'Darcy and O'Mara' is a novel by Arthur Cronin.
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Sunday, September 19, 2010


A Life of Comedy

My greatest wish was that each day
  Would leave me with a lighter load,
And I'd avoid events that held
  The sense that something would explode,

And that a life of comedy
  Would come to me and make me laugh,
To bring a tingling buzz as good
  As those supplied by Van de Graaff.

It seemed my wish was granted when
  I won a highly-valued prize,
A cruise across enchanted seas
  And days as light as butterflies

That flutter into twilit skies
  And grace the views of setting suns,
Far away from relatives
  Whose greatest skill is getting guns

And pointing them at animals
  And leaving walls with massive holes,
Missing out on free fresh meat
  They'd hoped to cook in casseroles.

The bar on board the ship was home
  To sombre people dressed in black,
Men espousing misery
  While drinking wine and rare cognac.

They revelled in advising me
  To yield to our impending doom,
A looming ending soon to start,
  A constant night about to bloom,

With meagre light illuminating
  Waiting rooms for tours of yards,
Estates of tombs where garden gnomes
  Wear uniforms of prison guards,

And these eternal building sites
  Would never be the welcome host
To any type of building work
  Performed by man or beast or ghost.

I had to hear these cheerless folk
  Explain their bleak philosophy.
Some would speak in technical
  Expressions that were lost on me.

Some of them used simple words
  With ample time between each one.
They'd reminisce on days with books
  That reached the peak of teenage fun.

For some a light and easy read
  Would be a book by Wittgenstein.
Some said life's a jigsaw and
  You'll laugh when all the bits combine.

The final scene will be revealed.
  You'll see that it's a sinking ship.
You'll never find a fuller stop
  To punctuate a stately trip.

Late one night I had to laugh
  Despite the sense of shock I felt.
A massive ice berg shook our ship.
  It wandered over seas with stealth.

The men who had been hoping for
  An end to life to come their way
Were all in floods of tears and praying
  Loudly to extend their stay.

They didn't need to be afraid.
  Our boat would win its bout with ease.
It beat the berg and kept its course.
  It ruled the waves of icy seas.

The quality of ice bergs now
  Is not as high as in the past.
Because of global warming they
  Are not designed and built to last.

I smile when I mull over all
  The harm to Father Nature's wife,
And future cataclysms that
  Might terminate all human life.

Very Slight Stories

Henry Seaward-Shannon

The East Cork Patents Office

The Tree and the Horse


Words are my favourite noises

Previous Poems

Poems from 2004
Poems from 2005



Gizmo's (Non)sense

Pretty Cunning

The Dossing Times


Cruiskeen Eile
Kevin Myers' blog (sorry, Colonel Kevin Myers).

The Chancer

Sinead Gleeson



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A Walk in the Rain

 | poetry from Ireland

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