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John Trainor

John Trainor

Holiday in France

I want to smoke Gitanes.
I hate the smell of smoke!
I ache to light Gauloises
And cough and wretch and choke.
I want to watch the world pass by
And eat a mean foie gras,
On fresh baked bread with figs and fruit,
And sweet wines from Alsace.

(2012)

Other works by John Trainor...
A kicking from the Kirk, a booting from the Baptist mafia, choking from a Catholic. I’m still here!

For all the bejeebus believers. Your sight is flawed, Your faith is false. Your certainty of soul salvation, A promise and a lie.
My Aslan

How can I describe you in a song? Portray the beauty I see before m… Sing of your lions mane, your spar… And of the way you move me. Will you love me in the morning?
 3
Fingers

If I had fingers, I would find things. I would fumble, feeling through drawers of cards and notes. Fond felicitations of folk, friends from days gone by; five new pence; four candles;...
Who do you love?

How do you start to write a poem, “who do you love?” First, throw out the rhyme. Whilst lazy it just saves time. I have loved and do love many people in different ways, (read CSLewis,) ...
With Dragon

With dragon, lay in crook twixt le… Whilst worlds around me move, And when I wake no longer shall I… No more to prove, No half baked scheme,
 1
Song for Luke

Eyes of blue, I saw them in a pho… Look at me I’m the one who sired… Walk on by. Walk on by. Baby face, like looking in a mirro…
These Days

How easily he cries, these days, With thoughts of you. He lies. These days,
Mothers Day

I lost my mum when I was 6! I was a careless lad, For at this age I did not realise… It strikes me strange to have one… This wonderous woman we all have w…
 1
Deidres Lament

Watch you go, Cold as snow, Salt and blood. Graved in stone, Old friends gone,
Poetry

I threw all my poems into the bin When I was young, I’d studied the way of the human p… By Freud and Jung. I felt they would make me feel
A thought for the grammar police

I wanted to drink it, I drank it, It’s drunk. I wanted to sink it, I sank it,
Memories of Mary

High platform shoes, Seventies mullets, Tight perm hairdos, Fadgies like bullets. Fadgies that harden,
 1
Freedom of speech!

Political correctness has gone mad… I’ll scream. And shout. And mak… I’ll plan a march from town to tow… I’ll write a poem to express my th… We’ll ask a name to design a shirt…
 2
 1
At The End

At the end it may seem everything… It’s not! It’s just, you’re done! Shut the fuck up angsting your fin… It’s not,
The knowing

I’ll never be quite sure how you g… Still you are here. Inside. Moving me. I packed my trunk with memories of…
 1



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