Category Archives: Children

Go, the Mass is Upended

Go, the Mass is ended, secret children no more
Evil works uncovered
As it’s now reported to you.

Go, the Mass is ended,Tuam now tell
the world
These lives undone, the time has come
These children harmed no one.

Go, the Mass is ended, secret children no more
We promise your Mammies loved you
You were always stolen from them.

Go, the Mass is ended, evil of the cloth,
You imprisoned light, from them robbed life
Now Justice must be served.

Go, the Mass is ended, hearts break across our land
Give these women courage
Spread the word, we’re coming for you.

Go, the Mass is ended, leave no stone unturned
This day is yours, unearth that world
Institute of fear now burn.

An Peann

In memory of the almost 800 children found in Tuam. My family’s thoughts are with every woman who was imprisoned in a Mother and Baby home in Ireland during those dark times, my heart breaks for you, you did nothing wrong.
You carried life,sadly life was stolen from you. You were wronged by the hands of evil. Thank you Catherine Corless (Local Historian) for revealing the truth.
For the sisters of no mercy, you never nursed the sick to dying, you murdered them with neglect. Your God is waiting for you.

 

Love Will Never Leave You Hungry

Mam! I turned quickly when I heard him call.
He waved the shiny wrapped package in the air. He walked out onto the road and handed me the forgotten bread. I squeezed him tightly, kissed his cheek and the top of his head. He went back inside knowing today I would be fed.
It is usually a Mother who feeds a child, today the role reversed and it made my spirit smile. Nine years old already serving nourishment.
It’s comforting to know
That Love Will Never Leave You Hungry.

An Peann
For the son of An Peann, an always giving little spirit. X

The Rushing Man

The Rushing man was always in a hurry.
His time was tightly packed into each hour.
He worked hard, ate at his desk. He ran instead of walking.
The face he looked upon most was that of the clock. He wished he could hold her arms still to slow life down, but she kept on moving forward.

The Rushing Man had not time for friends.
He had not time to kiss his wife goodbye or tell his children he loved them.
A busy man has not time for himself.
He would try make time tomorrow, or the day after. Tomorrow never came.

The Rushing Man grew weary and grey.
He wanted to learn how to make some time.
Coming home from work one evening, he told his wife ‘ I want to invest my time in us again. I missed so much, but now I have the time to see that, I want to make amends.’

His wife smiled sadly at him ‘ you were so busy, we never had time to say goodbye. While you were rushing, I went and died. You were too busy to cry. You can come visit me, now you have time.’

He woke up the next morning with tears in his eyes. He rolled over and jumped with shock, when he seen his wife smile. He kissed her and held her with relief and delight.

The Rushing Man’s nightmare helped him see the light. He now has no time for rushing. He only has time for life.

An Peann

Reclaim Ownership

You began in a watery cave of dreams.
A place where you paid no rent.
You were given shelter, nourishment and protection.
As all these gifts were given, you grew from a cell.

Out you came, unknowing.
Without debt, you credited the world with your presence.
You drank the milk of your creator.
You ate when your body was ready.

You wriggled, rolled, crawled then walked.
You ran when your legs gathered speed.
Learning was first mimicked, then taught.
Thinking became realised, then censored.

Rules became laws. Right was not wrong.
You stepped into line, there was a queue.
You followed the crowd, became a pawn.
You believed you were contributing.

You woke up one day, disillusioned.
With all the years of sculpting
YOU REALISE
Society had repossessed your hopes.

You take your awareness to the court.
The Court of Moral Awareness.
You present your case, success is promised.
You tell counsel this:

I began in a watery cave of dreams.
A place where I paid no rent.
I was given shelter, nourishment and protection.
As all these gifts were given, I grew from a cell.

The Judge who presides over Court asks you
‘What are you arguing for?’
You reply, ‘I have come to reclaim ownership.
I have the right to own my thinking.’

On returning from The Chamber of Conscience
The judge straightens his thinking stating
‘I wish more people would come to my court.
The mind is the property of oneself.’

