An Emotion

An Emotion I’m strolling along the Canal Bank, by the River of my memories. There is nobody here to see me, as I go back to early nineteen fifties. Many changes have taken place, since the time that I’m recalling. And the width of the river has narrowed, ever since the tugs stopped hauling. I want to be here by myself, all alone, with no detractions. Mother Nature can surround me, with all her mystical attractions. It is here I found the scent in the air, to be at it’s very sweetest. It is here the birds sing a happy refrain while building their nest the neatest It is here, beneath quiet waters, the fish play hide and seek. It is here the boys and girls meet, it is a place in loves technique. The river Shannon has many canals, as she makes her way to the ocean. But this one here in Limericks City, has earned all of my emotion. Michael Christopher Daly Dec.25, 2008

It's Never Too LateSnow at Christmas Time

Snow at Christmas Time Snow at Christmas time just ends the season right Looking out the window is just a wonderful sight The Christmas tree stretches up to its greatest height And a fire in the hearth, adds warmth throughout the night Outside, the snow flakes trickle their way down Trying to find a resting place, somewhere in town They bring a smile to ones face, while ridding a frown And magically clings on, like a glowing gown One must watch in silence, what is happening outside Pull the children around you, with their eyes opened wide Looking up toward the heavens for Santa’s sleigh ride Hoping he is bringing presents to where they abide Nearly everything is perfect at this time of the year Yet remembering friends who passed on with a tear They come into our thoughts without bringing a fear And a smile and a prayer to those we hold dear The blanket of white is now spread all around Anyone out there is mostly homebound Love is everywhere just waiting to be found Like the snow it has arrived without making a sound. Michael Christopher Daly Dec.20, 2008

Snow At ChristmasSnow at Christmas Time

Snow at Christmas Time Snow at Christmas time just ends the season right Looking out the window is just a wonderful sight The Christmas tree stretches up to its greatest height And a fire in the hearth, adds warmth throughout the night Outside, the snow flakes trickle their way down Trying to find a resting place, somewhere in town They bring a smile to ones face, while ridding a frown And magically clings on, like a glowing gown One must watch in silence, what is happening outside Pull the children around you, with their eyes opened wide Looking up toward the heavens for Santa’s sleigh ride Hoping he is bringing presents to where they abide Nearly everything is perfect at this time of the year Yet remembering friends who passed on with a tear They come into our thoughts without bringing a fear And a smile and a prayer to those we hold dear The blanket of white is now spread all around Anyone out there is mostly homebound Love is everywhere just waiting to be found Like the snow it has arrived without making a sound. Michael Christopher Daly Dec.20, 2008

The Car Mor

The Car Mor The nineteen fifties saw me arriving In New York the Car Mor was my savior after work On 207th street in the Inwood part of the City lay this Irish bar that was never really pretty It didn’t need to be as it was strictly a mans bar a little rough and tumble if you went too far But for most, it helped to get rid of ups and downs and changed heavy problems to just nagging frowns There were characters galore, mostly from the auld sod one sticks out in my memory and deserves my head nod His name was Mike Carmody, a carpenter by trade he didn’t get along with work, he preferred to read in the shade During sing song times he would close his eyes and push his head back as if looking at the skies The songs he chose were sad and quite long so one night we all left the bar in the middle of his song He was given it his all as we stole out the front door it was something that could happen, only in the Car Mor From the street outside we looked in at Carmody holding our sides laughing at this wonderful comedy As his song came toward the end with his arms stretched high we roared with more laughter as he opened one eye Realizing what had happened he began to rage and shout he quickly closed the front door and locked us all out Next he went inside the counter and from the top shelf took a bottle of Jamison’s and poured for himself We could not get back in, as he held the key while pouring from the bottle looking at us with glee The bartenders red face and the language from is mouth could be heard for miles through the north and south The police arrived, someone gave them a call they thought it was murder, until they heard it all They got through a window in the back of the bar and carried out Carmody to their police car The crowd took the blame as Mike slumped on the seat they carried him home and he fell asleep Michael Christopher Daly Dec.13, 2008

