My Writing

I remember Tahoe,
We were young.
I remember our friends,
They young too.
I remember our parents,
Together still.
I remember our future,
We still owned it.
And I remember secrets.

I remember Avalon,
Our lost weekend.
I remember a good book in hand,
The one you gave me.
I remember you smiling,
No trace of betrayal.
I remember a tent left open,
Though the night was cold.
And I remember secrets.

I remember,
The innocence.
I remember,
The moments.
I remember,
The living.
I remember,
The future.
I remember,
The secrets.

© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville

Tick Tock

Posted August 26, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: daughters, happiness, life, living in the moment, poetry, time passing

My daughters.
Sheltered
    Innocent
Protected
    Safe
Happy
    Nurtured
Selfless
    Mine
    But for how long?

Time is not my friend.
It tiptoes
    Sure of pace
It whispers
    "Cherish your time"
It counsels
    "You write your own story"
It does not retreat
    It never has
    It never will

"Should haves and could haves"
	Endlessly pondered.
"Once upon a times"
    Those pondered too.
“One of these days”
    The words of a dreamer.
“When I was young”
    Long lost to the past.

Be happy where you are
    Or change it

(C) 2008, Tim Prendeville

Disneyland
  
The Writer
Posted August 22, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: Alcohol, alienation, family, lost, poetry, Siblings, tolerance.

For years now they have come
These late night conversations
Between past and present
A soul still seeking direction
But never asking
Such patience we humans can show
It masks our fear of confrontation.
Be damned the consequences
Our days are too short
To pander to endless folly
Am I not unlike any other
In crisis behind closed doors
But smiling to the world?
Family harmony is a thirty minute sitcom
The real world is somewhat different
I am tired now.
Leave me be to me and my own
No more endless drama
No more late night slurs
No more
No more.

© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville

  
Bum on a bridge
Posted August 20, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: America, Begging, Haves and Have Nots, poetry, Poverty, Society, The American Dream, The homeless.
From my little patch of the American dream
I watch them all roll by.
I do not envy them
Wrapped up in their little bubbles
Scurrying here and there
Likes ants to sugar.
Some look but most do not
And when they do
It is with pity
Pity!
You have it wrong my friends
You are the ones to be pitied.
Your lives are lived by rules
Rules not of your making
Little bells and whistles
Beckon you here and there
To destinations and appointments
That lead to nowhere
My life is simple
I walk with my head down
Eyes averted
Wits intact
I am all but forgotten
In a world that has no soul

(C) 2008, Tim Prendeville

Moments Lived
Posted August 20, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: "English Danny", 1988, Camping Nomentana, Cancer, Children, death, Divorce, fear, Heroin, life, Love, mother, Overdose, poetry, regret, rejection, Rome, Spanish Steps, Tragedy, youth.
I have many firsts
I hold them close
They keep me young
If not in body
At least in mind
My first crush
Unrequited,
A lesson in life
Learned well.
Not all is for the taking
My first kiss
Returned.
The feeling of a hand in mine
Accepting me
For me
My first days in that big world
The one my mother spoke of,
Walking the streets of London
And finding no gold.
The grass is never greener
My first hard lesson learned
On the Spanish Steps in Rome,
A romantic place for some
A brush with death for others.
Lifetimes are sometimes short-lived
My first true love
Fast and fleeting,
Ultimately tragic
Defined by moments
Now lived in fanciful daydreams
My first great loss
Life’s reminder
That all of this is not permanent
And preparation … though wise … is futile
Where matters of the heart are concerned.
My first true fear
What is it I will leave behind?
What memories will my children hold
Of a father who struggles
In a world no longer his own

(C) 2008, Tim Prendeville

 
Goodbyes
Posted August 19, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: apathy, coffin ships, communication, emigration, Goodbye, poetry, Siblings, skype, The Future, the modern world, The Past, The present

How big the world was back then
When goodbyes brought tears
When hugs were not brief
When kisses were many
When words were few
And journeys brought only goodbyes.

How small the world has now become
With cell phones and web cams at finger's touch
Around the world with the push of a button
Tears to smiles in the blink of an eye
The pains of past journeys
Fast fading with time.

