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Chasing The Wind
Chasing The Wind
Chasing The Wind
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Chasing The Wind

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James Linnane is a poet and storyteller from Ballivor in County Meath whose writings pay scant regard to what is considered acceptable or to mainstream sensitivities. A candid and often endearing account of a life lived hard, the poems come with a humour and observation that is more than just simple musing. Old as he says is a season in itself and he rails against the inequities and injustice of those who simply don’t care or as he describes as hiding in a land of the dead. The rhyming and pattern of beats here is often excellent and come with a caution that is unforgiving whether he is reflecting on kindness or the madness of war or simply remembering childhood. A soul-searching account of a journey well done but with a price to pay he writes with a passion or play on words that finds inspiration in other texts and is a reminder that times change and don’t sit comfortable.
by
Frank Murphy, (poet and author)Killmessen, Co. Meath

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJames Linnane
Release dateApr 1, 2020
ISBN9781916380219
Chasing The Wind
Author

James Linnane

James Linnane was born in Galway, Ireland. He has had various jobs with a career spanning bar work, security, construction and engineering work. He now lives in Ballivor, County Meath, with his wife and two daughters. His first book, 'Never Take an Irishman Seriously Unless He’s Armed' was published in New York, in 1988. 'The Life and Times of a Gotcha', published in 2011, comprises a fictionalised memoir of his experiences working in the security industry. James is a member of The Meath Writers Circle, also The Boyne Writers and the internet writers group, Splinter4All.

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    Book preview

    Chasing The Wind - James Linnane

    Chasing the wind

    by

    James Linnane

    ePub: 978-1-9163802-2-1-9

    Mobi: 978-1-9163802-2-6

    With thanks to my wonderful techy daughter Stephanie for all her help and my thanks to Gert and Simon

     Introduction

    Well my friends here I am back again another minor tome of poetry. I have been scribbling poetry since I was 17, good and bad, about everything that happens in my life: joy, pain, despair, frustration, love, hate and anything in between, can induce a poem from me. It is how I express myself. It is truly a part of me and a way to speak the things I feel and think. Some are writtten about others, some are just my mad imagination, or taking a swipe at an unfair society.

    Changes as I age, as life changes, as our world changes around me. My fears and worries, my children small, then grown up, my wife and I getting old and sick betimes. Friends and relations dying, leaving me bereft and lost. Moving house and jobs in younger days, in and out of hospitals as I age. I remember days protesting, involved in political activity, mostly ending in disappointment, as life often does.

    My sense of humour is important to me and I do try to have it in my writing whenever I can, some things I write tongue in cheek and indeed some are serious. Life is far too serious, never lose your sense of fun.

    But our world is never to be taken for granted, we learn every day, see new things, learn as we grow, regardless of age. I have led a very full life and I hope this is reflected in my writings. I have also been in some great writers groups through the years and these people have certainly been part of my education and learning my art, an ongoing thing, till I wind up under the sod. You people take care out there. I send you all my love, thank you for reading my latest book of poetry, I do hope you enjoy it.

    Regards from,

    James Linnane,

    Ballivor,County Meath.

    Ireland

    2020

         I was determined to learn the difference between knowledge and foolishness, wisdom and madness. But I found I might as well be chasing the wind. The wiser you are the more worries you have, the more you know the more it hurts.

          (Ecclesiastes Chapter 1 Verse 17)

    Index

    The Thinking

    A Way Home

    A Shadow Of Myself

    As You Leave

    Cheated

    Damage Limitation

    In Love And Peace

    Chasing The Wind

    Fling Wide Your Doors

    For The Best

    Making Faces At The Mirror

    Last Stand

    Never Learn

    Insomnia

    Big Bad Roy

    Fuck The NCT

    Get Over It

    Lines Across The Ether

    Ireland Why Do You Weep

    My Brother

    The Long Ten Minutes

    The Swan

    The Godbox

    The Healing

    The Aftertaste

    The Fallen

    The Quiet Tumult

    So What's The Point?

    Wha Wha Wha?

    The Washing Machine Has Eaten All Of My Socks

    Waterwars

    Unctuous Company

    With Love In My Heart

    All About The Money

    Wet Turf Won't Start A Fire

    To An Unseen Enemy

    Too Much Sex

    We Shall

    All Under Control

    Crimes Of Passion

    Mistakes

    But God Was Laughing

    Another Babylon

    A Wasting World

    Give And Take

    Crushed

    This Land

    The Upside Of Down

    The Wake Up Call

    The Extra Mile

    Play Ball

    Reap And Sow

    Parting

    Snakes And Adders

    Sovereignty

    Some Other Evening

    The Doing And The Brittle

    Spider

    If I Cared For You

    The Restless

    9/11-The Lies They Told

    The Lonely Planet

    What's The Damage

    Over Now

    Skyline

    Soul And Body

    Still Breathing

    Old Friend

    Spectator

    The Dead

    The Glowing

    Blazing Suns

    Dreamtime

    Me And The System

    Dissipation

    Held

    I Sold My Old Car Today

    The Joke

    This Nation Will Rise Again

    But Still We Stand

    Temples Of Lies

    To The End

    About The Author

    The Thinking

    The sky is raining, my heart's in pain,

    There seems to be no reason but there is one just the same.

    All might be well but I am still unsure.

    Every day is heaven sent, my mouth is closed, my thoughts are pure.

    Everything I know is contradicted by some new lesson.

    I will unlearn, I must unthink, sinking, sinking, a progression

    Of uncertainty, an island, a hard wave,

    A long shot, a despot, coming and going to pieces,

    Now then write it, feel it, touch it,make the play,

    Play the game, crave an audience and kill the scene,

    Dream a big mountain, build your castle on sand.

    Braving the days, as destiny paves the way

    For some ridiculous aftermath to what has gone before.

    He who loves his life will lose it and lose it,

    He who hates it must take no chances,

    Must cover all bases and cower and cower.

    From infinity itself, there is no plain of thought,

    That is in itself perfection and the unraveling of all.

    Those little details would surely lead to madness,

    The sorting, sifting, correcting and shifting

    Thoughts and logic. I go from place to place to place,

    There's no pinning it down, there's no coming face to face,

    Life is life is crap, but just the same we do our best.

    Our best is never enough, but we must make do

    For now. I don't really wish for answers,

    I don't really care to know at all about the deep meanings.

    Warm feelings, and pleasant evenings by the fireside,

    With your cat, imagine that.

    Do not seek too deep, depth is merely an illusion,

    There is no clarity to be found, only encroaching darkness,

    Poaching our last grain of sanity.

    Don't listen to the voices,

    They can only destroy, destroy and consume

    You up, in the all obliterating flame. Thoughts

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