We Must Tell Her

We Must Tell Her Take me through your lovely meadows Take me through your fields of corn Let me rest awhile, upon your haystacks Let me taste and greet your morn Let me see your ocean waters Let me hear them lap, on your sandy shore, Let the sun break through night’s darkness Bringing morning to us once more Truth is we take it all for granted We expect to see it when we awake And if it rains instead of sunshine We blame her for the mistake Time keeps flashing by so quickly There is so little time to share We must thank old Mother Nature We must tell her that we care Michael Christopher Daly Dec. 9, 2008

Let Me Feel It Again

Let Me Feel It Again Oh, take me back to where it all began Down the road from St Johns Tower Where Sarsfield sits atop his mount One can feel his elegant power St Johns school around the corner Where the nuns demanded attention They were just as tough as the brothers And they loved to dish out detention St. Johns Cathedral was majestic And every seat was taken Even down each isle and at the back The rosary beads were shaken It was hard to believe as you looked around At some of the people you see there Some were there to be seen by all And many had their minds elsewhere Outside the church door were collectors Seated at the table to welcome you in And you dropped your pennies or a little more If you didn’t, it would be a sin There was also a collection inside They pushed the basket under your nose For the weekly envelope they sent you That’s how one side of life goes The parishioners all around the town Were poor but they didn’t show it They managed to get along on what they had Helping each other out, when they could do it Then the good times came as technology grew When the business world came into the towns Now here am I, an ocean away, With memories, of our ups and downs Michael Christopher Daly Nov, 27, 2008

And I love you too

We were after playing a Rugby match Against Glaswegians in Galway bay It was back in the early fifties On a bright and windy day We won by twenty points to twelve And stayed late admiring the Bay I had rented a car with my old friend My scrum-half Nutty O’Dea We enjoyed our walk along the sand Having fun with some of the girls Two of then came from Limerick With smiles that envied pearls We had asked them how they got here They said on a bus to attend a dance We agreed t drive them home As we would stay on and go to the dance Sea Point was the name of the dance hall Where all the best bands played And Mick Delahunty was playing that night And we were delighted that we stayed We danced and talked until midnight Never asking each others last name Susan hooked up with me And Nutty with Mary Jane Susan’s parents were away for the weekend So she invited us to have something to eat I knocked over a glass off water On my shirt and allover my feet Susan helped to me take off my shirt And hung it close to the fire in the living room We sat on the couch and began to smooch Nutty and Mary Jane, in the other room Suddenly a key to the front door clicked And the lights were turned on Susan’s parents shouted in alarm Wanting to know what was going on There was I with their daughter on the couch Without shoe’s or even a shirt My head bent down, eyes to the floor, And I was feeling, awfully hurt To top it all, when I saw her father With his eyes popping out of his head He had been my math teacher in school And I just sat there, wishing I was dead I was the wise guy in his class And there had been no love between us Mary Jane came in from the other room And it seemed to lessen all the fuss She asked me if my shirt had dried So I could take her home And told a story of how helpful I was When they missed the bus, I drove them home Nutty O’Dea got out the back door And sneaked away down the street And waited there for Mary Jane and me To take him off his feet I never met Susan or Mary Jane Since that Memorable day For certain Susan was warned by her father From me, to stay away He certainly never liked the way That I used to carry on Sure it was only a time of Innocence One day in a lifetime’s song Michael Christopher Daly Nov. 29, 2008

Innocence

We were after playing a Rugby match Against Glaswegians in Galway bay It was back in the early fifties On a bright and windy day We won by twenty points to twelve And stayed late admiring the Bay I had rented a car with my old friend My scrum-half Nutty O’Dea We enjoyed our walk along the sand Having fun with some of the girls Two of then came from Limerick With smiles that envied pearls We had asked them how they got here They said on a bus to attend a dance We agreed t drive them home As we would stay on and go to the dance Sea Point was the name of the dance hall Where all the best bands played And Mick Delahunty was playing that night And we were delighted that we stayed We danced and talked until midnight Never asking each others last name Susan hooked up with me And Nutty with Mary Jane Susan’s parents were away for the weekend So she invited us to have something to eat I knocked over a glass off water On my shirt and allover my feet Susan helped to me take off my shirt And hung it close to the fire in the living room We sat on the couch and began to smooch Nutty and Mary Jane, in the other room Suddenly a key to the front door clicked And the lights were turned on Susan’s parents shouted in alarm Wanting to know what was going on There was I with their daughter on the couch Without shoe’s or even a shirt My head bent down, eyes to the floor, And I was feeling, awfully hurt To top it all, when I saw her father With his eyes popping out of his head He had been my math teacher in school And I just sat there, wishing I was dead I was the wise guy in his class And there had been no love between us Mary Jane came in from the other room And it seemed to lessen all the fuss She asked me if my shirt had dried So I could take her home And told a story of how helpful I was When they missed the bus, I drove them home Nutty O’Dea got out the back door And sneaked away down the street And waited there for Mary Jane and me To take him off his feet I never met Susan or Mary Jane Since that Memorable day For certain Susan was warned by her father From me, to stay away He certainly never liked the way That I used to carry on Sure it was only a time of Innocence One day in a lifetime’s song Michael Christopher Daly Nov. 29, 2008