Cork to California
New York to OZ
London to Galway
Boston as well
Goodbyes have been replaced
With apathy and diffusion

(C) 2008, Tim Prendeville



1987
Posted August 19, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: busking, Camping Nomentana, Ed Schmidt, hitch hiking, poetry, Rome, Still In Rome, summer 1987, The Busker, travel, youth.
 
 
Those summer days have long since passed
Those days when I was young
And free of ties
And cares and worries of this world.
In that summer I had a plan
Though roughly sketched
And adrift in the aloofness of youth,
It was clear to me.
My life since then,
Two decades now,
Has rambled and sauntered
And led me far from home.
Where has your plan led you?
Has it fallen by that wayside
Rubbing shoulders and keeping company
With the isolation that life can sometimes bring?
Where has your journey brought you?
Where have your hopes been parked?
Where have your dreams been sold?
Or is it as you always thought it would be?
(C) 2008, Tim Prendeville


The In-laws
Posted August 18, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: disappointment, disillusion, Growing Up, holidays, in-laws, life, poetry, selfishness, Siblings.
 
 
Home for the holidays
The show begins.
A crowded house
Filled with strangers
And memories that have died.
That one there
Such pomp and flare.
God forgive the thoughts that run amuck
In this weary mind of mine.
Damn the laws and morals that keep her here.
And him,
How far he has watched us fall.
Beyond his reach now
Beyond the precipice of reason
And family bonds.
Curse the sham of hugs and handshakes
And the smiles that betray truths.
If honesty ruled the day
Change would be fast
And binding.
(C) 2008, Tim Prendeville

  
The Stairs
Posted August 7, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: Alone, despair, fear, hope, lonliness, Moving On, poetry, regret.
Closing his eyes he drifts,
And hears the laughter.
The past drifts in and lingers
And grasping at the moment
He sighs.

Standing now his eyes take in the mantel
Moments in time
Frozen in time
They alone in their lives
He alone in his.

Hand on rail he climbs the stairs
And recalls when they were new.
Sixteen steps from bottom to top
So many footprints
All in the past.

Top of the stairs
He pauses.
And looking to the attic
Remembers Christmas days and decorations
And sounds of children.

The house is quiet
The past is gone
He lives alone with his memories
And alone with his thoughts
And a conscience that will not sleep.

© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville


Trapped
Posted July 21, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, aging, Breaking Up, could haves, Goodbye, Irishocity, life, looking back, Love, memories, poem, poetry, regret, regrets, should haves, Siblings, The Past, The present, Tim Prendeville, wrong choices
Forgive me for my present
Give me back my past
It is there I am living
With you
The one who got away.
Where are you now,
In these every days?
Are you still you
And living
As I used to know?
Give me back those days,
My today’s I will trade,
For they just pass
And fill my moments,
Alone.
Outside eyes are peering
Seeing only prim rose shadows.
I am hiding from the world
A life unseen,
A life lost.
I am growing old,
Life too,
And I am weary,
Weary,
Weary for a past
Lost.
© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville

 
Phonecalls from the past
Posted July 20, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, aging, Beaumont, Blackrock, Conflict, could haves, family, growing old, Growing Up, Ireland, Irishocity, Letting go, life, living in the moment, loneliness, looking back, Love, memories, Moving On, parents, poem, poetry, regret, regrets, should haves, Siblings, The Future, The Past, The present, Tim Prendeville, time

When I was a child
Life was good
And lived in moments
Unpondered.
But that was then.

In my days of now
Too many times
Life comes calling
Uninvited.
This is how I live.

Was life so good
In those good old days
Of which I speak
So often?
Or just the innocence of youth?

The emotions of confliction
All too familiar
In my everyday life
Haunt me
And hide me from the world.

Where is my world
The one I dreamed of
Before life took hold
And trapped me
In a present
Fixed in the past?

© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville

 
Time Lines
Posted July 7, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: distance, mom, poetry, time.
Time soothes
Distance too
Memories rise
And fall
Emotions quarrel
Questions abound
No more running home to mommy.

© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville

 
Don’t Grow Up Too Soon
Posted April 15, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: Children, Growing Up, kids, life, parents, patience, poetry, regret, time flies. 
 
Don’t run in the house,
This isn’t a race track.
Don’t grow up too soon.
 
 Pick up your toys, 
Your room’s like a bomb site. 
Don’t grow up too soon.
  
