Daily Prompt: Irrelevant


‘Your irrelevant, you don’t matter now, you never did  and you never will’.
The scream was deafening. He looked at the mother who had born him, not so many years long ago, and asked, how could she hate him. What is it, he had done. All he had done, was to actually be born. Certainly, not a crime of his making.

‘I hate you, I wish to Christ you’d never being born’. So it continued. Although young, he could still tell when to leave others alone and walk away. Which is what he did. He left her with the ever present half empty bottle of red wine on the kitchen counter, and she near slumped over it. Her hair, a mess. Uncombed, and dirty. Black mascara following the trails of her self pitying  tears that flowed down her face. She was more than willing to attack and blame whoever came into her orbit. But it was usually just him. He went back to his bedroom, and began to play with his toys. Hoping and praying that she would fall asleep, and not come into his room. To physically slap and beat him, as she had done many times before.

‘Don’t worry Mark, it will be okay. There is no need to be afraid. We will be together soon’.

He had not heard that voice, in quite some time, but recognised it instantly.
He had spoken to her almost nightly since she went to heaven, although she never answered him. He wept many times, as he missed their play time together, and cried even more when he saw her in the hospital getting more sick, and weak as every day passed. So wishing he could help, but not knowing how.
He looked round the room for the source of the voice. Laying his toy action man figures on the floor. Outside the window, in the dark evening, he saw his sister shimmering outside the window , and smiling. She looked so happy, healthy and content.

‘We’ll be together soon, don’t worry, it will be okay’.

With that her image from outside the window disappeared. Mark, felt safe, secure and happy. More so then he had done in a long time, and clambered into bed, after carefully locking the door, not someting he usually did.

After she had finished the remained of the bottle of wine in the kitchen, his Mother was her usual angry self. Inhaling deeply of the cigarette, as she stumbled upstairs. Swearing loudly, her voice raising. As he was the only other occupant in the house, she went towards his room to vent, to off load her venom. Finding the door locked, she screamed and kicked loudly at it. But the door held firm. Her screaming and kicking of the door, had awoken Mark, and he snuggled down under the covers, his body shaking slightly, and his breathing rapid. The butterflies breaking free in his stomach. He waited expectedly for the door to break open, and his Mothers assault to begin.
Again she attacked the locked door, screamed and swore. Quietness, followed by a heavy series of thuds, akin to trees being felled. As her head hit the final step, at the bottom of the steps, she fell backwards, unconsciousness and the cigarette rolled out of her hand, and under the nearby curtain. It did not take long for the curtain to fully catch ablaze. Starting slowly, then gathering momentum and speed. The yellow and blue flames easily setting the wall alight and reaching up to the ceiling. The cracking sound, and burning stench, quickly engulfing the lower ground floor. The carpet around the fallen drunken Mother, soon alit too, burning all in its path.

‘Come Mark, it’s time to go. She gently touched Mark to wake him’, and roused him from his bed.

She took his hand as they exited the room together, through the calm night, out into the fresh cooling air, and skyward. Past the dark night sky. Past the glistening stars, and on into a beautiful, tranquil and peaceful garden. Where to his delight he ran into the open welcomong arms of his beloved Grandfather, and Grandmother, who embraced him warmly, and that favourite labrador dog, he believed was gone forever.


There, there…


‘Let me do it’.
‘No, you might only hurt yourself’.

The story of his life. It’s what he mostly remembered from his childhood. The over caring, some would say fawning Mother. Never allowing him the freedom to develop as a human being. To try and to fail. To make those mistakes that young people must do, and then to readjust their settings. Never was he given that opportunity. She was seen by some as a caring , loving Mother, but to others, she was the person who was crippling his ability to deal with the world.

To come to terms with the disappointments , failures and frustrations that life has a habit throwing everyone’s way, at some time or another. But thanks to her habit of making his life easy, and painfree for him, he was left without the tools to deal with life when it did not go to plan, and she was not by his side, to smooth the way.
He began to hate her, from an early age. Her claustrophobic smothering of his freedom, in case he got hurt. Her unspoken use of him as a substitute husband. To compensate for an inadequate, selfish, alcoholic husband. Sharing aspects of her unhappy life and failing marriage, that had no place being shared with a child. She shared with uncontrolled vengeance and bitterness.