Just A Second

There's that sound again And I think it is a crime It reminds me of our life span Just ticking all the time We also have minutes and hours but they don't make a sound Passing along through day and night just looking to be found And what about weeks and months that adds up to the years When I think of all of this It brings me down to tears A second a minute, an hour a day A week a month a year It all begins with a second That ticking sound we hear Our lives stop at a certain time No matter how we've reckoned And the ticking sound will stop for us When we don't have another second

"THE BROGUES"

Once upon a time in the green, green land of Rogues There lived a clan of little people, called Brogues Brogue was a lilting language that enhanced the spoken word And brought a smile to ones face, whenever it was heard They lived within the forests, inside a ring of trees Quite content to stay that way, in a life of perfect ease They dressed in colors of the land, of course that was green Which in itself was security, they were never really seen On the toe of their shoe, hung a little bell, that only they could hear And when they heard that little tinkle, they would totally disappear Inside the ring of trees, they lived with crocks of gold They found it all beneath the earth, at least that’s what I was told A Brogue went astray one day, as he woke up from a long sleep His surroundings were unfamiliar to him and he began to weep He shook his leg in a call for help; he thought he would be found He was too far away, from the ring of trees, for them to hear his sound He was also outside the forest, unprotected from being seen That is how I met him, so tiny and clothed in green I didn’t want to scare him; I whispered and said “Hello” He looked up at me with teary eyes that seemed to say, ”Please Go” Instead I sat beside him, totally amazed at what I was seeing And I told him I wanted to help him, just like another human being He asked if I could get him back, to where you don’t grow old In return he would reward me with, one big crock of gold We rambled on through the forest, until we found the ring of trees Once he stepped inside, everything was green and I was on my knees I was all alone, he was gone and this part I have never told There in front of me just beneath a tree, was a sparkling crock of gold Michael Christopher Daly April 20,2008

WHY?

I just sat there staring In the fox hole that we shared We dug it out last night In the dark with vision impaired Mike, Joe and I wondered If the enemy was anywhere near We had lost our way in the mountains After being cut off from the rear I decided to scout around They told me to watch out for my head And when I squirmed back to the Hole Only to find my two friends dead I had not heard a sound And I must say I was scared But to think that my scouting venture Had to do with my life being spared I began to lift their heads While holding back a tear Only to see their heads fall back Necks cut from ear to ear Then the morning exploded around me As I stayed with my friends on the ground I listened to the bombs that were falling And I recognized their familiar sound After two more hours in the foxhole I was pulled out and still stared Trying to understand this happening And Why was it I that was spared. Michael Christopher Daly April 18, 2008

Stardom

Stardom, Recognition, goes together Yet, are distant in every way In years gone by, you needed talent And a life style without going astray Stardom is not a given right It is earned in the profession one chooses Through dedication and hard work They become winners and seldom losers The stars were put on pedestals Helped us forget our strife While all the time just acting Trying to portray real life That’s the way it was So many long years ago When we fell in love with them Before and after each show But today they reach Stardom Doing whatever they please While writers and producers Issue scripts so full of sleaze Many have found Recognition Through booze and drugs as well When they are pulled over They tell authority to “Go To Hell” We certainly deserve better To pass on to our youth We need those old time ethics To stand along with truth But we the fans are also at fault We pay to see their every move Maybe we should hold back somewhat Until their lives improve Michael Christopher Daly April 18, 2008