 Eat what you’re given, 
There isn’t a menu. 
Don’t grow up too soon.
   
 No talking while eating, 
Mind your manners. 
Don’t grow up too soon.
  
 Eat all your veggies, 
Or you’ll get no dessert. 
Don’t grow up too soon.
  
 Brush your teeth, 
The dentist’s not cheap. 
Don’t grow up too soon.
  
 That’s not how you do it, 
You must pay attention! 
Don’t grow up too soon.
   
Would you please keep it down, 
I’m watching the ball game. 
Don’t grow up too soon.
 
 Pick up your clothes, 
I’m not your maid.
Don’t grow up too soon.
 
 Don’t talk back,
 Just sit there and listen.
Don’t grow up too soon.
 
Do as you’re told,
While you’re under this roof.
Don’t grow up too soon.
 
My, the house is real quiet,
Where are the kids?
 
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

 
Stolen Moments
Posted January 21, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: Add new tag, life, living, living in the moment, lost time, morning time, poetry, sunrise.

Another early morning sunrise
Daylight yawns and slowly rises
It’s warmth a welcome caller.
An extra day in paradise.
It is good to be alive

The garden dew resembles raindrops
It takes me home awhile
To call on a past I ran through
This time unhurried.
The road is long

Nothing stirs now
The stillness of first light lingers
Memories visit and rest awhile.
They give me comfort
Shelter from the world

All is quiet
Save my thoughts
This is the time to delight in
Before daytime deeds intrude.
These moments are my own

Outside a hurried world awaits.
The masses will soon rush forth,
The puppet show begin.
It is not as it should be
It is not as it could be

It is early morning
It is a new day
I am alive and life is good.
My time will not be hurried
It is my own

© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville

Dark Clouds
Posted January 14, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: could haves, Country, family, fear, growing old, Growing Up, Letting go, life, looking back, Love, loyalty, midlife crisis, Moving On, poetry, regrets, should haves, Siblings, The Future, The Past.
Take away these clouds
All day long they hang.
Give me a clear sky
One that offers hope
That all will once again be fine.
Let me feel the warmth
Of memories relived
The way I remember them.
Let me visit a while
An imaginary world long gone.
Take from my life the naysayers
The well to do begrudgers
The ones who hold me back
Those who count their way through life
Let me be
Me.
Where is that person
The one I always spoke of
The one I said I would become
So many years ago
Before I met the world.
Let the race be long
I have much to do
I have only now awakened
And seen the world for real.
It is not what I thought it would be.
© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville

 Jan 
Firsts and Lasts
Posted January 14, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: Breaking Up, busking, Camping Nomentana, Divorce, Goodbye, Letting go, life, loneliness, looking back, Love, loyalty, Moving On, poetry, regrets, Rome, should haves, The Future, The Past.

I remember our first day together
It is as clear to me now as our last.
You were smiling
Lost in a moment
And I, lost in my youth
Intruded.

 
I remember two people on a silly road
Far from home
And the ties that bind
Free from prying eyes
Values and morals
Letting things be.

 
I remember the thrill of youth
The carefree thoughts of those early days
In a time where age allowed adventure
And the world held no fear.
It was in those days that we began our journey
Together.

 
I remember the things we shared
Those things we found along the way.
Trinkets and gems of time
Precious only to the few
That through the years
Became our own.

 
I remember good times spent
It is those I take with me;
My todays bring their own pain.
Leave the past as it is
It has led to roads otherwise unknown
It has brought me here.

 
I remember our last day together
Going through the motions
Of watching a life disappear.
And saying goodbye
And knowing it was final
And feeling lost.

 
© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville

 
The last breath
Posted January 13, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: Cancer, death, family, fear, Goodbye, Letting go, life, mother, Moving On, poetry, The Future, The Past.
 
