I once had a pain in my toe,
That would come and then it would go,
That’s how it stayed for all of my days,
The pain at the end of my toe.
A note: I don’t have a pain my my toe anymore.
I don’t have any toes, not even one.
You see, I have gone to heaven.
There was once a little girl who was very wilful and who never obeyed when her elders spoke to her – so how could she be happy?
One day she said to her parents, ‘I have heard so much of the old witch that I will go and see her. People say she is a wonderful old woman, and has many marvellous things in her house, and I am very curious to see them.’
But her parents forbade her going, saying, ‘The witch is a wicked old woman, who performs many godless deeds – and if you go near her, you are no longer a child of ours.’
The girl, however, would not turn back at her parents’ command, but went to the witch’s house. When she arrived there the old woman asked her:
‘Why are you so pale?’
‘Ah,’ she replied, trembling all over, ‘I have frightened myself so with what I have just seen.’
‘And what did you see?’ inquired the old witch.
‘I saw a black man on your steps.’
‘That was a collier,’ replied she.
‘Then I saw a gray man.’
‘That was a sportsman,’ said the old woman.
‘After him I saw a blood-red man.’
‘That was a butcher,’ replied the old woman.
‘But, oh, I was most terrified,’ continued the girl, ‘when I peeped through your window, and saw not you, but a creature with a fiery head.’
‘Then you have seen the witch in her proper dress,’ said the old woman. ‘For you I have long waited, and now you shall give me light.’
So saying the witch changed the little girl into a block of wood, and then threw it on the fire. When it was fully alight, she sat down on the hearth and warmed herself, saying:
‘How good I feel! The fire has not burned like this for a long time!’
An intern was sent to collect a new skeleton from the central store.
When he arrived at the consultant surgeon’s office there was already
a queue of patients waiting. As the intern wrestled the skeleton through
the outside door he became aware of people gazing at him enquiringly.
He gave them a smile and said, ‘I am bringing him to the doctor.’
An old lady said sympathetically, ‘My dear! Isn’t he a bit late for the doctor?’
Halloween Pumpkin
Aliens Landed in Ballykilduff,
Aliens landed; that is a fact,
In the dark of the night it happened, it did,
At the end of my garden they landed, then hid.
Breda, dear Breda, wake up, will you please?
Something is happening, and I am all in a tizz!
Leave me alone, she answered, I’m beat,
With those words on her lips, she fell fast asleep.
Donning my gown and slippers I left,
Her sleeping soundly as into the kitchen I crept,
Searching for light; a torch, my best friend,
Then into the garden I stealthily went.
Down the long garden, man and torch progressed,
Then i climbed over the fence, into the field with its guests,
Pointing my torch at the little green men,
I saw Aliens a plenty around a flying saucer, broken.
What are they doing? I mused out aloud,
Signalling my place, my location — and how,
Pointing their guns, the Aliens zapped me with rays,
Blue, yellow, green, orange and grey.
Thinking my time was finished, all gone,
I fell to the ground, awaiting the final anon,
Sorry about that, one of them said, helping me up,
We thought you were a cow, wanting to gobble us up.
What are you doing? I asked, with curious eyes,
Seeing them cutting grass, then taking it inside,
We are refuelling our spaceship, he told me aloud,
We get a light year per armful, he told me so proud.
That’s amazing, I said, can I go see inside?
Sorry, he answered, it’s too small for your like,
Laughing, I said, is there anything you need?
Yes, he told me forthrightly, can we have some tea?
Tea? I asked, you drink tea way up there,
In outer space with its atmosphere rare?
No, silly, he replied, it’s to pour down our boots,
We never travel with them empty — it’s the truth.
You pour tea down your boots? I laughed aloud,
What does it do, make you fly like a bird?
It does, he answered, how did you know that fact?
Was your mother or father an alien, or even the cat?
Just then I heard something, someone calling to me,
Gerrard, wake up, its morning; here is your tea,
Opening my eyes, I saw Breda my wife,
Offering the cup of plenty, tea; it’s my life.
Where are my boots? I asked, still half sleep,
I want them, I need them; oh where are they please?
They are under the bed, here, she said, offering them to me,
Why do you want them before drinking your tea?
Accepting the boots, I poured in the tea,
What on earth are you doing? she asked warily,
I don’t go anywhere, I told her, without filling them first,
Can I have another cup, I asked, because I sure have a thirst.
The moral of my story is this:
Avoid Ballykilduff, give it a miss,
For strange things are happening there,
Aliens in boots filled with tea, fixing their flying saucer, so rare.
Skytrain, high train, charging, charging,
Fly train – my train; harken, harken,
To its whistle, blowing, blowing,
Life’s so fast; it’s going, going,
Ebbing from our bodies, groaning,
As Time’s cold scythe cuts through the gloaming
*
Listen, listen – I hear it calling,
Ignore it at your peril – warning!