Sacred Ground

Back Clare Street is where it stands today, the Wild Geese is the name of the bar Where good people get together at night, for entertainment and a good old jar It was one of my few visits home and old friends shaking hands all night With stories galore being told, until the dimming of the lights It was then that I remembered, what was here before they sold beer When I was really a youngster, we played snooker and billiards, right here I went outside to look and confirm, that my memory was still quite sound Then faces and names took over my head, I was standing on sacred ground There was many a prank, set up in there and it was always done in a funny way But one prank I recall, outside this door, when Jer Sarsfield was caught in disarray There was an argument at the billiard table and Jer was in the midst of the brawl Until three of the guys he was arguing with, pulled him out into the hall They pulled off his shoes and socks, as well as his Sunday’s long pants Then pushed him outside the door, he answered with self thought rants Boys didn’t wear briefs or shorts, we didn’t know about things like that What do you do when your pants is gone and your shirt wouldn’t reach your lap It just happened in early afternoon, when workers came home for lunch Girls on bikes trying to get a good look, crashed into each other in a bunch Now to end this bit about the Sacred Ground, something that I never knew This was the site of a learning place, remembered by a very few I became quite attached to this site; I wouldn’t normally, as a rule This Bar was once called Broderick’s, where my dad had attended school. Michael Christopher Daly April15, 2008

The Brothers of Sexton Street

Innocent times growing up, when the bird was on the wing
I always thought that wrong because the wing was on the bird
School was all about learning, they pounded it in every day
Those Christian Brothers on Sexton Street, believed it was the only way

They wore the cleric outfit with the pockets down to their knees
In there they kept thick leather straps and it wasn’t for swatting bees
Those leather straps were shaped at the top, to easily fit in their hand
Two leather pieces sewn together, they really should have been banned

I do not know if our parents were aware, the brothers had this learning tool
And they used it without hesitation, apparently approved by the school
Now the brothers had problems of their own and at times were angry men
They got rid of their rage and anger, while using their straps on us, Amen

During the early to mid forties, us young ones let our sideburns grow
It was just a youthful rebellious thing, a way for us to crow
We knew it annoyed the brothers; our parents didn’t seem to mind
So we continued to flaunt it, without any thoughts of being unkind

It felt good going into class, knowing we had found redemption
Until one particular brother, found a way to get our attention
He would sneak up behind your bench, grab hold of that growing hair
Then yank you out of your seat, as the pain had nothing to compare

Today they have better methods, leather straps are gone as a tool
Students and teachers get together, helping each other through school
Well, I certainly remember their teaching, back when the leather was in
It is a part of my life’s foundation, though I didn’t think so back then

Michael Christopher Daly
April 2, 2008

Many Years Ago

Many years ago, in the Celtic land of Ireland Limerick was my City and I called it My Land Alive was what we were in every sport we played They kept us fit and busy, not many of us strayed It was parish against parish and the lines were drawn On the day of a game, fans were ready at dawn Songs about the parish, could be heard for miles around And those that had passed on could feel the shaking ground There were plenty of characters, who told their stories well But kept them clean and funny, not wanting to go to hell With a lot of wait to game time, they would meet for a jar In the home away from home, in the local public bar Hurling and Gaelic football were the recognized national games Rugby and Soccer were foreign and had the GAA in flames But to the fans, all was right and they loved all sports indeed Each game was discussed in the bar, no matter what the creed There was a Rugby match played one day, held in Thomond Park A team from Limerick was pitted against, a team from down in Cork It was a hard fought battle, as the fans kept up their cheer One player from the Cork side left the field, with only one ear Bandaged up quite nicely, He went looking for the telegram place To let the home town know who won, he didn’t want to loose face He formed the worded message, so they would understand the ravage So he penned: “We won the match, but I was eaten by a savage” So the home team lost, but the bars were still open They became filled up again with many signs of emotion Closing time at the bar, just created that extra strife Married fans homeward bound, must now meet the wife There was Mary Ann’s store, on Old Clare Street Where lots of pig’s heads were sold and also pig’s feet Many a marriage was saved, by the sign on her window aglow With a few simple words that read: “Take Her Home a Toe” Michael Christopher Daly April 10th,2008