 
For much of my life I was fortunate,
And within the oblivious beauty of ignorance
I lived my days unaffected by your reach.
But you were patient,
You bided your time
You had no rush.
With a cold impassioned precision
You went about your business.
From time to time our paths would cross
But we never did converse.
It was a blessing I counted too quickly,
And took far too much for granted.
When you did come calling,
It was not by invitation.
Like a thief in the night
You let yourself in.
You defined a life with your touch
Pushing aside all that came before.
That which once was happy
Will forever now be seen with sadness.
And those forced to the fringes,
With smiles and hushed voices
All the while watched,
All the while waited.
Life’s pendulum should be unseen
The history of our tos and fros,
Not displayed for all to see
Like pages from a book.
Life should be lived in the moment,
One that has always been now.
It should not be lived in fear of a day
Beyond our choosing.
You had but one redeeming quality
The gift of goodbye,
But it came with such a price.
With a cold impassioned precision
You set to work.
Year to year
Month to month
Week to week
Day to day
Hour to hour
Minute to minute.
© 2008, Tim (P) Prendeville

 
The Apple Trees
Posted January 4, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, aging, Beaumont, Blackrock, Children, Cork, family, growing old, Growing Up, Ireland, John Spillane, Letting go, life, loneliness, looking back, Louis DePaor, poetry, regrets, Siblings, The Future, Woodvale Road.
 
 
When I was born my parents planted a tree.
It came to be known as my tree.
They planted five in all
And each was named
They have grown much since then
And as if to mimic life
Some are big
Some are small
Some reach high
Some not so tall
But the roots in each are strong.
In summer they all bear fruit
And limbs grow heavy.
But branches long since merged
Have made them strong
Intertwined like vines on a wall.
In years past the fruit was always used
But these days it often spoils
Resigned to blanket a garden no longer played in.
The sights and sounds of autumn are familiar.
Birds busying themselves with plans for winter
Hopping from tree to tree comparing notes
All the while whistling a tune.
A final clearing of the garden.
One more cut and raking of the lawn.
Each tree a trimming of its branches.
Seasonal changes bring seasonal chores.
Winter paints it’s own picture.
The lonely months.
The trees are without life.
There is no fruit.
There are no birds to speak of.
They are alone with themselves
With visitors very few
Save the crows that never leave.
Spring again the garden feels renewed.
The trees begin to bloom with life returned.
Shaking off Jack Frost and winter slumber
They stretch.
Another year has passed.
The trees have grown.
But I remember them when they were small.
Sometimes … I wish they still were.
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

Familiar Paths
Posted January 1, 2008 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, Country, family, growing old, life, looking back, Love, loyalty, Moving On, poetry, regrets, Siblings.
 
Walk with me these traveled roads
Familiar scenes unchanged through time
Places from the past
Shared by generations.
 
Let the silence bring us closer
Me alone with my thoughts
Life’s confusion left behind
And you beside me
 
Such irony we live with through life
That which makes us happy
Will with time such sadness bring.
Evolution’s weakest link
 
Life is a story each day we weave
Write it well and read it often
It is a tale others will tell
It is what we leave behind
 
Tomorrow is for fools with little pitchers
Today is for the brave
Unafraid of facing truths well tested.
The moment has always been now
 
Give me understanding
Give me acceptance
Give me freedom
Give me peace
 
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

 
Without Wings
Posted December 26, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, could haves, growing old, Letting go, life, looking back, midlife crisis, Moving On, poetry, publish, regrets, should haves, The Future.
If I had studied more in school
I would have more answers than questions.
But I didn’t
So I don’t.
I flittered my days away
With little regard for learning.
I don’t know why
But I did.
 
I would like to think it not my fault
My life resigned to the role of minion.
Too much chalk dust
Too much lead paint
Too much asbestos
Too many beatings
Whatever the reason,
The friendly skies of knowledge remained aloft.
 
Now I am grown and life has moved on.
I punch a clock
I grind an anvil
I serve my time.
I have a regiment of should haves
And could haves and would haves
But they too have grown tired.
I wish I had paid more attention in school.
 
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

The Mantelpiece Dwellers
Posted December 18, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, death, friendship, growing old, Letting go, life, loneliness, memories, photographs, poetry, regrets.
Who are these people,
The mantelpiece dwellers,
Sitting there in judgment,
Witnessing our lives.

 
Are they content,
Sitting silently by,
All the while watching,
Frozen in time.

 
I do not envy you,
Posed there for all to see,
Grasping at futility,
Generations removed.

 
When I am gone,
Give me the comfort of a drawer,
And let me go.
Keep the mantelpiece for the living.

