive concept.

El inF?

January 1996

Irish road signs explained!

The road sign below is a pleasant reminder that the best way to find your way around Ireland is to…..well…err….ignore the road signs! Reminded me of something me mum once said which was based on her experience of growing up in rural north Donegal. And when I say rural, I mean rural. When a stranger asks you how to get from here to there, the response always being the same, wherever you are, whoever you are:

“Well sir/madam…you go straight down that road and that will take you wherever you want to get to.” Now this may sound funny, unhelpful or even spiritual depending on where you are coming from, or in this case, going to. But I can assure you dear reader; the directions were uttered with 100 per cent sincerity!

Anyone who can guess correctly where this particular signpost is situated wins a FREE compass and a 12 month subscription to ‘Unhelpful Irish erections daily’. Closing date to be announced so watch this space folks.

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WTF?! Is this a WiFi wet spot???

I have a confession; it’s about a dog!

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Online Confession #1

Confessor

“Bless me Father for I have sinned. It’s a long time since my last confession and the first one on this here web site. I hope you don’t mind but I just couldn’t be arsed to go down to church.”

Father Ted

“Why haven’t you accepted my Friend request? Anyway, please carry on…”

Confessor

“Oh yes; my confession. It’s a very grave matter altogether Father and one I fear may be beyond divine redemption. “

Father Ted

“I’m all ears.”

Confessor

“Well Father, I have indulged gratuitously on a certain cartoon character since, well, when I was a mere whippersnapper.  I’m sorry I haven’t mentioned this before but I’ve only just started to come to terms with this canine obsession, thanks to some therapy.”

Father Ted

“How was that?”

Confessor

“What, the exorbitant cost of therapy, or the matter of my obsession?”

Pregnant pause in the confessional proceedings.

“Are you there Father?    Father?”

Father Ted

“Did you get my friend request?” asks the slightly disgruntled confidant.

Confessor

“I did Father.”

Father Ted

“Continue my son.”

Confessor

“I love Scooby Doo. Actually.”

Father Ted

“Did you say Scooby Doo? That dopey but lovable sleuth from the 1970’s?”

Confessor

“Yes I did sir. From back in the day.”

Father Ted

Sharp intake of breath.

“That’s going to cost you at least one Our Father and two Hail Mary’s”.

Confessor

“Shite.”

Father Ted

“Make that three Hail Mary’s. ”

Confessor

“Where was I?”

Father Ted

“In the 1970’s.”

Confessor

“Oh yes. Scooby. Well Father, it’s like this. It’s not like I love Scooby the way I love my children, or my family, or my beloved Luton Town Football Club, or X Factor, blogging, stuff like that..”

Father Ted

“…and the Church.”

Confessor

“Of course Father. And the Holy Apostolic Church.”

Father Ted

“Ok, I’ve just downgraded your penance to One Our Father and two Hail Mary’s. Continue my son.”

Confessor

“It’s nothing weird Father. I mean it’s not like this other blogger I met recently. She confessed to meeting a man on a blind date who enjoyed sleeping with his dog in the buff. Because that is just wrong Father, on so many levels.”

Father Ted

“Have you met my dog, Francisco?”

Confessor

“Is that the Jack Russell Terrier Father? The one that once peed on Mrs Brady’s handbag.”

Father Ted

“We don’t talk about Mrs Brady. I’ll hear no mention of that woman’s name here. Not in this virtual confessional. Not in my parish!”

The atmosphere clears.

“Anyway, Francisco has now got his own Facebook page. He’s got more friends than me! Loads of muts from across the parish and some much further afield. Even His Holiness the Pope!”

Confessor

“Jeyz!! Christ on a bike!!!”

Father Ted

“Blasphemy boy! You’re up to one Our Father and five Hail Mary’s. Careful now.”

Confessor

“Where was I?”

Father Ted

“The serious matter of sleeping naked with dogs. Down with that sort of thing now.”

Confessor

“Oh yes Father. But that was just to show how innocent my love was for Scooby.”

Father Ted

“Go on boy.” In a lightly patronising sort of way.

Confessor

“No Father, it’s more than that. One of the great things about being a dad is you get to relive some of your childhood. And for me, one of the highlights of my school day was not just eating my friends unfinished lunches on the bus home, not just flirting with Tara (because I would be arrested if I tried to do that now) …but it was arriving home in time for the next episode. And you know what Father, I love seeing my children now huddled together on the sofa and gleefully watching Scooby Doo in the same way I used to. There’s something comforting about that. It’s like the meeting of generations sharing a common interest. Do you know what I mean Father.”

Father Ted

“Yes my son. That’s a surprisingly deep level of insight given the subject matter.  G’wan now.”

Confessor

“Sure, I know Scooby is not everyone’s mug of cappuccino with sprinkles on the top.”

Father Ted

“Mine’s a mug of PG tea. Which reminds me…..”

“Mrs Brady!!!!!! Can you put the fecking kettle on now.”

Confessor

“Like I was saying Father. There were the ridiculously predictable plots, Fred’s infatuation for Daphne…not to mention Velma’s shocking lack of dress sense.”

Father Ted

“Don’t get me started.” Nodding in sympathy.

Confessor

“And I guess if it were real life, there would be concerns about Shaggy’s unkempt appearance, his strange swagger. And some might say that Scooby sets a bad example to kids what with his overeating and all. I mean, Scooby snacks aren’t exactly very healthy. Some parents today might say that leads to obesity.”

Father Ted

“I think you might be taking it too seriously son. It’s a cartoon.”

Confessor

“But you know Father. That’s exactly why I do love Scooby and his friends. It’s the knowledge and comfort of a happy ending at a time when the media pursue the unhappy endings with their half empty glasses in tow. And the whole paranoia around stranger danger. When you were growing up, a stranger was a friend you had not yet met. Things have changed Father.”

