Hurricane Katrina
How could it happen?
Quite easy it seems
The mighty ocean
Bursts city’s seams
The hurricane roars.

The ocean rides high
The city lies low
The poorest are trapped
No ways to go
Some will die.

Communications fail
Isolation prevails.

Water is everywhere
But there’s none to drink
The beautiful river a cesspit that stinks
Some escape to the domes.

Now helicopters come; helicopters go
Having lifted off roofs
Those clinging below
Still the question remains
Were authorities slow?

The city is dead
Who is to blame?

Fingers are pointed this way and that
The President pledges
New Orleans will be back.
By Carmel McCarthy

We won’t have a Christmas this year
We won’t have a Christmas this year, you say
For now the children have all gone away;
And the house is so lonely, so quiet and so bare
We couldn’t have a Christmas that they didn’t share.

We won’t have a Christmas this year, you sigh,
For Christmas means things that money must buy.
Misfortunes and illness have robbed us we fear
Of the things that we’d need to make Christmas this year.

We won’t have a Christmas this year you weep,
For a loved one is gone, and our grief is too deep;
It will be a long time before our hearts heal,
And the Spirit of Christmas again we can feel.

But if you lose Christmas when troubles befall,
You never have really had Christmas at all.
For once you have had it, it cannot depart
When you learn that true Christmas is Christ in your heart.
By Verna S. Teeuwissen

Birds of Paradise
From the cliffs overlooking the sea,
majestic creatures encompass me.
I watch them glide, I watch them soar,
In my mind, its heaven once more.

The sky is the bird’s canvas,
its wings an artist’s brush,
gaze upon its beauty
and feel your spirits rush.
By Brian Kelly

The Pig
It was an evening in November,
As I very well remember,
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
But my knees were all a-flutter,
And I landed in the gutter
And a pig came up and lay down by my side.

Yes, I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter,
When a colleen pasing by did softly say
“You can tell a man who boozes
by the company he chooses”–
And the pig got up and slowly walked away.
By Anon

Having a word with a bare tree
Blossomless tree, I beg you
Grow flowers, foliage and fruit.
Hurry to your spring wardrobe,
We are tired of your sombre suit!
Vanish quickly, winter greyness;
Tree, let me see you budding soon.

Come gentle spring, robe stark streets,
Park and field; parade in style,
Decorate the dullness of our isle!
By Máirín Diamond

Disappointment
I was expecting more than they could give
Expecting a ‘thank you’ for what I did
Instead of that they took the merit
Air brushed me out without a credit.
My pain came from my expectations
Did I really anticipate congratulations?
I should have known better
Than to expect a letter.
By Carmel McCarthy

My topsy-turvy world
Doing anything on time is anathema to me,
I always have my breakfast when others have their tea,
I wash and give myself a shave before I go to bed
And help myself to drink when it’s time that I be fed,

Some friends of mine do sadly think I’m just a little odd,
Whilst the others dance around and think me very Mod
I write my letters backwards, so they never arrive on time,
I go to prison first, before I do my crime.

The judge is very fair; he arrives when all is over,
He gives his judgements first and then goes in a coma.
He wears his wig upon his sleeve; his gown
is round his neck, He falls asleep when counsel speaking– my god he looks a wreck.

I like to play a game when I’m all alone and sole,
There is no one I can pass to, but still I never score a goal.
I always dry myself before I have my shower,
And when I see a lovely girl, for myself I buy the flower.

When I want to go next door, I walk the other way,
I always say goodbye before I say good-day,
And when I get to where I was, I know not where I am,
I arrive before I’ve left, but care I not a damn.

My house is topsy-turvy, the books are on the floor,
Where you think the windows are, that’s where
you’ll find the door,
The bed is in the kitchen, the larder’s in the bath,
So when they come to lock me up, just wave
and have a laugh.
By A. E. Mouse

Snowball
I made myself a snowball as perfect as could be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet and let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas and a pillow for its head.
Then, last night it ran away.
But first– it wet the bed.
By Shel Silverstein

Coffee in Heaven
You’ll be greeted
By a nice cup of coffee
When you get to heaven
And strains of angelic harmony.

But wouldn’t you be devastated
If they only serve decaffeinated
While from the percolators of hell

Your soul was assaulted
By Satan’s fresh espresso smell?
By John Agard

As always, we welcome contributions to
The Poetry Place, which can be sent to the
‘NewsFour’ offices at 15 Fitzwilliam Street,
Ringsend, Dublin 4. newsfourscs@eircom.net