 
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

Paddy in America
Posted December 11, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, aging, Breaking Up, Children, Country, Divorce, family, father, fear, Goodbye, Letting go, life, looking back, Love, midlife crisis, mother, Moving On, parents, poetry, regrets, Siblings, The Future.
A mix of dread,
A touch of fear,
A dash of youth,
But no regrets,
Paddy stepped off the plane.

 
Reagan was out,
Bush was in,
Gas was cheap,
America safe,
Paddy was living the dream.

 
Still in his twenties,
Skinny and charming,
Working for cash,
Under the table,
Paddy’s best friend was illegal.

 
Quick trip to Tahoe,
She said “I do”
Music and dancing,
Then off to Hawaii,
Paddy was getting the green card.

 
She stayed in college,
He made the money,
She graduated,
Then booted him out,
Paddy was back where he started.

 
Moved onto a sailboat,
In Santa Cruz Harbor,
Five years of College,
Then four on the road,
Paddy had entered his thirties.

 
Married again,
Back to the homeland,
Two children later,
Ran back to the States,
Paddy stayed home and did laundry.

 
Happily married,
Two kids that like him,
Comfortable living,
Writing again,
Paddy is finally happy.

 
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

The Rain
Posted December 8, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, aging, Children, family, Goodbye, growing old, Growing Up, Ireland, Letting go, life, loneliness, looking back, Love, midlife crisis, Moving On, poetry, regrets, Siblings, The Future.

I love the sound of rain
It comforts me
Like an unfiltered cigarette
Or a Sunday morning beer.
I love to stand in the rain
It is my sanctuary
Sheltered beneath my raincoat
Hidden from the world.
I love to watch the rain,
It is a portal to my youth,
When from my bedroom window,
I would look and wonder.
I love to walk in the rain
It takes me places from my past
It reminds me of where I came from
All those years ago.
I took a walk tonight
It rained and I heard my mother call
“Put the rubbish out”
And I was home again.
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

The Ones We Leave Behind
Posted December 3, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, aging, Cancer, death, father, fear, Goodbye, growing old, Letting go, life, loneliness, mother, Moving On, parents, poetry, retirement, The Future.
The house slips into quiet,
It’s redwood clock the only sound.
And waking from a restless sleep,
He curses in the night.

 
The room feels cold and empty,
And he shivers as he stands.
Outside beneath the streetlight
An Irish drizzle dances.

 
He slides his chair back into place,
And puts the room to sleep.
And shuffling to the kitchen,
He sighs.

 
Gazing through the window,
Two chairs by a tree,
Under a winter moon,
Sit empty.
 
Christmas will be coming soon

 
© 2007, Tim Prendeville

Mom
Posted November 30, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, aging, Cancer, Children, death, fear, Goodbye, Letting go, life, mother, Moving On, parents, poetry, regrets.
 
I’ve walked in San Francisco,
And sailed from Monterey.
I’ve seen Santorini sunsets,
That took my breath away.
You were always there with me.
I’ve won more times in life than lost,
And laughed more times than cried.
I’ve needed help along the way,
In you I did confide.
You were always there for me.
I’ve learned that life is sometimes hard,
And often unforgiving.
I’ve struggled through some wretched days,
But somehow kept on living.
Your strength showed me how.
I’ve learned the facts of life are firm,
And void of all emotion.
I’ve woken to a new day now,
My stream has found its ocean.
You taught me well.
It’s your turn now so rest awhile,
Let your children bear the load.
Lean softly on our shoulders,
We’ll start you on your road.
I will always keep you near.
The daffodils have no flutter
The rose is bleeding black
The woods are cold and empty
The road is quiet tonight
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  Thoughts From A Rocking Chair 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  Posted November 27, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: death, family, growing old, loneliness, looking back, Moving On, poetry, regrets, retirement.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

I have become old.

I am that person from my youth,

The one my parents knew.

I am an elder.
I do not hurry anymore.

I live my life at my own pace,

And each day like there is no tomorrow.

I live for this moment.
I do not worry anymore.

My days of stress are gone.

I have no deadlines,

Nor quotas to meet,

I answer only to me.
I am responsible for my own happiness.

I have loved and been loved,

I have laughed and given laughter.

I still have more to give.
I will look back at my life,

I will make amends if they need making.

I will let go of all regrets.

