Raindrops
Raindrops dancing on the dance floor 

Crying tears on the window panes

Grey storm clouds gather overhead

Putting happiness into the shade

The people in this world today

The warmongers and paymasters 

Chasing tragedy and poverty

Creating many more disasters

They claim it’s for the common good

And that without them there’d be failure
But for poverty stricken nations

They’re far from being their saviour
It’s obvious from where they fight

That oil and money not people’s plight

Is theirs by choice and not birthright 

Is there no end to this circus in sight

  Ho! Ho! Ho!
I wake up with a fright
From a nightmare in the night
My mind has taken flight
It is an awful sight
I see Santa fly away
With my money in his sleigh
With rudolf prancing gaily out of sight
If only I had not listened to the priests
Out on the missions
I would not now be sitting here in such a state
            Jpoet7

 Her Crimson lips caress

 the gallery to impress

Her sculptured hair 

her sultry eyes. 

Her perfume

My mind it races

For her embraces

My pulse it beats

Our lips to meet

Then I awake

It’s morning.

      Jpoet7

      
You’ve heard of course of the Easter rising

That in itself is not all that surprising

The businessmen and the politicians

See ways of profiting from the exhibition
Do they care I wonder about Pearse or Ceannt

Or the middle classes meeting their rent

With Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael, labour and Shin Fein

All fighting their corner some kudos for to gain
All of the tax payers feeling the pain

Clery’s workers soaking in the rain

Political pensions and the great gravy train

The two million pension from I F A coffers

As the small farmers struggle, stagger and totter
One thing this I know is that wherever I will go

For Easter festivities whether in sun or in snow

The price of restaurants and hotels won’t be low

 The Homeless will still sleep out in the street

And Many, many more will have little to eat
Politicians will parade, their chests they will beat

 In An election year they’ll make sure you will meet

You’ll see many faces you’ve never seen before

Asking for your number one and promising more

You’ll probably say yes and then you’ll ignore
So I think you can see that whatever we do

We’ll still have a government that hasn’t a clue

So sit back on the couch and break open a bottle

For no matter what you do they’ll sill be talking twaddle

     Jpoet7

It’s strange how quickly we get old

One minute quick and then we’re slow

Not really the way I want to go

 It’s going to happen that I know
In the meantime I must make sure

That what I eat and drink is pure

And if I do some light exercise

I may live longer I may survive
So let’s now make a resolution 

And change our bodies constitution

And rid ourselves of food pollution

I think that may be a good solution
Or maybe yoga I am reliably told

If only my creaking arms could enfold

Or if my mind would let me try it

With people watching I must deny it
I’ll end up in a Zimmer frame

Shuffle along not know my name

I’m still the same person you should know

Don’t just pass me by please say hello

   Jpoet7

I hear the wind I hear it loud

It blows along the fleeting cloud

It’s canopy like a storm filled shroud
A deluge that will cause destruction

It’s water torrents in production

Could alter natures great construction
We can but only wait and see

How strong the wind and rain will be

And drown the earth and bend the tree

 I’m proud of him, he did not cry

At times he makes me angry
But then I think, he’s just a boy

Full of mischief and full of joy
His questions will begin with why 

Then I realise that he’s not shy
When I was eight I only knew

Of Cowboys, Indians and thank you

     

Life goes on
 slums, bums, pigeons squawk, people walk,ignoring,sleeping bags, burnt out fags,discarded needles,homeless peoples,notions of grandeur,amid squalor, wake up, stand up, shut up, get a job,taxes paid,your beds made, sleep in it,off the street, into hostels, out of sight,the poor apostle,all Gods children, that’s a laugh,somethings funny, you’ve got money, remember me,In your prayers, who gives a sh…, I don’t care.

Let the madness continue
There’s sadness at the top table now

And All the fat cats heads do bow
Concerned at their big salaries

And the farmers at the creameries
Concerned about their margins dropping

While at the same time fat cats propping
The time has come to root them out

But be careful there’s many more about
They’re all in Brussels at the ball

It’s Ireland after all

         Jpoet7