Whenever the other boys at school were less than kind. Or girls, not welcoming of his attentions. His Mother was always there to coddle and sooth him, and to make life seem not so bad. To spoil him with gifts, and fine food. To tell him, how wonderful he was, and wrong , foolish and just plain nasty those other people were.
He was turning into a very unpleasant person. Feared and disliked by his classmates. Quick to anger, and violence. Borne out of his upbringing. His lack of tolerance and impatience for frustration. Unable to comprehend that life doesn’t always run one’s way. He thought nothing of walking into the local retail shops, and helping himself to whatever took his fancy, without payment many times. Angrily threatening violence on any who dared try to stop him.

Teachers pleading , and warnings from the local police of a possible future filled with long prison terms for her son, went mostly unheeded by her. She did not need anyone to tell her how to deal with her child. She knew him better than anybody. Was it not he, and she versus the world.
It did not take so very long, for his Mother’s misguided sense of love for a child, combined with her loneliness, anger and bitterness to manifest  itself over time, into inappropriate but unsaid, welcome touches. Welcome to her, and to him. He did not understand what was happening, but he enjoyed the sensations. They both knew it was inappropriate that she still bathed him, at his age. A young fast growing teenager, quickly growing into manhood. Both knew, but said nothing. She enjoyed the touch, and sight of a man’s body, even if it was her son, as she bathed and dried him. Massaging his body, to calm his mind, she told herself. To keep him out of prison. It was not long , before in the darkness of the night she lead him, that first time, and many times since into the marriage bed. They held and pleasured each other as man and wife, as lovers. She guiding his inexperienced hands around her body. She exploring his young body, and he responding to her touch. Their first kiss, she greedily searching out and finding his soft lips, while he recoiled in disgust from such a touch. But in time and with her forceful insistence grew to long for and enjoy, such a touch.
The longer it went on, the more confused, and troubled he became. Whereas she seemed to gain a new lease of life. Never had he seen her so happy. He did not like to see others, especially those close to him , happy, and it angered him. Not when he was so miserable and unhappy inside. It was with that in mind, he visited the school guidance teacher, one day after class had ended, and relayed what had been happening at his home. He overplayed his weeping and upset, to ensure a satisfactory result. The guidance teacher swiftly moved it up the line of command, and events moved quickly.

As he lay on his bed in the care home, contemplating his future. He knew that whatever the outcome, he would never see her again. Whatever was to happen, at least he would be free of her.



He wouldn’t have being the first, and rather doubtful he’ll be the last. Many had chosen this hiding place. It was a respectable hiding place, At least in the view of the older people. The true believers. Yeah,those ones with the blinds pulled firmly down in front of there eyes. It wasn’t like it was a prison sentence, although to some it wasn’t far from it. No women. Not much alcohol. A false front, of caring, compassion, and interest in others. But what happens behind the doors of a religious order, never has to reach the knowledge of the outsiders.

    As he lay in front of the Bishop, on the altar. He and the three other victims, or should I say cowards. Well he and the other men running away and hiding from life. From themselves. Their friends and families in the Church looked on with pride. What an honour to have  a family member in the priesthood. Surely that would ease the passage of all associated with the new religious entrant into heaven. Hardly going to work against them.
               As Thomas lay on the altar, while the bishop conducted the very long, drawn out ceremony. Thomas with his arms outstretched to his sides, and his face down in the red carpet. Striving to cope with the current discomfort. The coldness of the Church. The hardness of the ground he was laying on. He reflected on what had brought him to this situation. To this choice. Was it really the only choice he had. Could he yet run from the scene before  it was too late. Before he was inducted into the priesthood.

