Author Archives: beam

Business-As-Usual Undresses The Nation

Pandemic ended Thursday
when I sniffed ket off your tits
and shouted ‘’giddy up bitch’’

we’re again trying to gain Leo’s respect
so let’s get up on that Monday morning
and hit it harder than a body
hits the bottom of a k-hole
none of this free medicine,
right to housing,
dole

none of that now
back at it again,
capitalism is friend

if we live stream the vulture funds
slapping Micheáls arse in the backroom
(at lunchtime of course)
we can increase revenue by fifteen percent,
open the jaws of the landlords
and get them to regurgitate that again,
(à la baby bird)

this circulated money
fifteen times reseen
but never heard of
or wrote down
just miraculously
moved around
will benefit you
normal people

exactly like the show, yes,
now back to work little labourers,
no talking between yourselves.

beam

beam is a 26 year old poet. She has participated in workshops led by Kevin Higgins, read at Galway City’s Literary Organisation event called Over The Edge and has been published in Cabinet Of Heed, ImpspiredLothlorien Poetry JournalSpilling Hot Cocoa Over Martin Amos, Open Skies, WordCityLit &Ink Sweat and Tears. Recent work includes; surviving the pandemic and several disappointing sourdough loaves. You can find more of her poetry @personalbeam on instagram.

RollingNews

What Harm

Dunno
Sure look
What harm?
How bad?

Aragh musha
God love ya
Notions
Where wouldja be goin?

Have you nothing else to be at?
What are ya at?
What are ya like?
Something else

Isn’t that it?
Wouldja believe it?
Couldja’ve called that wan?

Don’t be ringing me
I’m not here

Where is she going with that?

Fine
I’m fine
I’m grand Mam!
Wouldja stop
Go away

G’way
G’way with that
GO ONNNNNNN!

G’wan
G’wan yourself
G’wan my-absolute-self

Yeow
Yurt
Less hurt more yurt, more skirt
Nothing new to that fella only the cake

I hope that’s a Flake!
Excuse me, did you just put a Twirl in my 99?
That is a mortal sin as well as a crime
You better fix that or I’ll have to get my hurl,
you can absolutely fuck off with your ‘Twirl’.

beam

beam is a 26 year old poet. She has participated in workshops led by Kevin Higgins, read at Galway City’s Literary Organisation event called Over The Edge and has been published in Cabinet Of Heed, ImpspiredLothlorien Poetry JournalSpilling Hot Cocoa Over Martin Amos, Open Skies, WordCityLit &Ink Sweat and Tears. Recent work includes; surviving the pandemic and several disappointing sourdough loaves. You can find more of her poetry @personalbeam on instagram.

RollingNews


The Director Of Provision Shites On As The Tractor Runs

there’s no place like home
says I, the Director of provision
the heat that beats down along the equator is cruel
but the rain in Ireland can be crueller, you say I’m some fool
that I do believe in God but I’m afraid of rainbows well weather
is natural or unnatural depending on whether it makes good Turf

there is nothing and I mean nothing, that can bate the Turf
you won’t find the likes when ye get home
lads, and it’s all because whether
or not ye have the means of provision
the likelihood of becoming the fool
who goes back through Judges decision is cruel

t’is close it’s highly likely your cruel
entitlement to my country and my Turf
would make me take it out on you don’t fool
yourself I’ll give you a scaldin’ you can carry all the way back home
be that bus, plane or shipwreck, feck provision
I’ll give you breakneck, hightide, Godspeed weather

whatever you decide will weather
your face to leather and the cruel
-ty of the direct provision
of neglect will burn a hole the Turf
couldn’t even dream of. Go home.
that golden neon turning in the hearth is making a fool

of you, seducing you, using your fool
-hardy head to lead you to expect a fair-weather
friend in court, but us, we who are Home
we have known an eight hundred year occupation of Cruel
we turned bitterness to shame from those who ruled, Turf
was the only thing that was our own Our only provision

was kept at anything worthless, so provision
in our ears sounds like ‘’shirtless’’ or fool
maggot, blight, dirt. Yurt a Mhac, the Turf
is what has turned us into monsters, the weather
is the only God who answers us now, so hear cruel
exactly as it’s meant the only emotion still in us, not on us, home.

let me turn my Turf to the God of leaving cert weather
and the other provision, petrol or diesel fool?
You have asylum sucked at the wrong teat and entered into a land called Cruelty, go home.

beam

beam is a 26 year old woman from Galway. A new poet and a recent MA graduate, beam is working on her first collection after being published on Spilling Hot Cocoa Over Martin Amis. Recent work includes: ‘surviving the pandemic and several disappointing sourdough loaves’. You can find more of her poetry @personalbeam on instagram.

Previously: beam on Broadsheet

RollingNews

Dublin city centre

Millennial Artist With A Masters Degree Attempts
To Enter The Workforce And/Or Buy A House

Starter pack:
A) Rich parents (if you cannot attain this, skip to part F).

Other options:
B) Pay more money to train better so you aren’t worthless.

C) Educate those around you to appreciate the necessity of art. Please note: you may lose friends and family who (let’s face it) have real jobs, that paid for the little Arts Council funded thing you did, that one time.

D) Create something so intoxicatingly commercially brilliant that it impresses those you lost in part C but ironically only just covers what you paid for part B.

E) You haven’t gotten this far and still thought I’d have any advice for the ‘’buy a house’’ bit, did you? Oh honey, refer to part A.

F) Kill yourself.

beam

beam is a 26 year old woman from Galway. A new poet and a recent MA graduate, beam is working on her first collection after being published on Spilling Hot Cocoa Over Martin Amis. Recent work includes: ‘surviving the pandemic and several disappointing sourdough loaves’. You can find more of her poetry @personalbeam on instagram.

RollingNews

A message for Pope Francis in Dublin City Centre during the Pontiff’s visit to Ireland in August 2018

Dear, Oh Dear, Roman Catholic Church

Unrelenting cherisher of my baptismal cert.
You site historical reasons
but I know it’s more than that for you
maybe because I’m young,
historically you’ve liked that too

Unfortunately I have to go,
though it brings a tear to Gods eye
I am retracting my membership
from this book club gone awry

I have googled how to leave and conceded,
it’s way too long to read.
So I came across a site I understand
‘How to be excommunicated for dummies’
(and millennials, the two go hand in hand)

I don’t really want to physically attack the Pope
but if it has to be done
I can rally some antifa communists,
when you need help to decentralise
and redistribute a patriarchal power
– they’re the one

I could reject the authority of the Pope
or celebrate the eucharist for show
confer sacraments to myself,
or give schism or apostasy a go

I could interpret a foreign confession
and tell somebody else
if I’d ever properly learned another language
(yeah, this one may not be of help)

I suppose I could have an abortion,
if I wasn’t a lesbian
even Jesus Christ himself
couldn’t bring me that close to men

I could violate the confessional seal
but my vegan friends would not be impressed.
Heresy I can definitely do,
‘It’s a mortal sin to be underdressed’.

I’m sad as I write this,
I enabled you so long
to hurt already vulnerable people
and then tell them they are wrong

If God exists, he’s gonna be pissed,
especially at you big P
there are things that you’ll have to change
but it will not be with me.

beam

beam is a 26 year old woman from Galway, a new poet and a recent MA graduate. beam is working on her first collection after being published on Spilling Hot Cocoa Over Martin Amis. Recent work includes: ‘surviving the pandemic and several disappointing sourdough loaves’. You can find more of her poetry @personalbeam on instagram.

RollingNews