You look the Judge straight in the eye.
The resemblance between you both is uncanny.
You resolve to take full responsibility going forward.
You will never pay dues on your own thinking again.

An Peann

 

The Worry Bear

They now have a Teddy Bear that children can put their little worries into.
They write down their fears and troubles place them in Teddy’s pockets and he takes them away.

Adults could do with a Bear like that too. Carrying around your worries is back breaking. They weigh down the mind and colour the heart blue.

My Worry Bear was once my Mother. She carried around all her own worries, but she always left room in her pockets for our troubles too.

Although we think people have their own concerns, we should never be afraid to share our fears.
A problem shared shrinks a problem, it’s true.

Be someone’s friend tonight, hold out your arms for a cuddle, let someone know you are listening. Worry Bears come in all shapes and sizes. They are the stuffing that family and friends are made of.

Worry Bear’s are made from the fibres of a caring society.
A Worry Bear always has room in its pockets, for a true Bear’s pockets are lined with love, time and care just for you.

Open your Bear pockets tonight. It costs nothing to help make a worry feel light.
One day you might need a Worry Bear to tell you ‘everything is going to be alright’.

An Peann
Sending Bear Hugs out to everyone in need tonight.

 

 

Your Double Decker Bus

There’s a double decker bus with your number on it, you cannot read the digit, you just know it’s your bus.
There are many stages, the first passengers to embark are your parents. The bus just cannot start without them.

They get on with your brothers and your sisters. Along with them they bring your Grandparents, even their deceased parents. Everyone has a seat on the bus.

Your Aunts and Uncles follow with their children.
The bus begins to move.

The next stage your first friend climbs on board. Their presence makes you warm, bringing back memories of that first connection with someone out side your own family.
Behind that first friend comes all your little school friends, your first teacher and every teacher that taught you in your primary years.

A special seat that seems to glow is reserved for those childhood friends who never leave your bus.
Their seat never changes, you always know where to find them and they always can find you.

The next stop more passengers alight. Each passenger wears a small red heart on their sleeve. These are the people you have shared a first with. A first crush, a first kiss, all the firsts you can imagine to remember. They take their seats dispersed amongst the now busy bus.
Few make it to the top of the bus, but they all find a place.

As the bus moves along, time moves with it, sometimes slowly, sometimes it flies along. Occasionally it to comes to a halt. Some of the earlier passengers begin to leave.
Certain passengers you do not notice leave, while others you miss instantly.
The bus keeps moving forward.

When you feel like you have already spent a small lifetime on the route, the pace moves faster.
New faces join your bus.
These faces are the holders of the lifetime tickets.
You know this because the inspector begins to ask for ‘tickets please’.
Your family and lifetime friends are exempt. They don’t need a ticket, they have what you would call a lifetime pass.
There is always someone on your bus who shouldn’t be there, they take up a seat, that they don’t deserve, or squeeze themselves in without reason.
They don’t really want to be on your bus. They distract the driver, upset the other passengers and are generally unwelcome.

Sometimes the inspector spots them straight away, showing them the exit before they cause too much havoc.
Other undesirables may just get off before they are found out.
This makes for a less bumpy drive.

The bell rings and the bus grinds to a halt, there is a mass exodus.

Many faces change bus, some stay. New passengers get on with speed, the bus moves faster, voices grow more familiar.
Those closest to you sit at the top of the bus.

Downstairs the seating changes, some give up their seats to the passengers standing, this continuously changes.
Your children and chosen love shadows now fill the designated seats that somehow always remained empty.

Your bus now feels full.

Along the way you will lose passengers, you will find yourself standing and unseated on your own bus.
The wheels may wear down, the windows may sometimes crack, the bus may get stuck in life’s traffic, but it will always move along again.
The bus can take you anywhere and you just never know when it may finally stop.

There’s a double decker bus with your number on it, you cannot read the digit, you just know it’s your bus.

An Peann

Søren Kierkegaard

“Where am I? Who am I?
How did I come to be here?
What is this thing called the world?
How did I come into the world?
Why was I not consulted?
And If I am compelled to take part in it, where is the director?
I want to see him.”