Father Ted

“You may be onto something there. I’m thinking one Our Father will do you.”

Confessor

“But I’ll tell you something Father. I think it has helped me come to terms with those classic lines, like when the bad guy would say ‘And I would have done it too if it weren’t for those meddling kids.’ Or when Shaggy says ‘Yikes!’ when he spots a very strangely attired monster. Or when Daphne shrieks ‘Jeepies!’.  And do you know what else gets inside you and kind of stays with you Father? It’s that light jolly music that accompanies the whole piece. I wish my life was as jolly and frivolous as that!”

Father Ted

“For sure.”

Confessor

“Every child needs a super hero. A super Scooby and a super mama and dadda. But who says that should end when you ‘grow up’? Who says, Father?”

Father Ted

“That’s surprisingly profound my son. But you now have kids of your own and I have my parish and my loyal friend, Francisco”.

“Mrs Brady!!!!! Is that tea ready yet?! I’m dying of thirst so I am!”

Confessor

“Well I didn’t have that many super heroes as a kid. I didn’t really like to idolise anything or anyone too much. But as a parent, it’s good to have these positive references to your childhood. Especially when you look back and see how hard life may have been for those who loved you.”

Father Ted

“Have you been on match.com son?”

Confessor

“Can’t say I have. Is that online dating Father?!”

Father Ted

“Well I recommend you get on there my son, a handsome fella like yourself with your beautiful daughters. What are you waiting for? Get out there and enjoy yourself!”

Confessor

“Maybe you’re right Father. But where does that leave me with my penance?”

Father Ted

“I’ve been giving that some thought. After some careful consideration…and seeing how much you love children and animals, real and imaginary; I’m going to waive that Our Father. You know, I sometimes wonder if any of the original voice actors are still with us son. Or whether they passed away into obscurity, or perhaps, eventually, into paradise…into Scooby heaven. You know something? Even if there is no God, or no heaven, just those simple jolly thoughts put a smile on an old man’s face and a Shaggy style swagger in my step. God bless you my son. Go in Scooby peace.”

Father Ted and the Confessor

“In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen”

Confessor

He shuts down the Parish portal.

And he logs on to Facebook.

Friend Request from Fr Ted – ACCEPTED.

6th October, 2013

My Perfect Fantasy

A loving heart searches through a meaningful gaze,
To security bound in love, not doubt.
Too many killing fields have been played,
There exist barren plains and a generation lost.
Futile backgrounds ground lovers into dust,
More than anything I want to earn your love and trust.

In love, please accept the power of your self,
Allowing love to flow freely between us.
I yearn happiness in so much haste,
But your love I seek not to waste.
Don’t leave me in mid-sentence,
Abandoned on an icy-cold seabed.

In search of peace and tranquil waters,
I feel warmth in your colourful sails.
A loving woman I so want to deserve,
In you, I see one I’d happily serve.
So don’t lose me in the rocky ravines,
Just lead me down a road to our dreams.

Fear not those families at war, negative in tone,
Doubt neither yourself, or the one who willingly seeks.
Protect your values, and hold fast to your dreams,
Amidst the gossiping swell, I don’t want you ‘alone’.
Leave skeletons buried, banished in history’s place,
For in our friendship, much love has already grown.

In all things I wish to build,
A foundation steadfast and true.
Through drudgery I wish not to descend.
To lavish you with kind love is what I desire.
By hurting you, part of me pretends,
The best for you in life is what I aspire.

In finding each other, our love will surpass,
Sentencing at a stroke those foolish endeavours.
Set your fears free and let love take its course,
Your beautiful warmth, I’ll cherish forever.
So let love fulfil its journey,
And be swept away by this magical force.

Let dreams weave their way around us,
And merrily dance the hillside.
Fostering a love that can care and nourish,
Disposing those voices that have lied.
From a den of despair,
To a nest we can replenish.

Don’t spurn me on this fruitful quest,
For its all my love I’d like to bequest.
Avoid feelings of self-doubt,
And have faith in your being.
Through this I hope you accept me wholly,
And give our love true meaning.

For mere stepping stones I warily tread,
They infect my heart with seeds of dread.
Offer me a stronger bridge to follow,
And a book that can be comfortably read.
In these chapters our love can wallow,
To the place of your dreams I’d like to be lead.

17th February 1997

China Doll

Delicate and pure
Externally demure.

Idolised her figure
Through punishing rigour.

Obsessed with her allure,
And the search for a ‘cure’.

Worshipped her visage,
A deception, a mirage.

Superficial and sweet,
The fantasy is complete.

Ever so patronising,
The pursuit agonising.

The love of an image,
To add to my baggage.

Amidst depths of pain,
Light bursts through the rain.

A china doll for sure.

Dublin 3rd June 1999

Tart Area Rapid Transport (TART)

Saw an Irish tart,
Located at a Dublin DART station.
Shouted abuse,
And a curse of damnation.
Penance for cheap titillation.

If her arse stuck out anymore,
A daytime eclipse would surely obscure!
Even Molly Mallone would have blushed.
But alas, this ego had all but been crushed.

10th October 2000

DART train.
DART train

Castaway

Restlessness without bounds
echoing across ocean sound.
A ship on turbulent waters
without pilot, mate or anchor.
The heart does hanker;
its engine stutters and falters.

Merging with a vivid horizon
fuelled by its seductive tones.
Territory, coloured by each season
drowned by the clamour of reason.
Understanding the complex
will only confound and perplex.

Depths unchartered;
A mission over the seas
provides depth and meaning.
And a pilot, mate and anchor
on the ocean’s cut and thrust.
Leads me towards
peace, love and trust.

2nd December, 2001