Why I'm different

I write with broken pen
in Moleskin pads.
I always have and
prob’ly always will.
People stare at Me and laugh
Because books me than more
to me than man
- because I sit over pints With
trees cut short In tender youth
So I can dream on pulp And
stain my life with ink.

Hold to Oden

Another school left in the past,
Another boy without a class.
One more midnight train ride,
Onemore night my mother cried
Herself to sleep only to be awoken
By the sight of me cold soaked
(and a small bit shaken.)

And if I think of my old school Pencey
An English teacher gone back to whence he
Came a swanky apartment on the upper west side
Then the night I left an how I cried,
I wonder what could only be if I made through the year
If there’s one thing certain,
One thing clear.
I know I wouldn’t be here.

The world and I

If the world and i were one
i'd tip my cap to the desert sand
i would scorch my skin beneath the sun
if the world and i were one.

If i could be the sea and sky
id babble blow and hypnotise
id ebb and flow and soar so high
if i could be the sea and sky

if i were the star above
i would not shine for bliss or love
or for the ones without the latter
if i were the star above.

When i think of endless possibility
that now lays crushed in front of me
the world, the star, the sky and sea
seem far too big for only me.

To show you what you mean to me
to him, to her, and everyone
i'd plunge my cap in freezing sea
if the world and i were one.

To each his own, To us our town.

Dublin Town
I have walked the streets
Where young men died in vain
I have climbed the great Dublin hills
And looked down on everyone.
Seen a city still striving towards the light
- People still dying to make ends meet.
Where to this day your paper reads
A world of class division. Yet still
Between the smokestacks and canals
No Right Rose Tree ever
Bade her beauty bloom.


A Song Can Do So Much
Now lost to concrete dim
There rings a song in times gone grim.
A song of faith for doubtful dreamers
Dreading darkness, drinking doubles
Lost in life’s complexities.
Gone the days of beauty bare
Nor path, nor light to lead us there
Gone the nights of wanton lust
Buried deep without a care.
Now on this never ending path
A group of dreamers stand
Their dreams long worn, near gone
The darkness cut by a singer’s song.

Pilgrimage Most Holy
Pilgrimage most holy
For the spirits least divine,
We smoke the grass and drink the mud
And take our chips with wine.

So take a glass and raise it high
Lets make a toast a cheer
- to us, to them, and festivals my dear






A Dream for the Future
I want to be shot in the nip
And be buried in a bowler hat
With my brazen head to heaven
And my bollocks to himself.

I want to ride the sunshine
And felate the passing cars,
To rape the star-crossed lovers
And whistle like the wind.

I want to be a winner and
wear medals on my toes,
to be the morning golden
and the amber hue of stars

I wish I was an icecap
Or a grain of desert sand
I want to salt the sea
To grow the wheat.

To swim to fly and pollinate.

I want to be your saviour
Then wind the world again
I want to save mankind
And wind the world again.