Just been told.
An active waiting list.
Congratulations may be in order
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
But really, where else would you find me?
Hardly on the passive one
Cos that doesn’t sound at all like me.
I’m the active dude
On the active list
That’s right, that’s cool, that’s just
That’s perfectly suited to me.
Another a ward
In a life that’s been full of on and off
For scallywagging Scallywagging
All across the universe.
Think we started out with politics
And a little bit of rock n roll
A dalliance with the Saatchi Bros
Before the toxic beauty of Cambodia
Took its inevitable toll
Then somewhere between grim grim Bosnia
And Africa’s riotous machete glint glow
I just fucking ran
Full out of Kevlar
Kevlar for the soul
Now I need you back Mr Kevlar.
God I need you back real bad
Cos Kevin here has just been told
The a ward they have granted him
Is the very same one
To a wonderful sweet august person
That just happened to be
His dear dear Dad
That’s right you heard me
The same as my dear dear Dad
I don’t think I can overstate this
My dear dear Dad
Dear dear Dad
I miss you
Then I listen out
And catch his voice.
In its loving judicious tone
And he is saying
Don’t panic, relax now
My sweet sweet son
The Kevlar I can offer you
Is the fact you won’t be alone.
You won’t be alone
The recreation of a defensive barricade in Aleppo, Syria erected last year at the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin
I’m a Dublin dog
The sky ripped with Chinese explosion
I’m a cat in Idlib
howling at the bloody moon
crisscrossed by irate fighter
I am a Raqqa rat
Glad we stayed
Unlike Aleppo foxes scuttling away
Some now thinking of return
But to what?
Fleeing over greedy land, heartless sea, bitter border guard and always the indiscriminate baton
”Fuck off home’
Angry spitting crowds bearing batons.
Cowering, why why enough enough
Others came with care and clothing
To be fair
And we were suspicious
cos they sought nothing in return.
Suspicious of kindness
But not far the noise, the noise
‘FUCK OFF HOME’ they roared
‘Where is my home? Do I have a home?’ my friend asked.
Then he went into the trees
Into the silence
Then in the quiet of night
A small window lured him
Into the still grand life of Berlin’s fabled Pergamon
Before the dust
In all its quirky courtyard beauty
before the mosaic of madness
My dusty ruined friend
Here you are now .
Here we are now.
Both you and I together at last
at this forbidden time
This city that knows the destruction of ours.
I lie down and weep.
Amongst our pristine beauty
My roars, my tears, my howls, my art, my city, my country!
Roar as alarms shriek across Berlin city
And here some will say no gratitude
Other will pray for salvation.
Pray for salvation.
This Thursday at the Leeson Lounge, Upper Leeson Street, Dublin 2 at 8pm. Free
Poet Kevin writes:
It’s always a good mad mash up of music and word, an anarchic arc taking you from folk to rap, bards to beats. Money in hat. And a great night guaranteed. Kicks off 8pm this time because of the extensive line-up…
Soulful spoken wordsmith Kevin Barrington (of controversial cat women poem fame) and friends take to the informal stage of the Leeson Lounge, Leeson Street, Dublin to rant rave laugh and sing TOMORROW at 9pm.