Poetry from a Dublin Scientist

Month: November, 2012

Heavy Stuff

“He reaches over to her hard nipples and…”

My God! This is heavy stuff!

I breathe deeply

Feeling the palpitations of my heart

The energy of the words flows ever onwards

Captivating me

Titillating me

Bound by them

Yet oddly happy in bondage

I have seen the power of words

For I am under their spell


Aunt Flo’s Suspicious Fruit and Veg

All Bananas big and small

Huge cucumbers by the wall

Artichokes and dodgy Leeks

Can leave you giggling for weeks

All these wondrous things and more

Can be bought at this our store

Our name, in red, above the ledge

Aunt Flo’s Suspicious Fruit and Veg


We have foods for every taste

That’s not too bulky on the waist

In the most interesting shapes

To be the source of all your japes

So couples seeking nights of passion

With suggestive food in fashion

So one and all, off you pop

To this unique green grocer’s shop

Little lost student

There in the lab

On a Wednesday Morning

I heard a loud crash

And a shout of warning


I raise my head

And I see smoke

“He’s done it again

This is a real joke!”


He is a young student

Just a fourth year

Empty of mind

And drunken with beer


We figured it quick

So he’d not hurt himself

Just to give him the save stuff

On his own little shelf


But somehow this moron

Started a fire

With years of work

Lost to the pyre


But we put it out

A lot we did save

But we then had to deal

With this undergrad knave


Our sentence was humane

Got him out of the lab

To endanger others

Which we thought was fab

Dammit! I look Good

Wearing coat and tails

Bow-tie tightly done

Flash of silky sheen on fabric

Refined, at least in appearance

Able to hold my own with statesmen and kings

Hold my head high

Without embarrassment or shyness

Because I am done up

Dressed in my finest

And Damn it!

I look good

Stag night: A Pantoum

Here comes our brave heroic band

Our for glorious stag-night

Wedding day is soon at hand

They plan to stay out for till first light


Out for glorious stag-night

They drink whiskey, wine and beer

They plan to stay out till first light

On this their best night of the year


They drink whiskey, wine and beer

Soon they are completely pissed

On this their best night of the year

But of course the fun’s not missed


Soon they are completely pissed

Falling round in insane fun

But of course the fun’s not missed

Every road to mischief’s run


Falling round in insane fun

Wedding day is soon at hand

Every road to mischief’s run

Here comes our brave heroic band

Ghosts in the Room

I see them sometimes

A glimmer, shadows in the corner of my eye

As if I were seeing reflections in the window

I always accept it at first

As if they were meant to be there

As they always had been

But I quickly do a double-take

And they disappear

Leaving the room, and my soul

Empty again

On good days

I dismiss it there and then

My mind playing tricks again

On bad days

I am back in my private hell

A seeming eternity

Waiting for a wife and child who will never return

Except for ghosts in the room

Vestiges of what was lost

Your type

I hear you talking

Pleading, trying to change my point of view

But I just ignore you

Because I know you

I know your type

I know what you are

I know what you do

That all you say is lies

All you show is false

I know your type

I know you all too well

Because when I see you

I look at you performing your sordid act

I feel I am looking in the mirror

I see myself

Haikus 26/11/12

Lab is very cold
Solvents freezing in bottles
Very hard to work
It’s forbidden fruit
You can look but do not touch
It only brings grief
It is very odd
Strange things on the horizon
Best not look too close
Christmas trees up now?
But it’s only November
That’s far too early

Winnings: An Englyn

I have won a book of erotic fiction

I find it exotic

Descriptions quite Quixotic

Reading makes me neurotic



The random drops of rain

Falling in a glassy window

As if gravel was falling from the heavens



No rhythm to it

No order to its chaotic patter

Coming in sheets

Pounding the glass after lulls



Infinite variations

Constantly waking

Unable to sleep

Just watch the streams flow down