Twas just after 12 at night in the Irish Village pub in Dubai, i had just finished a gig along with Billy my bass player, our drummer had been sent home, considered unclean for this kingdom, due a a polyp which was located in his anus region.
Standing at the bar having a pint of Guinness, up comes two english guys, as usual they need to take the piss out of the Irish…… Are you the two Irishmen who are always singing about ye’re mothers. what an opening line, i looked at one of them and turned away, i am not going to engage them in any sort of conversation;
Then one of them takes off his tie, and proceeds to pretend to strangle me, i rip the tie off him, and i trow it in a skip which was located outside the door of the pub,.
Later on when they had gone away, i meet a guy from the Lebanon, he tells me writes for a newspaper in Beirut, as the whiskey starts to go down, due to a challenge on his part to me, he becomes the worst for wear. everytime we have a shot, with his cheers he shoots an Israeli and i shoot any foreign soldier who tries to claim any part of Ireland for some far away barbaric nation.
It’s about 3 in the morning the drink is still going down albeit more slowly. in the wall cabinets are lots of old Irish stuff, such as musical instruments, books, and horse riding saddles ect, i take out one of the saddles and a winkers and i place them on the Lebanese guy who has all the time pretended to be a horse, now i get up on his back and he carries me round and round the bar room floor. as we pass the window i can see the two obnoxious english guys stareing through the window in amazement, i can hear one of them asking where is his tie. i am laughing; this is just another night fun on the music road..
Winds are blowing from the east, bringing unwelcome air, filled with unwanted particals. So what is it when a nose will run, and troath is dry. eyes are wet, Do i really deserve this.
The earth itself is drying, looking sort of barren, nothing wants to grow. yet the sun is shining. skies are blue.
So please send on the south west breeze, with its soft and gentle urges, its mist flowing across my face, as it lubricates leaves and all the fauna of this ever so dry place.
The evening was bright, with the sun goin down, i am treading across the country to destination Lios. i guess it should be lis, with a fada over the i; anyhow where there is now two roundabouts there once was a straight road, and the drummer of a band opened up a garage, He was eventually allowed to sell petrol.
Now its a string of garages, all competing for business, and as the cars pull in and out to fill up, across the road are fields and fields of cars, awaiting to be sold, but selling now is not possible;
And thats funny, because when we really were poor, i mean poor post famine, those same fields yielded good crops, and earned money, now the people who have nothing to do with those fields, and certainly don’t own them, have to pay through other ways.
Slan Go Foil.
Today is a special day, its a day i have never seen before, and i dont know how it will end, i know some people don’t care. But each new day is a special day.
Its hard for me to imajine a life without each day being new, what with the expectation of waking up, eating breakfast, breathing clean air, listening to the birds singing as i stroll through my life, another day in heaven;
If there is such a thing a blessed, then i am one, surrounded by thought-full people, aware as i am of their intentions, i breath easily, as i look back at waht was, what could have been, what i dreamed of, and my ever changing expectations, yes today is another special day;
Slan Go Foil.
It comes as no surprise that a wind will swirl, now we understand what makes the wind blow, perhaps we can see further than a breeze can reach.
It can shake the mountains, swell the oceans, and tear apart the ground, and everything on it. Yet it can be a pleasing experience to listen as it rustles the leaves on the trees.
Watch the birds as they glide effortlessly using the up-draught to sustain their energy free flying motion, see the flickering colours of flower petals as they warp and bend to the will of the wind;
Slan Go Foil
Its workers day….? what does that mean, i work everyday, you also work everyday, you even work while you are asleep; In times gone by, today was when everybody brought some sprig or two of whitethorn into their homes, to celebrate the start of summer, but now thats a forgotten thing to do,
So many other things are also forgotten and subsituted with tech; but i as a human have yet to smell a text, or watch a dew drop fall off a web page and be drank by an insect as it wanders through its busy working day;
Workers day, i must stop writeing, and go and do some work;
Slan Go Foil
So its april time in Ireland, Cork to be precise, its Wednesday 29th, grey skies, damp air, birds flying eratically in search of food.
Its almost time for my daily walk through the farm, perhaps i may meet some other walkers, perhaps not, due to the weather. `But i don’t mind the rain, as that’s the source of life, who am i to complain.
May is on the way and its a time when flowers begin their life cycle, seed to stem, stem to branch, branch to blosom, blossom to bloom, bloom to seed, and so the cycle is complete. need i say more.