Before your days are gone and over,
Join me in this bright sky rover
And across the heavens we’ll travel, listening,
To the sounds of eternity whispering,
Within our hearts, our chi resplendent,
At one with god; in peace never ending. Amen.
***************************
St Michen’s Church vaults, Dublin
Are you BRAVE enough to go see them?
I want to eat your brains,
That’s what I said,
I want to eat your brains,
Until you are dead.
I am a zombie; it’s what I do,
Eating brains all night through.
**********
In the morning,
When I’ m nice and full,
Of lovely brains and blood, so cool,
I will go to bed and sleep it off,
Until the evening when I’ll want some more.
**********
Ghost House
by Robert frost
I dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many a summer ago,
And left no trace but the cellar walls,
And a cellar in which the daylight falls,
And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow.
*
O’er ruined fences the grape-vines shield
The woods come back to the mowing field;
The orchard tree has grown one copse
Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;
The footpath down to the well is healed.
*
I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
On that disused and forgotten road
That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart.
*
The whippoorwill is coming to shout
And hush and cluck and flutter about:
I hear him begin far enough away
Full many a time to say his say
Before he arrives to say it out.
*
It is under the small, dim, summer star.
I know not who these mute folk are
Who share the unlit place with me—
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar.
*
They are tireless folk, but slow and sad,
Though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad,—
With none among them that ever sings,
And yet, in view of how many things,
As sweet companions as might be had.
**********
As bonkers as conkers, that’s what I say
As bonkers as conkers, Halloween fray,
Fun times and blood times are coming, for sure,
Bonkers as conkers furor.
**********
There once was a crazy ghost over Poughkeepsie way that got folks so plumb scared that nobody would stay more than one night in its house. It was a nice old place, or was, until the ghost began making its presence known. It got so no one would enter the house, not even kids on a dare, and you know what they are like!
Now when my friend Joe heard a fancy old house in Poughkeepsie was selling dirt cheap, he decided to go have a look. He asked me about it and I told him about the spook, but Joe just laughed. “I don’t believe in ghosts,” he said and went to visit the agent selling the house.
Well, the agent gave Joe a key, but refused to look at the old house with him, which should have told Joe something. But Joe’s a stubborn man who won’t listen to reason. He even waited until after dark to visit the house for the first time, just to prove his point.
Joe got to the house around nine p.m. and he entered the front hallway. It was a large entrance and well-proportioned, but neglected-looking, with creepy cobwebs and dust everywhere. As Joe paused near the door to get his bearings, he heard a thump from the top of the staircase facing him. A glowing leg appeared out of nowhere and rolled down the steps, landing right next to Joe’s feet. Joe gasped out loud and stood frozen to the spot. An arm appeared and rolled down to meet the leg. Next came a foot, then another arm, then a hand. Glowing pieces of body kept popping into existence and plummeting down the steps towards Joe.
Joe held his ground a lot longer than anyone else ever had, but when a screaming head appeared at the top of the steps and started rolling towards him, Joe had had enough. With a shriek that could wake the dead – those that weren’t already up and haunting the house that is – Joe ran for his life; out of the house, out of the street, and right out of town, leaving his car behind him.
He called me the next day and asked me to drive his car down to the hotel where he had spent the night. Joe was headed back to Manhattan and refused to come within fifty miles of Poughkeepsie ever again. The agent gave up trying to sell the house after that, and the house fell into ruin and was eventually torn down.
Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot…
********************
A penny for the Guy
I am a Vampire, she said staring at him,
A very old Vampire, you can tell by my skin,
My eyes and expression give also a hint,
And my pointed, sharp teeth give more than a hint.
*
I can see by your skin, he answered, I do,
And also your eyes and expression; it’s true,
But the stare on your face has cast a strange spell,
Making me trust you, despite not feeling well.
*
Still staring at him, the Vampire replied,
You’d never believe me; you’d think I had lied,
If the stare on my face was gone; it’s a fact,
No one would trust this salty old Cat.
*
Without offering him a chance to reply,
The Vampire went on with her horrible lie,
Then, creeping closer, so close to the deck,
She pounced, lashed out, and bit his bare neck.
*
Feeling the hurt and the blood running down,
He said, Oh, I was such a clown,
To have trusted a Vampire because of her look,
Drained of all blood, my life is forsook!
I am hungry, so hungry for sustenance this day,
While resting, asleep in my coffin, away,
From sunlight, the bane of my death, I say,
Until darkness returns when I have my foul way,
Drinking freely of blood to save my decay,
Grim Reaper’s cold scythe cast firmly at bay.
