Daily Archives: November 19, 2013


Ireland today: ba-NAMA-land

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There was a Taoiseach, quite bad,

Who told us one day we were mad,

That we borrowed too much,

And with reality had lost touch,

I say it is he, not us, who is MAD.



ba-NAMA-land postage stamp



He thought he saw a politician,

Who lived the perfect life,

He looked again, and saw it was,

A huge, humongous lie.

That’s it, he said, I realise,

The foolishness of life. 


He thought he saw an honest man,

Within the parliament,

He looked again, and saw it was,

Another bloated blimp.

Unless they leave this house, he said,

There will be no hope, I think. 


He thought he saw a banker man,

Who made an honest buck,

He looked again, and saw he was,

Entwined in all the muck.

If I were king, he said,

His head would be on the block. 


He thought he saw a banker’s clerk,

A man of honest youth,

He looked again, and saw he was,

A succubus forsooth.

If he should stay, he said, for sure,

My savings I will lose. 


He thought he saw a kangaroo,

Hopping down the street one day,

He looked again, and saw it was,

A banker’s ill gained pay.

Were I to accept this, he said,

It would be a dark, dark day. 


He though he saw a limousine,

With groom and bride, so sweet,

He looked again, and saw it was,

The country on its knees.

We’re lost, he said, the country’s bust,

Kaput, no more, deceased. 


 He though he saw a shaft of light,

That shone through all this gloom,

He looked again, and saw it was,

The cold, reflected moon.

If I were young, he said aloud,

I’d make them swing – and soon! 


He though he saw a chink of light,

A way from all this mess,

He looked again, and saw it was,

Their New World Order – yes!

Their ways are bad, corrupt, he said

For them, not us, excess. 


He thought he saw the final words,

Inscribed upon a sheet,

He looked again, and saw it was,

Them sweating from the heat.

They thought us fools, he sorely said,

Come on, we’ve lives to lead.


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Posted by on November 19, 2013 in Ireland


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Old Troll Bolf

Old Troll Bolf was an ugly old Troll,

And an ugly old troll was he.

He called for his wife, An ugly old sight,

And he called for his children three.

Every child was an ugly young child,

And a n ugly young child was he.

There’s none so rare or can compare,

To Troll Bolf and his children, three.



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The Saga of Darren Shan – Cirque du Freak

The Saga of Darren Shan – Cirque du Freak

I  really enjoyed reading this book.


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Harry Rotter: Chapter Four

Harry Rotter

Chapter Four

Secrecy, at Any Cost

Next morning, Harry, knocking softly on Box’s bedroom door, whispered, “Box, are you awake?”

“Hmm, what is it?” he sleepily replied.

“I said, are you awake?”

“What time is it?” Box asked, while rubbing his eyes.

“It’s half past six.”

“Half past six, are you sure?” Box asked, unwilling to believe that even she would consider awakening him at so early an hour. Reaching for his glasses on the bedside locker, and then grabbing hold of his watch, Box looked at it, and saw that it was indeed that time.

“Yes, I am sure of it,” said Harry, though louder this time. “Are you getting up or do I have to send off for that snake, again?”

Remembering the snake, and what it had done to him, Box jumped out of bed, and said, “I am getting up – I really am!”



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Merry Princessmas

Merry Christmas

Or should that be Merry Princessmas?


Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from the Crazymad Writer


Harry Rotter

Chapter One

No, Our Best China’s in There!       




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A Christmas Fairytale

A Christmas Fairytale

 Christmas Eve so still I know,

But something’s in the wind,

There’s a sense of magic about,

It’s now we need our friends.



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