Horse out the tablets Mr Pharmacist

I’ve got a prescription, I’ve got a huge list

Take your time I insist

You’re not too bad an egoist

You know what my bag of tablets consist

Just keep horsing out the tablets Mr Pharmacist

Ship will carry us safe to shore

There are refugee’s travelling from far away

They are escaping war and human conflict

Looking for safety and sanctuary

Ireland is obligated to take some in

There’s plenty of room

It’s the right thing to do

Imagine it was us looking for refuge

What country would you head for?

If Ireland was engulfed in war

You would be looking for a ship to carry you safe to shore

The poems don’t write themselves

They are written by people

On pieces of paper held together with a staple

It’s that simple

Any poem will do

Put on a brew

Go online and buy a canoe

Become a Hindu

Start sniffing glue

Start saying more How-do-you do?

Travel to Kathmandu

Play Peekaboo

Cook a stew

Change shampoo

Have some Tiramisu

Change one negative point of view

Not me, You 

As we all share this planet which is really a type of Zoo

The poems don’t write themselves

It doesn’t need description
For many it was a prescription
An oasis on Harbour Street
An opportunity for friends to meet
Many antique weapons did the walls adorn
But tonight we feel forlorn
And slightly torn
A great man for good advise
A sound man who had time for anyone
Tonight we definitely feel forlorn
As we think and remember Sean

Have 30 or 40 things I should be doing
Can’t do anything
It ain’t glamorous
It ain’t rapturous
It ain’t “I am the Walrus”
All I do is procrastinate
Can’t write, can’t paint, can’t coordinate
Maybe its the medication which I don’t rate
It’s supposed to make me feel great
Maybe i’m the contaminate
All I do is procrastinate
As an artist my job is to illuminate
But this feeling of uselessness is starting to dominate
Hopefully soon they will vaccinate
And this virus they will eliminate
So I can get back and perform
Give the artists back a platform
Many lives this would transform
And as I write this on paper with my biro
I push back this procrastination until tomorrow

What an industrious man you will ever meet
If you ever meet him you are in for a treat
Became friends with him 20 years ago
Have never fallen out with him this I know
He’s a farmer and knows loads about animals and plants
If you ask him a favor he never says he can’t
He’s well traveled and a believer in free thinking
He prefer’s being a smoker than spending his time drinking
He’s an amazing chef, using only the best ingredients
His food is always succulent, dare I say magnificent
He’s a pleasure to be in his company
Always look forward to visit his farm in Tipperary
Whenever i’m feeling down I call on you my friend
In my time of need, a helping hand you always lend

Ivor’s House
Lets head to Rahan Roads penthouse
Rahan Roads Whitehouse
Ivor was the president
George Micheal Micheal Jackson
Some said it was a dosshouse
To many a playhouse
Back in the day
To some it was a nuthouse
Many house parties that did arouse
The fucking fantastic parties in Ivor’s house

I still need you
I still miss you
5km seems like a thousand miles
If I could just see you tonight
Everything would be alright
Might turn my frown upside down
Stuck in the middle of a lockdown
I think about you every day
In my own particular way
Can’t wait to see you again
The sooner the better praise the Gods amen
Missing people is part of this journey
It’s not all agony
Still got my mates inside the 5km limit
Will be worth living like a hermit
To see you again