Poetry from a Dublin Scientist

Category: inspiration

Happy day

Happy non-Birthday to you

Here’s a present, just because

Merry not-Christmas

Let us drink and have fun, why should winter have all the fun

Happy non-Valentines day

Here’s a card, I’m going to take you out

Happy non-Father’s day

Get him some socks, a man can always use socks

Happy non-Mother’s day

Spend some time with the auld one, you never know when you will again

Happy day to you all

There is no time like the present

The special days are the ones you embrace

Regardless of title or providence

Who you’re with and what you do

Nothing more and nothing better

It’s as simple as that


Dressed in robes of scarlet red

Swimming notions in your head

Graduating PhD

Surely is a sight to see

The Ten Thousand

In Poznan they all came to fore

From Dublin street and Wexford shore

 Not knowing what they had in store

Came the ten thousand


Great hopes they had these crowds in green

A victory that they could gleam

In an epic, glorious scene

Came the ten thousand


No inn or tavern spared from it

That irrepressible Irish wit

Shouting irish quite a bit

Came the ten thousand


Alas the team failed to bring

Victory or anything

But oh how the fans did sing

All the ten thousand


In all three games they came to naught

Though not dejected as they ought

A nation’s pride instead was sought

So sang the ten thousand


Green shirts and flags were packed away

To wait again for the day

Were once again we come and say

Here come the ten thousand


They say time heals all

But that is only partially right

Time reduces, balms, deflates

But it doesn’t completely remove

The kernel, the spore of the hurt

Ready to grow when able

To remind of what was lost

To sap at joy, erode happiness

Taking over dreams in the night

Lurking through days


The trick is to continue

To remember everyday what remains

Love, others, a beautiful world full of wonders

To live in, to explore

To keep the spore closed

By remembering to live.


Can you here the voices beneath your feet

The ancient songs of a past long gone

Constant change yet all playing a similar tune

Life and death, the lyrics of nature

Many actors have used this stage

Left their marks on the rock beneath our feet

Impressions, bones and prints

The graffiti of the past

Good sport

“Be a good sport!” the head coach once said

A thoughtful man, now many years dead

“To be fair is a virtue!” he did implore

Then walked his large frame through the dressing room door

We tried ascertaining what else he did mean

But could think of nothing except the obscene

See he often had the most shocking insights

That kept us all awake many nights

This seemed damn well normal, no reason to pause

It was only the next day that we found out the cause

Principal Walker called out the whole school

We expected a lecture on another strange rule

But instead what we said, kept our eyes open wide

Up there, the head coach, with a guard at each side

It turned out the head coach fixed many a game

But then turned himself in, so great was the shame

He betrayed us, he mumbled, his voice all down low

Just to get hands on a little more dough

He was so deeply sorry, was now on the brink

And looking at a couple of years in the clink

His best lesson, was that one, his last

And I’ve kept it closely through many years past

Through dealing with others it’s best to stay true

As the person you’ll have to live with, is you.

We never saw it coming

We never saw it coming

We had planned for it

Debated endlessly how to fight

Even warned about the consequences to those who would use it

But we never saw it coming


We were never looking that’s why

Too wrapped up in our own ideas

Our own politics and plans

Trying to move things our way

To see them move against us


And to what altar were we sacrificed?

What plan for the greater good?

Was there a purpose to our ignorance?

I think not

Foolishness never has a reason, doesn’t need one

It just is


So when I hear the tales of woe

Of shame from those not there

About horrible deeds of the ‘Man’

I know that it was we who brought our downfall

We were asleep when it was taken from us.

Crutch less

Crutch less I am forced to just get moving

Without support I have to act

Without help I must do

The crutch is not there, by choice or design it is not there

How can I go without it?

How can I do what I must?

What are my options?

To close myself up, creep into my shell

The temptation of hiding getting stronger

Or I can go on

Realise that the crutch is not necessary

That my life is not defined by it

So from then on I can walk with confidence and pride

Standing tall, on my own.

Cop On

If you could just cop on for a second

Realise that there is more to life than you

That other people have needs, have things to do

That we are not your slaves

That would be something.


If you could stop for a second and calm down

Keep yourself from running about in a state of madness

You have a long life to live, no need to do it all in a day

The future will still be there tomorrow

Try and spend more time in the now.


It time you woke up and smelled the roses

You have been in your own world for too long

Things are happening around you

If you don’t get moving you will miss out

We don’t want to leave you behind.

Best not

Best not to do it

To not take the risk

To avoid the chance of failure

The horrific visage of the defeated


Best not to ask

You might not get an answer you want

Or maybe you will

And then what?


Best not to go

Things are different there

New and unfamiliar

More to learn and lose


Best not to listen

You never know what you will hear

What has been heard is seldom erased

The continual assault of memory


Best not to see

For there is a lot in the world to look at

Demanding a closer viewing

And if you do that, what will happen next?


Best not to anyway

There is always a chance of harm, of bad

But always the chance of good too

And that is what makes it best to do.