Pete Mullineaux – Two Poems

pete_mullineauxPete Mullineaux lives in Galway, Ireland. Published widely in Ireland, UK, USA and more recently in France, Spain & Japan. His work was featured on ARENA (RTE Radio 1) & in FUSION magazine, Berklee College of Music, Boston, USA. Three collections: Zen Traffic Lights, (Lapwing 2005) A Father’s Day (Salmon Poetry 2008) and Session (Salmon Poetry 2011.) A new collection is forthcoming in 2016. Three plays have been produced by RTE radio, most recently ‘Butterfly Wings’ (2011). Just a Second! – a book of plays on global issues written for schools was published by Afri (Action from Ireland) in 2014. His ‘Disconnect Song’ was included on the Songs for Rossport CD released in 2015.

Two villanelles:

Broccoli: a meditation on paranoia

after George Bush

Beware the broccoli gang – the enemy within;
strike them off the list for they are criminal.
We cannot let subversives win.

Even enclosed in a shiny air-locked tin,
impact softened, damage seemingly minimal –
beware the broccoli bunch, the enemy within.

While angels distract with dancing on a pin
those devilish tendrils swirl and swim in all
directions: we cannot let subversives win.

Green: colour of camouflage – ‘Is feidir linn!’
terror creeps up to our borderlines liminal:
beware the broccoli sting – the enemy within.

Say, ‘No we can’t – true Republicans won’t give in,
let the divine light of our wealth prove seminal:
we cannot let subversives win.

They lie in wait beneath the rubbery skin;
prick to find, like the Titans, subliminal –
the whole broccoli gang: the enemy within.
We cannot (afford to) let subversives win.

That’ll be the Day

(a Cockney sing-along)

Valentine – you really are a patron saint,
contriving all you can towards our bliss.
But getting it right every time? Sadly you ain’t

always got the foggiest; even the feign-
test idea: beyond that first blind kiss.
Valentine, you really are a patron saint.

Oh, a card you are, a cad – day tripper in paint,
forsooth – you surely take the piss.
Getting it right on the night; sadly you ain’t

always hitting the mark; despite rituals quaint:
who could that admirer be? Mr, Mrs, Ms or Miss?
Valentine you really are a patron saint

in sinner’s clothing; you hardly show restraint.
Declarations OTT – ‘rose that and violet this.’
Always getting it bang on – you ain’t.

But at least you try, even as divorce figures taint
our love-sick leanings – point us toward the abyss.
Valentine – you really are a patron saint:
are you right always? (OK, I get the point) you ain’t.


© Pete Mullineaux – Feb 2016



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