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John Trainor

John Trainor

Poetry

I threw all my poems into the bin
When I was young,
I’d studied the way of the human psyche
By Freud and Jung.
I felt they would make me feel
The things they were written to heal
So the poems are gone!
 
The feelings live on!

(2013)

#Irony

Altre opere di John Trainor...
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
Memories of Mary

High platform shoes, Seventies mullets, Tight perm hairdos, Fadgies like bullets. Fadgies that harden,
 1
Eight Lettered Scrabble

Don’t go yet! We have barely found the consonant… I love you You love me Four plus four!
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
Dad

Before I could even speak or know… He told me what I should believe. He told me what I should achieve. He told me how proud he was of me. He told me when I was a disappoin…
Moments of Joy

Like when my darling Matt threw back his head on the back seat of the car and at the top of his five year old voice triumphed, “and I wish you joy,” (oh what a tremolo), “and happiness,...
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,
One Last Try

I didn’t set out to hurt you, I w… I’ll probably always love you anyh… You said that you’d never leave me… Then in the space of one weekend y… I know you’ve got someone else now…
 1
Virus 2020

I will not ask for help. This virus has abandoned me high a… I locked down early. As a health professional I did no… Though I waited.
Christmas 2020– Lockdown!

For Christmas this year, I shall paint my fat face! I can do that you know. A clown, A queen,
Stardust

He’d been there, done that, seen the movie, read the book. A life well lived and well informed, that knowing look. He said, “there’ll come a time when I’m not here to watch you wend you...
 1
Life Without Faith

If I had wit and words to write my love for you. I would not construct a poem whose rhyme and rhythm would pulse the beat of steady heart. For I do not possess the skill and wordsmith...
 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
A dead man’s cellar!

I’m living in the cellar of a dead… Duncan, my usual purveyor of all t… Told me, “his wife just called and… So, I rooted round a box of ports and…
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.



Alto