The Ice Creram Carts

The Ice Cream Carts

“Oh,” to be that young again, especially in the spring
When the bee’s awakened early, ready to test their sting
The world seemed so happy and the sun began to shine
Greetings were offered all around and that was just fine

The ice cream carts were ready and we began to race
To where jingled bells were heard in their parking space
We crowded round the cart, with the white clad man inside
We ogled at all he had to offer and we wouldn’t be denied

Young voices could be heard, shouting up into the air
Calling to their mothers, for whatever they could spare
The mothers searched the coffee cans for enough to fill a cone
It was a time long ago when dad worked and mom stayed at home

We savored each lick around the cone and up its ice cream hill
Trying to prolong the tasty feast with all of our youthful skill
We spoke very little to one another as our taste buds were on high
We tried to shelter our precious gift from the sun up in the sky

“Oh,” to be that young again, especially in the spring
When the bee’s awakened early, ready to test their sting
Yes, mom was always only a shout away, when we played in the street
And seemed to be able to have the scents to give us this ice cream treat

Michael Christopher Daly
April 7th, 2008

An Invitation

Come visit me by the ocean Enjoy the sounds that belong there With the sun on guard o’er the waters And the birds whistling songs in the air It is here that you cannot be moody Your troubles are best left behind Our faces are mapped by our smiles And our friendship is easy to find You don’t have to be rich to enjoy it All you need is the time it requires To stretch out underneath an umbrella Relax and review your desires It is then that you will hear the sounds As it ebbs and recedes in its motion Orchestrated by the Maestro’s hand The music that belongs to the Ocean Come visit with me by the Ocean Obtain the cures for the mind You, will be amazed at the outcome Going home in a refreshed state of mind Michael Christopher Daly April 4th, 2008

An Ode To The Feet

It appears that we needed more speed As we wanted to get everywhere real fast I never could understand the reasoning Except maybe nobody wanted to be last There were few cars on the road back then Bicycles were the mode of transportation The horse and cart was also there And could get you to your destination But most of us didn’t have these things And we really didn’t need all that speed Our legs were our cheapest transportation They cost nothing and fulfilled our need They carried us through all kinds of weather Walking over mountains and streams Only asking that we sit down for a few moments And let the mind take their place in our dreams They came in many different shapes That helped us walk in all different ways And in the night their only request Was to rest them for the following day So now the reason for a poem like this To make us think well, of our feet To be kind to them that carries our weight And stop stamping them out on the street Michael Christopher Daly April 3rd, 2008

Do Not Forget Him

How dare I ask for God to help me I who has forgotten him in life I who has lost the road toward his house Now looking for help in my strife Where else can one turn to When all their friends are gone When all life’s music has stopped And all the songs went along Alone is where one is Left with a struggling mind With memories popping in and out And the good ones pretty hard to find How dare I ask God to help me When I remember all the promises I made For all the good things he gave me And he asked for nothing in trade The knife is still in my hand It appears to be the best thing to do And I hope that you can forgive me If ever I get the chance to see you A sudden shock hits my body I awake filled with sweat and steam I see in the mirror I’m still alive I have survived this terrible dream Michael Christopher Daly March 30, 2008

MEMORY OF A FRIENDSHIP

The morning had that fresh crisp feeling; the eyelids forced open the eyes I just didn't know where I was and the birds sang without any noise There was peace all around, which kept me from rising too fast It was a calm that covered the body, which was perfect to recall the past My mind hurtled back in time, when I went on an Irish vacation It had been ten years since the last one and twenty since my Emigration There had been many modern changes, for the better it was easy to see But no changes could be seen here, In Gods haven, the town called "KillKee" I am fully awakened at last after driving here the day before To find my old childhood friend, to hang around with once more We walked the Strand that morning, Cyril Downes and I by the sea Recalling so many old friends, who used to come here, "Killkee" Last night we went to his pub, t'was after a swim in the ocean We left footprints on the sand along with some tears of emotion We were welcomed by the crowd, Cyril sang " An Old Cowpoke"and "Raw Hide" He became the MC for the evening and I went along for the ride I had to leave the next day; our time together had run out As we waved at each other in silence, that's what friendship is all about Times like this, are etched in my memory; I look back on them with glee Thank God for giving me this one, My friend Cyril, Killkee and Me