Poetry from a Dublin Scientist

Tag: issues

First World Problem

I have a First World problem
I can’t get Skimmed milk for my Latte
The broadband here is too slow
I just don’t know where I will go on holiday this year
Flights can be a pain to organise
Which music player will I buy
My CD collection is too big
I will have to organise it (groan)
So much food in the house
But I have to cook it
So many problems
In such myopic detail
That is I concentrate on them
If I look really hard
Then I won’t hear a damn thing
Of the cries for help coming from all around us
For I have my First World Problems
And that is all I can concentrate on at the moment


How often have I fucked up today?

Simple enough question I know

But really how often

How many spills of  waste

How many fires

Not that many I hope

I wasn’t counting

But what about the major fuck-ups?

The festering, fermenting, problems

That I have set in motion

Usually unknowingly

Waiting, building

Until the perfect time, the opportune moment

To explode back at me, in a pulse of hatred and resentment

So I ask again

How often did I fuck-up today?

I don’t know, you probably don’t either

But I tell you one thing

One depressing certainty

One of these days, I will find out

Fifty Percent


Fifty percent

That is the grade of happiness I take

At least once a day

Maybe more

Fifty percent, my medicine

Lubricates my life

Dulls the pain, eases the trails of life

Not essential, just make things easier

I can quit whenever I want

I just want to take the fifty percent

I deserve it, don’t I?

I work hard, look after my family

Work so hard I barely see them

The fifty percent keeps them distant too

Not that they know how difficult it is

How the real world works

Then they would approve

Give me their blessing

My balm, my fifty percent

That I can quit whenever I want

But I won’t

Because..because… I need it