Posts Tagged ‘Tim Prendeville’

The Godfather

When I was a kid

I used to visit you

And Betty too

On Cook Street

In Cork.

 

Cook Street,

One of those little streets one can find only in Ireland

And nowhere in America

Or anywhere else I’ve ever lived.

 

Your little watchmaker shop

Hidden away

Atop a winding third floor stairs

Hidden away

From most of the world

Yet known to all those who wore a watch,

That ticked

And tocked

All of days before life grew up

And became complicated.

 

How many times do you suppose I visited you there

Before my own travels began?

They were many.

I remember them all,

As if they were one long visit

One Long journey,

Or story

Now concluded.

 

     You were a bundle of life Michael … with many stories the same way told.  Today, you’re going on one more trip – when you get there, say “Hi” to those gone before you, from all of us still here … especially to those that went before their time … tell them we miss them … Have a good trip bubba …

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For Diarmuid

Donovans shop
The “Blacka” Bridge
French students in the summer time, that sent our teen minds to places as yet untraveled
Gerry Rafferty
Supertramp
ZZ Top
Cork Con
Shandon Boat Club
Now, 30 years down the road, these and so many more memories and places are all lost to time. I raced out of Ireland before any of life’s wrinkles came calling, and as it turns out, I’ve rarely looked back. To me, all of you remained the way I remember you the last time I saw you – and in quiet times, like now, it still usually fails to register with me that all of you grew up … had lives … and families … and good times … and bad times too – much like how my own life has gone. All too often now though, words from home are not good words – they chip away at that wall of invincibility I once perched upon – It doesn’t seem so high anymore … Diarmuid, I wanted to write these words tonight, before tomorrow – before your family lets you go … sleep well tonight my old friend – something new begins tomorrow … goodbye D …
© 2012, Tim Prendeville

Only Yesterdays

Oh the times we could have had

I’ve lived them all

Mostly by myself.

Sometimes a little too often

Or so I’ve been told.

Yet, they give me comfort.

Simply moving on is never an option

At least for a mother

And more so in times, a father too.

Most times

In my imaginings

You are grown

And it is Christmas time

Our favorite time of year

And the fire is blazing

The tea is poured

Our Christmas tree is lit

And warming our hands by the hearth

We sit in silence

Smiling

Remembering all the days that came before.

Sometimes a chuckle breaks the silence,

“Remember when …”

And a story begins

No doubt, events embellished by the years,

All the while sipping our tea.

Eating our biscuits.

Warming our hands.

And living in moments,

Never lived.

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

Christmas with Gene Autry and years gone by

Christmas is my favorite time of year … always has been.  When I was a kid, putting up the decorations in our home was my favorite time of year; and every year Gene Autry was on the record player … morning, noon, and night.  There came a time when I moved on from all those things, and didn’t listen to Gene Autry, didn’t decorate trees, and let Christmas come and go in stride.  I hoped the few times back home, over the years, that I could recapture some of the Christmas spirit that was there in my youth, but … it, and everyone, just like me, had moved on.  Not to say that those trips weren’t enjoyable; just not ideal.  There was still the little pin holes in the ceilings from years of hanging streamers, and looking at those always gave me a smile.  It wasn’t until Tara was born in 2002 that Gene Autry made a come back, and when Alyssa arrived in 2004, he was still going strong … indeed, he still is today … I’m on the return leg of my trip through life now, the nostalgia portion … what was in, that went out, is back in again … and long may it live … “Merry Christmas folks … where ever you may be” …

Worth a Christmas Spin …

http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=1D9CBDBEC0D5F983

 

Irishocity

www.irishocity.wordpress.com

www.youtube.com/user/irishocity

www.irishocity.com

www.facebook.com/timprendeville

www.timprendeville.com

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

Hindsights and Perceptions

Rain.
Days and days of rain.
Was it ever any other way?
All of those days,
Perpetual darkness and gloom.
Did the sun not ever shine?
It must have.
It must have.
Didn’t it?
I just don’t remember.
I just don’t.
Why is that I wonder?
All those years.
Even when I look back now,
It’s rain I remember
And nothing much else.
But I’m sure there must have been more.
Wasn’t there?

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

My Wife’s Family

A piece I wrote a year or so ago and was reminded of over the Christmas break, after a get together with my wife’s in-laws … it really should be taken with the proverbial grain of salt … for the most part they’re a good bunch of people and a lot of fun to be around … but as with all families, there are always times where harmony is hard to find …

Well I just got back from a trip down south
Where I met with some in-laws I can never figure out
Some of them are fine and some of them are not
And the rest are fine with alcohol
And lots and lots of pot

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

After 6 hours in a car driving though Los Angeles
Where the traffic can be murder and the smog a yellow haze
The kids all in the back crying “are we nearly there”
And the wife wrapped up in god knows what
Life is so unfair

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

Well I know I signed up for the long term marriage with my wife
And I know the preacher warned me that sometimes there would be strife
But If I knew back then the grief I’d have to put up with today
I’d run a thousand miles from here
Far far away

(chorus)
From family
Her crazy family
My wife’s family
Her crazy family

There’s an aunt that vacations there and she scares me so
My wife tries to tell me that she’s all a show
But I’ve seen her throw a look my way every now and then
That tells me that she hates me and I’m going straight to hell

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

There’s a cupboard in the kitchen that I run to now and then
It’s stacked and packed with alcohol which makes the trip real swell
I’m not alone at night time when the shots are flowing fast
I guess I’m not only in-law needing booze to outlast

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

Well I know I signed up for the long term marriage with my wife
And I know the preacher warned me that sometimes there would be strife
But If I knew back then the grief I’d have to put up with today
I’d run a thousand miles from here
Far far away

(chorus)
From family
My wife’s family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

I guess I’m stuck with all the in-laws that intrude from time to time
It’s no wonder that I drink and smoke and bitch and moan and whine
But from what I see and hear from all the other people that I know
It seems that in-laws are the same no matter where you go

(chorus)
Family
My wife’s crazy family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

Well I know I signed up for the long term marriage with my wife
And I know the preacher warned me that sometimes there would be strife
But If I knew back then the grief I’d have to put up with today
I’d run a thousand miles from here
Far far away

(chorus)
From family
My wife’s crazy family
My wife’s family
My wife’s crazy family

© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville

Every Now And Again

Every now and again
I look at you,
Captured there in a moment,
Smiling,
Mid sentence,
Mine,
The way I remember you.
And I think of those days
Those days
Those days when we were young,
Those days when all we needed,
And all we had,
Was each other and a dream

Every now and again
I think of late night talks,
And starry island nights
And promises made,
If not to you
At least to me,
And if not believed by you
At least by me,
Only to be dismissed in later days,
Alone,
And seen,
As you did back then,
As romantic notions
Dreamed of
In romantic places.

Every now and again
I look at you,
And wonder,
And pause,
And drift away,
And feel that old familiar feeling.
But all too soon it fades,
Surrendering to another pause,
One that reminds of today,
And yesterdays that are gone,
Put away like your photographs,
And memories
That can only be relived
Briefly.

© 2009, Tim (P) Prendeville