I cannot change the past.
© 2007, Tim Prendeville




Dear God: Just Checking In
Posted November 24, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, Cancer, Confession, death, God, growing old, Ireland, life, loneliness, parents, poetry, Prayer, regrets, Ten Commandments

How does this go again?
Should I kneel?
Should I bless myself?
I used to as a kid.



I’ve been away a long time.
I wonder how that happened.
How long since my last confession?
Has it been that long?



1) “I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other gods before me”
Well, I think I’m ok with the First Commandment.
But if I could offer a suggestion?
Given the state of the world,
Could you make your intentions a little clearer?




2) “Do not make an image or any likeness of what is in the heavens above…”
I haven’t carved any statues lately, so Two looks good.
And bowing down is so un-Irish.
I’m with you in the vengeance area,
And I’ve compiled quite a collection of names myself.



3) “Do not swear falsely by the name of the LORD…”
Number Three I’m no good with,
I never have been,
And I know I never will be.
I’m hoping for a special dispensation on this one.



4) “Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy”
Number Four looks ok.
Although you might bear in mind the times we live in.
My expenses are soaring and my checkbook’s a joke.
You may have gotten by on six days, but margins are smaller now.



5) “Honor your father and your mother…”
Number Five has gotten easier for me, only father left now.
Mom died of cancer this year.
She led a good life.
I guess you had your reasons, but you could have been easier on her.



6) “Do not murder”
Number Six is intact, no killing done here.
That’s not to say a good beating hasn’t crossed my mind.
Just look at some of the people that make the news.
Is that a sin?



7) “Do not commit adultery.”
Just me and the wife Lord,
So Seven’s just fine.
As long as she’ll have me,
It’s her for all time … Well, Larry David’s definition of all time.



8) “Do not steal.”
Number Eight is complicated.
How do you feel about white theft?
OK, I took a menu from the Trident hotel in Kinsale.
Forgive me?



9) “Do not bear false witness against your neighbor”
Number Nine is still intact.
My neighbors have nothing to fear from me.
It’s an isolated world these days Lord.
I don’t even know the names of their kids



10) “Thou shall not covet thy neighbor.”
Number Ten can be hard at times.
I struggle like most people to make ends meet.
For a while I’d like not to.
And I’m okay with that.



© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville



What If (Alternate)
Posted November 22, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, Breaking Up, Camping Nomentana, change, Danny, death, growing old, life, loneliness, looking back, Love, mother, Moving On, poetry, regrets, Spanish Steps.

What if you had returned an hour earlier?

Would you have turned and walked away?

Would you have said goodbye?



What if you had stayed on the camp site that day?

Would you still be touring Europe?

Would your mom still have a son?



What if you had asked me not to leave?

Would Utrecht be my home?

Would you still be the one?



What if we never met in college?

Would our lives be that much different?

Would happiness have found us so easily?



What if you had one more Christmas morning?

Would you make us all some breakfast?

Would we know to make it last?



What if you could change the past?

Would you let the present go?

Could you live with that?



© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville

What If

Posted November 20, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: drug dealer, happiness, Heroin, life, loneliness, poetry, regrets, unknowns.


What if you had caught the early plane,

And seen me there with her?

Would you have turned and walked away?

Would you have even said goodbye?

 
What if you had stayed home that day,
And left the Spanish Steps to someone else?
Would you have made it home for Christmas?
Would your mom still have a son?

 
What if you asked me not to leave,
And I had stayed and worked things out?
Would I be riding bikes and speaking Dutch?
Would you still be the one?
 
What if you never shared that seat with me,
And our days were spent apart.
Would our lives be that much different?
Would happiness have found us so easily?
 
What if you had one more Christmas,
And we could share some time with you.
Would you make us all some breakfast?
Would we know to make it last?
 
What if we could be happy,
And see that life is good.
Would each day that we are given,
Be all we know it could?
 
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville



You and I

Posted November 13, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: haiku, poetry.

When next we do meet,
Shall we smile like all is well,
And let life go on?
© 2007, Tim Prendeville



Wasted Time
Posted November 13, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: arrogance, Ego, life, poetry.


I saw you walking on Main Street.
You were wearing that smirk again.
What is it about your airs
That bother me so?
 
I remember a time of simplicity,
Before life’s complications.
More the fool I
That I ever kept score.
 
