Something Moving, Something Creeping

A whistling wakes you in the night
A shrouded moonlight aids your sight
You see your breath turn to a mist
The cold air grips you like a fist
Was it the wind that stopped you sleeping?
Or something moving? Something creeping?
You locked the doors, and closed the windows
So why throughout the house the wind blows?
The wind whimpers like a woman mourning
Is all this nothing, or a warning?
What secret is the darkness keeping?
Something moving? Something creeping?
The wind dies down, then you hear it
Braver men than you would fear it
A creeping sound, a scrape, scrape, scrape
That sends a chill right down your nape
What has sent your poor heart leaping?
Something moving? Something creeping?
You rise from bed, to the open door
You cannot bear even one step more
It’s getting louder, it’s getting closer
A horrible sound, that’s getting grosser
From your mind all doubt is seeping
Something’s moving, something’s creeping
The scraping sound turns to a thud
Upon the staircase made of wood
Some thing is coming up the stairs
Upon your skin stand all your hairs
Through your body are shivers sweeping
Something’s moving, something’s creeping
Then in the dark you see a head
Sharp teeth so white, and eyes so red
What are those spread out by its sides?
As long and sharp as farmers’ scythes
Your soul is ripe for the reaping
By something moving, something creeping
As it approaches, you step back
And hit the bedframe with a crack
You scream in pain and hit the floor
All hope is gone, there’s nothing more
On the cold, hard floor you’re weeping
While something’s moving, something’s creeping

A Mother’s Love

A mother’s love is easy to find
But not so eas-ily defined
It’s the sleepless nights, the endless watch
The plans their children easily botch
The hours spent in painful birth
And yet they love us with such mirth
And we love them, but not as much
Their heights of love we cannot touch
Until the day that you and me
Grow up and start a family
We’ll learn how much that love is tough
And thank them more, never enough


Nothing in Life Worth Having Comes Easy

We must struggle and fight for all in this life
Adam’s punishment from God to endure all this strife
If he’d only resisted that sweet-sour taste
None of our efforts would go to waste
All’s arduously built, easily destroyed
Hauled out of the earth, tossed in the void
It’s eased by technology that we have employed
But life’s merciless nature is hard to avoid
You try hard to make something
Try hard not to break something
Ignore and forsake nothing
Or you’re certain to make nothing
When times are tough, and work’s unrewarded
And not one bit of slack’s been afforded
A little old saying serves always to please me
“Nothing in life worth having comes easy”


You strive everyday, you wish to win away
But you always get caught up in the games they play
Wear you heart upon your sleeve, scream until it’s time to leave
But their attention’s gone, and now it’s time to grieve
You paint somethin’, say somethin’
Write somethin’, play somethin’
But it don’t mean nothin’, means nothin’ to me
Finding that meaning might set you free
You wake up again, pick up another pen
One day maybe you’ll make it, but if not, what happens then?
Maybe you’ll turn to a friend, or keep striving til the end
Cos if you don’t search for meaning life will drive you round the bend

