Sunday, August 29, 2010


foreign land

life blanked
not know

not now

Prison hell

death knell

school bell

dirty dust


medicine ball
assembly hall
Doc Martens.

No hope
little scope
pound for pound
dope for dope
set square
strait jacket
compass point
wage packet

blank page

internal rage
Fact file
Don’t think

must drink

their opinion
is dominion


government whore

pain away

Ironic sham
rights of man

snuffed out
seeds doubt

don’t belong
all wrong
no choice
no voice

School fate
School flame
School blame.

Thank you school!


Heather said...

That's a wonderful poem Peadar, but what a shame none of your teachers had the skill to interest you in the subjects they were supposed to be teaching you. You sound pretty literate inpite of it!

the watercats said...

love that rowan atkinson clip, lol! forgot all about it! and also love your poem.. sounds like we had a similar time ;-)

The Weaver of Grass said...

This is a bit grim Eej - not much hope there.

Anonymous said...

Wow, that is really knockout.
thanks for sharing

The Bug said...

I think you and the Watercats DID go to the same school. I'm so sorry. But it looks like you turned out all right after all, right?

Peter Goulding said...

Yup, school was crap and work is crap. I'm kind of hoping retirement is an improvement on both.

Enchanted Oak said...

strait jacket
wage packet
blank page
internal rage
Fact file
Don’t think
must drink
their opinion
is dominion

Good rant!

Lydia said...

Toss away the fact that our marvelous school experiences were separated by many things, including years, and you still come up with similarities that startle the mind! Great poem.

ArtSparker said...

A bitter pith. I have some positive memories of some teachers, though.

Niamh B said...

A sad poem tfe, doc martins were my footwear of choice for the entirety of secondary school

(ok I'm still wearing a pair - they don't make em like they used to)

chiccoreal said...

Dear Totalfeckineejit: Bloody well right! I sensed that angry young man aa byproduct from the institution and the wall surround which never makes much room for such a soulfulsprite as you be! Thank goodness for punk rock! And glostnos and tear down these walls. Walls, man! I so feel this!You are a fine poet!

Argent said...

Another one of your brealthessly paced rages! Loved it, especially the ending.

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

Creatively written. Rant justified in some cases.

Dave King said...

It may not be "my sort" of poem, maybe it should be, but I can't tell how much I admired that. And enjoyed it, too. "My sort" or not, I would have been proud to have written it - and rather wish I had.

Anonymous said...

A fine noisy rant and right on the money for so many.

Karen said...

prison hell
death knell
school bell

So sorry...

But that's the absolutely funniest video I've ever seen! Orifice! Haaaaaa!