A man from Cavan

I met a man from Cavan as last night I
crossed the square,
he once lived here for 20 years but now
resides elsewhere,
the sun was shining as we strolled and
spoke of this and that,
Of trees and bushes and of playing hide
and seek,
and the ease of finding children now
the park was bleak.

The speed of it was staggering,why just
the other week
had he spent an hour in this same place
his youngest niece to seek.
You could find them in a minute now, a
flourish as he spoke,
the gardeners and the diggers had taken
that green cloak.

We stopped again at the farther gate
for its that way I was bound
to drink a bottle with some friends was
my intention to be found.
He hinted there was darker news not yet
upon the ear.
Of how the folk inside the bank’s  had
commission tier by tier
At ten per cent between five,divided
unequal clear.

Had it added to make housing very very
And now the boom was over some deals
had gone awry
The buyers of the elephants thought the
they’d paid for this huge house was
very very high

While all of this was taking place he
said  cracks began to show,
aside from this my dog Bear had fixated
on a  crow.
Odd things, the Vatican, the Pontiffs
ring and Bishop so and so.
They headed for their lawyers in whose
office they could smoke
for he understood their nervousness now
that they were broke.

He spoke more loudly on the phone than
they were used to hear
demanding that commission’s paid  be
shown  against arrear.
The bankers on the other end said
legally  we’re in the clear
and anyway we spent that money on
holidays last year.

The auctioneers he knew of were
definitely in the plan
a common piece of burglary against the
common man.
The policticos are useless against this
type of crime
In fact as far as he could see they
should all be doing time.

Copyright 2010

Dedicated to Lawyer No1  Dee  Fahy & Co  tel  012048845 without whose help I might have lost my mind!

She is qualified to practise in both the U.S.A. Mass and Ireland

Published in: on March 20, 2010 at 1:26 pm  Comments (5)  

Notes on Matters Medica

When I was five years old I was ‘lucky ‘to be sent you a boarding school then situated in the Phoenix Park in Dublin , an annexe to Mount Sackville the well known girls school. The place was run by a stout red faced English woman Mother Elizabeth and was run more or less on military lines with a classical education. The uniform of Blue blazer white shirt and tie ,short grey trousers and knee high grey socks black shoes was examined as often as ones knowledge of Algebra and Latin.

The nuns themselves were wrapped as I later got know mummy style layer upon layer of sacred bandages of one sort or another all white ,quite a shock for a 7 yr old having stumbled into Mother Elizabeth’s cubicle one evening on my way to the loo while she was in the process of decloaking , a such complex process that I was unnoticed ,over which they wore black billowing skirts and black billowing veils .I say billowing as I think they weren’t allowed to stop and were in nearly a state of perpetual motion going thither or praying, constant forward velocity.

Trust me when I tell you that ‘Freddie’ holds less fear for me today. Mother Elizabeth was relentless and ruthless for she truly believed that God had called on her to beat every child in the school at least once a term,On the occasions she really lost it she would pray while she beat you….. ‘Hail Holy Queen,Mother of mercy ,our life, our sweetness and our hope’,she would begin ,one boy that I recall David T she beat every morning as he wet the bed needless to say on a nightly basis after which he would be made to wash the stain out of the sheet and bring in to the laundry room. The laundry room was run by a Mother Celeste who I am reliably informed was George Lucas’s inspiration for Darth Vader( picked her out of a photo line up of nuns at Lourdes).She was also a lurker a silent lurker in the maze of grey corridors that connected the whole place up,and like Darth Vader could appear from nowhere, for a while I thought the reason you couldn’t hear her coming was that she did not wear shoes I now believe it was that she had no feet.Her eyes were black as coal and and her voice monotonic and forbidding .Among the crimes one could commit that she particularly kept watch for was that you were seen with your socks (knee high grey) down around your ankle. the punishment for this was a caning on the backs of the calves. From here comes the expression ‘Keep your socks up’ and so the beginnings of a life time habit which includes a disproportionate dislike of buying socks and so I have established a routine of buying 24 pairs at a time. normally this gives me about 2 yrs between event horizons given that 1 in 9 socks in a laundry bag dematerializes. Only the fittest and toughest socks survive to their replacement date.

About two and half years ago I started having trouble with my feet stiffness at first then pain ,pain in the bones and joints and so I hobbled off to see my G.P and after examining me declared ‘it might just be that you are getting older’ He is a good sort , I am not absolutely sure what he knows about medicine but he is very well connected to those that do and a phone call from his office can get you in front of the right man in a day or two and that’s the principal reason I go to him. So within a blink my Consultant Endocrinologist and his two lovely assistants were caressing my feet and so forth,Lab technicians worked feverishly. nothing could be found. the Endocrinologist took me off my minute dose of neo mercazole which underpinned my sanity in case it was an adverse reaction. Several visits to a chiropractor a cheerful Canadian man who eventually proclaimed ‘Beats me’ did little to help. I even found myself in front of a man in Stillorgan with several degrees in electrical engineering who wired me up to a Barberella type machine before producing several bottles of medicine which had to be stored in the dark . The eminent Gastroenterologist consulted did so without charge exclaiming ‘No idea how you ended up here’. And so the prescription for painkillers from my G.P. slid across the desk into my hand ‘Eat a little food each time you take one’ was his advice and still is three years later as he leads me to the door ,pay downstairs.

I digress ,too much twitter : ) about 10 evenings ago as I retired for bed as I was taking my socks off I noticed corrugated ridges from my ankle to below my calf ,Ho Hum ,I thought time to go for a couple of dozen as by now the 24 had become only 6 but 6 of the toughest.Momentarily I thought I heard a remembered ghostly whoosh that would signal the arrival of Darth Vader all those years ago and those black beady eyes that chilled one to the core but decided it was Bear @billionairedog having a crafty fart.

As I settled into bed I found myself thinking … I wonder could tight socks affect the circulation of the blood in any appreciable way and resolved to go sock less for a couple of days before falling asleep. Three weeks later not even a twinge of pain remains in my feet. So if you know someone who knew Darth Vader when she was only a nun ……….Pass It On……..Pass it On                                       c 2010

Published in: on February 20, 2010 at 4:43 pm  Comments (31)