And now?
Too many wasted moments.
My resolve is one of surrender
To each their own. 
© 2007, Tim Prendeville


No More Tomorrows / Song Lyrics / Country
Posted November 12, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: Breaking Up, Country, Divorce, Goodbye, Love, Moving On, poetry, Song Lyrics, The Future.

Our portrait on the wall

Doesn’t look like us at all

You’ve changed the way you look at me

Your eyes they tell it all

The way that you’ve been lovin’ me

It just doesn’t feel the same

As the day when we walked down the aisle

The day you took my name.
For me there’s no tomorrow

The sun will never shine

Unless you’re there beside me

With me for all time.
Why are you so distant

Why do I feel so small

Why do you still hold me

When I feel no love at all

Why can’t you be honest

The writings on the wall

If we have no tomorrow

Then let’s just end it all.
I remember when all I wanted

Was to get on home to you

The daytimes always dragged along

Seems that’s all that they would do

But at night time when I’d hold you close

All my worries slipped away

There are no more nights like that my love

Now we’ve got nothin’ left to say.
Today I’ve seen the future

And I’m standin’ all alone

With no one there beside me

I’m facing the unknown.
Why are you so distant

Why do I feel so small

Why do you still hold me

When there is no love at all

My darling let’s be honest

The writings on the wall

There’ll be no more tomorrows

Let’s just end it all.
© 2007, Tim Prendeville


Woodvale Road
Posted November 9, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, Beaumont, Beaumont Lawn, Blackrock, Cork, death, father, growing old, Ireland, life, Linden Avenue, loneliness, mother, parents, poetry, regrets, Tim Prendeville, Woodvale Road
I remember Woodvale Road when it was young.

Houses had large gardens

The fences were low

And neighbors talked to each other.

There were open spaces for kids to play

Toys lay scattered on lawns at night

Doors may or may not have been locked

And everyone slept soundly.
I remember going home after late nights out with friends

And walking the last stretch of Woodvale Road with shoes in hand,

Careful not to alert parents or neighbors to our near dawn returns.

The stillness that night time brings is not suited to teenagers.

The front door lock was always tricky

Poised to betray my entry.

Did you ever hear me?
I remember I’d always stop at the foot of the stairs

And listen for the familiar creak of floorboards,

A signal that someone had heard me.

And sneaking to the kitchen to satisfy alcohol induced hunger

That only food from a mother’s fridge can quell.

In my minds eye I can still see our little kitchen,

I can even smell it.

Mushy peas soaking on the stove top,

Potatoes peeled and soaking in a pot,

Trifle setting in the fridge,

And silence.

Absolute silence.
Many years have passed since those early mornings on Woodvale Road.

Children no longer play there now

Toys no longer cover lawns

The houses all have gates

And trees circle the gardens.

The neighbors are not how I remember them,

They have aged and walk a little slower.

Kids that once ran so carefree have long since grown and moved to other places

And doors are locked by day.

Woodvale Road does not sleep so soundly anymore

And neither do I.
© 2007, Tim Prendeville
The Clothes Line
Posted November 8, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, Beaumont, Cancer, Cork, death, growing old, Ireland, life, loneliness, mother, poetry, regrets, Woodvale Road

One of the last things my mom said before she died was,


“I was at my happiest when I was hanging out the washing.”
I know of a little pathway you used to walk

I’ve walked it many times myself

I never knew it gave you so much joy

I never knew it was your solace.
How many times do you suppose you walked on that path?

Up and down come rain or come shine.

How many problems pottered around your mind?

How many did you solve?
When it was young it could see for miles

The wind could blow

The sun cast no shadows

It had purpose.
But now it is old and overtaken by life

It no longer sees so far

It’s keeper gone.

No one uses clothes lines anymore.
© 2007, Tim Prendeville
All Grown Up

Posted November 7, 2007 by tim prendeville in "Prose / Poetry". Tagged: ageing, aging, death, father, fear, growing old, life, loneliness, midlife crisis, mother, parents, poetry, regrets.

I met you sometime back,
I think you had just turned 40.
And as I watched you walk towards me,
I could see you had no hurry.



It was not a carefree walk,
More like you were questioning your direction.
And though all around you there were people,
You never asked which way to turn.

 
What brought you here?
Was it just life?
Which way did you come by?
Did you get lost?
Are you still lost?
© 2007, Tim (P) Prendeville