I have been writing short stories and poetry for many years. In 1974 I had my play, ‘The Thunder and the Singing’, successfully performed in Trench House publishing it in 1997. My volume of poetry, ‘Walk of Life’, was published in 1994 and my very successful book of short stories, ‘The Hanky Ball’, was published in 2000, I followed this up in 2001 with another anthology of short stories entitled ‘The Wart Well’.

Falls Road Stories

In 2005 I began a series of 32 page booklets with short stories in them and called them, Falls Road Stories and they have been very successful in the shops where I have placed them on the Falls Road in Belfast. At the present time, February 2007 I have published fifteen of them. They have been sent to America, Canada, New Zealand and Australia by people here in Belfast to their relatives and the feedback is tremendous. Some of the stories are true nostalgic stories while others are more in the line of fiction or fact with Irish themes.

‘Materialism’ & Christmas Box

Here are two poems from my 1994 collection that I published under the title of ‘Walk of Life’. The first, ‘Materialism’ is obviously about someone who is very materialistic and who has lost sight of his creator with all his possessions not realising that his creator has been there the whole time. Perhaps his cry from the heart: “Ah! dear God, what can it be?” could ironically mean that he is closer to the truth than he imagines.

The second poem, ‘Christmas Box’ is set in the centre of London and is about one of the people who tried to make a go of it but failed.

Materialism

Give me money,

Lots of money,

Give me riches,

Is my cry.

Let me have it,

Let me buy it,

Oh! I need it,

Is my cry.

I don’t care for anybody,

’Cause they don’t care for me.

Give me money, lots of money,

Let me have a spending spree.

I have heard religious people,

Fuddy, duddy’s, everyone.

“Help each other,” they will tell you,

“Give to the poor what you can my son.”

To blazes! With that kind of thinking,

I have just one life to live.

Give me money, lots of money,

I’ll go through it like a sieve.

A house, a car, a boat, a plane.

All these riches I can gain.

If only I had it, lots of money,

And never had to bear a pain.

I am doing very well now.

All my dreams have now come true.

The things I wanted, yes! I have them.

I have got what is my due.

And yet, I’m very far from happy.

Something’s missing I can see.

I’ve everything I ever wanted.

Ah! Dear God, what can it be?

Christmas Box

I’ve come to live in London,

The glamour and the glitz.

Because it is the place to be,

But really it’s the pits.

 

I came to live in London,

To grab a hold of fame.

I weighed up all the pro and cons,

I’d make myself a name.

 

Instead I met a hostile world,

Of people rushing by.

I have no place to call my own,

My roof is just the sky.

How hard it is to live like this,

To struggle on with life.

To find a cardboard box at night,

Just adds to daily strife.

 

It’s coming near to Christmas,

Will the New Year bring more shocks?

Who thought I’d live to see the day,

I would sleep in my Christmas box.

Day Trippers

This poem was inspired by a visit to the island of Inishbofin seven miles off the coast of Galway and which was journeyed to by the Dun Aenghus which was skippered by the famous Paddy O’Halloran. I subsequently had this poem framed for sale in the Inishbofin Shop and Irene the gift shop owner told me that all the ones I gave her for sale went out the door almost immediately. Day Trippers