POETRY
GOBSHITES DAY
Oh where to now my Raging
Pointing Anger Scorns? at slant
of pen on Tally Follies Known?
The Great Listener kissed the
youthful flesh that beckons Fate,
who were Betrayed by Accepting Hands
of Spawning Guiding Elders.
As eye to eye and heart to heart
of toe to toe to his Alluring Spin
they flock. In Denial and Indifferent
to Fragmented OATHS along their trails
they tread, or our ailing Democracy
upon our trolley bed.
M.P.Walsh
June 2007
DANGER ZONE
No judge swaying
gavel, or judas
Governing verb, nor
Bias Pages of
Pompous Obtuse Ink.
Or scollop grasping
Birthright Claim,
beneath the Broadhaven
gimlet pillaged
Western shore.
Would spawn the
Precious Flesh, or
lay a weary head beneath
the Bellanaboy moon.
Or tread on Trust
on Glengad beach, in a
Rossport Mayo dawn.
M.P.Walsh
August 2008
BETRAYAL
Oh omit the Words that Passion
Evoke, for Liberty, Old Eireann
Alone against an Empire Spoke.
Oh omit the Spectre of Valour
that intent a Murderous Hand,
that cast a Grieving Sorrow to
Free Old Ireland.
Oh omit the Hearts that Loved
this land,. oh Hearts drew Death
in Easter Stand, guided, lead
pierced aim, by Foreign Command.
Oh omit my Seething Dark that
Enrages Within, and may the
“Treacherous Govern Cast,
no shameful Loss, not Win.
M.P.Walsh
September 2009