A Billion Feet On Grafton Street

A billion feet
Have walked this street
Each with its tale to tell
The day the empire fell
And how we wished so well
Irish hearts did swell
But this was all before
Their hearts were torn by civil war
Men who had fought side by side
Broke ranks to fight for civic pride
Brothers in arms became brothers denied
And at each other’s hands they died
Another foot could tell of when
The Jews had been denied as men
Treated like animals, or worse still
Vermin to exterminate, rats to kill
Germany became a dominant nation
Hell bent on world domination
The Allies united and tried to fight
America ignored their pitiful plight
Until the Japs’ Kamikazes’ flight
Convinced them they should do what’s right
In doing right, they did wrong
With repercussions that go on
To avenge Pearl Harbour, their rebuke
Was to hit Japan with a nuke
After it all, they built a wall
With consequences far from small
Former allies became fearsome foes
As behind the wall communism grows
The east was shrouded by an Iron Curtain
The war grew cold, that is certain
The race for arms and to the moon
Served to grow the global gloom
All these words spoken by a foot
Who feared the troubles nigh afoot
They began with a movement for civil rights
Discrimination and sectarianism were in the sights
Resistance came from the Paisleyites
Who sought to suppress the nationalist mites
The day that Nelson’s pillar fell
I swear you could’ve heard a bell
The faintest toll for the dead
Who’d die in the Troubles close ahead
In ’66 the UVF declared war
On the IRA, to settle a score
They burned a Catholic pub to the floor
And killed a Protestant living next door
How can you target an enemy around you
When close to them your allies are found too?
How can you call yourselves “Defenders of Ulster”
When killing civilians is part of your culture
John Sullivan was shot as he walked alone
Three men were shot leaving a pub to go home
Four innocents killed who’d done nothing wrong
Killed for the religion to which they belong
In ’68 NICRA marched
For a sip of equality, they were parched
By the UPV they were attacked
Who called to ban marches, and who were backed
Backed by the government, marches were banned
NICRA defied them, and made a stand
The RUC beat them without provocation
RTE aired footage that shocked a nation
And sparked riots in Derry that went on for days
Catholics clashed with constables in an indignant craze
The People’s Democracy march was attacked at Berntollet
With a sectarian savagery that brings bile to my gullet
The RUC rampaged in Belfast’s Bogside
If you were Catholic, you’d nowhere to hide
The RUC’s onslaught got heated and hairy
So they built up barricades and created “Free Derry”
The Unionist Forces bombed water and power plants
“The IRA!” “It was them!” were resounding chants
The people believed it- a Protestant majority-
And lost faith in Prime Minister O’Neill’s authority
The PM resigned, poor old O’Neill
With the rising unrest he couldn’t deal
The Unionists rejoiced, and held Paisley aloft
On the Civil Rights Movement O’Neill had been soft
After that a war broke out
Guerrilla warfare, but a war no doubt
The British Army aggravated
And the IRA retaliated
Twenty-eight years of bombings and blood
Paramilitary groups killing all that they could
The British Army was none the better
Shoot-to-kill orders followed to the letter
The five techniques, internment without trial
Bloody Sunday, both vicious and vile
A peaceful protest exposed to attack
People shot as they ran, right in the back
The IRA’s motives are far from a mystery
Though Unionist atrocities are wiped from history
Only those three letters are remembered maliciously
Though the Unionist Forces campaigned as viciously
An agreement of peace was signed on Good Friday
What a good day it was, hope ahead on life’s highway
But the bombings in Omagh burnt up the clover
Telling us the Troubles may never truly be over
While the troubles all went on
The Cold War warmed across the pond
The Soviets spread their ideology
From Seoul, Korea to Hanoi
The Yanks wouldn’t let them, would they, damn!
So invaded Korea and Vietnam
The first was short without success
How ’bout the second? No need to guess
Vietnam, the never ending war
That of the fabric of American society tore
Soldiers who fought were boys, not men
You could be unborn at the start, killed by the end
Then the disaster of Nine Eleven
I pray for them, who’re now in heaven
But the greatest tragedy was not the towers
Twas the retribution of western powers
Iraq were worst off in the War on Terror
It was they who paid for the Taliban’s error
A hundred thousand civilians died
Americans became terrorists, Iraqis cried
All this horror that those feet told of
Is a drop in the ocean I can’t keep hold of
So many more atrocities and inhuman acts
It would tear out my heart to tell all the facts
Genocide in Palestine, Kosovo, Uganda
Cambodia, Bosnia, and Rwanda
That’s leaving out more than a few
To tell it all I couldn’t do
What a terrible thing to be able to say
Had the twentieth century one peaceful day?
All this told by many feet
Many I will never meet
Of what will our future feet tell
More peaceful times, or further hell?