 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 13:59:49 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 1079
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Enough O'riley Enough!
[time] => 2002-07-24 21:07:38
[hometext] => Repost
[bodytext] => There was moss down the back of his jacket,
his shirt all dishevelled and torn. Most of the night O’Riley’s lips, a flagon of whiskey had worn He staggered the street like a dancer who had lost all the will to fly. Filing abuse at the windows and doors of the good village folk he passed by. His knuckles all swollen and bloodied. His eyes were away with the stars. O’Riley again found his pleasures, in the sleaze of the street-fighting bars. His woman was beautiful Mary Maguire the flower of County Kildare. Her face like a blossoming garden and a forest of autumn her hair Sweet Mary held close to her bosom, A reason to thank God above. As they warmed by an open flamed fire, that was fuelled by a good mothers love. She rued the day she’d been given away that warm summers day of July. Just five years before, under old Celtic lore she had kissed her contentment goodbye. She’d married a man of love and the land and had soon taken gift of a child. Then watched as the alcohol butchered her dreams and turn the man’s decency wild. She kept with one eye on the window, no candle of welcoming burned. Her ears had been warned by the footsteps, as slowly the door handle turned. One look from O’Riley a chill filled the room, like before down her spine she had felt. There he stood sporting a drunk ruddy face as he gradually loosened his belt. “Away from my child, you b**tard!” she screamed “Across my dead body” she cried “Your violence speaks only of liquor, And the madness of hell in your eyes”. “For a knife as long as is sharp I swear I will plunge oh so deep in your heart”. “And be judged for the action of sin I commit, But forever from you be apart”. O’Riley moved in for the thrashing, to fulfil his sadistic desire. Mary took hold of the poker, That stood in the hearth of the fire. She struck with the strength she could muster, but he felt not a sober man’s pain. So she smashed and she smashed til' his eyes rolled away. then again and again and again. For the life of O’Riley she took back then, repentance each day she has shown. And hopes that her God will show mercy, to a mother protecting her own. [comments] => 9 [counter] => 424 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Terry_Stephen_Driscoll [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 40 [ratings] => 8 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com