That certainly would be unheard of, and a total unforgivable scandal in 1930’s Ireland. His mind turned to her. She was never far his mind now. The forbidden love. She was older, A lot more mature than her fourteen years. In looks, manner, and outlook. But it could never be. Not now, not ever, He told himself, many many times, as he twisted and turned alone in his bed at night.
                                 But the deep feelings of love, or was it just lust, he wondered, were impossible to hide from himself. True yes she was the first female to show any real feelings of warmth towards him. But he had heard of how many young school girls fall in love with there Teachers, but very seldom would they fall in love with a guard. Solid,Upstanding,Member Of The Community. This Was One Secret He Knew He Could Never Let See The Light Of Day.
                His Mind Travelled Back, How On That Sunny Day, As They Walked Along The Clifftop, Alone And Out Of Sight Of Others. That’s The Way It Had To Be. She Spoke Of Her Wishes For The Future. How Happy She Was, The Prospect Of A Family With Him, A Long Life Ahead Of Them.
           She Reached For His Hand. He Hesitated, And Suggested Instead, She Loop Her Arm Through His.

’It Will Look More Innocent’,

She Smiled And Laughed In Response. As They Continued To Walk Along The Cliff Top In The Warm Sunshine. Valuing Their Time Alone Together. He Teased And Chided Her For Missing Out On School To Spend Time With Him. She Laughed At His Mock Teasing, And Ran When He Chased Her In Jest. Catching Up To Her, She Turned And Softly Put Her Arms Around His Neck And Kissed Him Gently On The Lips.
              He Turned Back Towards The Clifftop Path. Feeling He Was Being Watched, And To His Utter Disbelief He Saw, The One And Only, Mrs Delia Murphy. Who Was Better Known As The Local Town Gossip. Standing And Watching Them. With Her Long Three Quarter Way Coat, And Large Handbag, Dangling From Her  Arm. A Small Hat Upon Her Head. She Had Never Married, And Had Taken Her Bitterness About That Situation Out On The World, On The Village By Spreading Scandal And Rumour. Overly Exaggerating Half Truths , About Anyone She Chose Too In The Village.
                                She Very Much Fitted The Image Of A Bitter, Aging Spinster. With A Large Physical Frame, Hair Always Tied Tightly In A Bun, In An Angry Manner. A Plain, Always Stern Face, And Less Than Pleasant Demeanour. She Eyed The Scene Of  Thomas And The Young Girl, And Her Mouth Dropped Open In Shock, Consternation, And Some Envy. But She Also Smiled, Because She Certainly Had Some Scandal To Spread In The Village Now. She Hurried Along The Clifftop Walk Towards The Village.

‘Mrs Murphy’, Thomas Called After Her, Releasing Sinead’s Arms From Around His Neck, As He Followed In The Footsteps Of Mrs Murphy’s.
‘i It’s Not What It Looks Like’, He Pleaded.

She Have Turned To Face Him,

‘Get Away From Me Guard Thomas Brennan, I Know What I Saw, And Soon Everybody Else Will Too…..’

Her Face A Picture Of Triumph, Joy, But Also Envy, As She Again Hurried Along The Path Towards The Village, With Her Self Righteous, Indigent Walk. He Knew It Was Pointless To Reason And Argue With Her. He Returned To Sinead Where She Stood By The Cliff Top Edge.

‘Now Do You See What You’ve Done’, He Voice Raised, And Face Reddened. ’You Know We Have To Hide Away From People. You Know Who That Was ?’

.‘Yes, I Know’. What Can We Do ?’

‘I Don’t Know What We Can Do, But We Have To Stop Seeing Each Other, For One. You Will Just Have To Find Someone Your Own Age, We Cannot Carry Any More’.

With That Sinead’s Face Reddened, And She Hung Her Head. Thomas Reached Out To Touch Her Hand, But She Pulled Away. He Reached Out Again, Again She Pulled Away And Ran. Her Tears Blinding Her View.


The More He Moved After Her, The Faster She Ran, In A Disoriented Manner. He Watched, As If In Slow Motion, As She Got To The Cliff Top Edge. He Looked At The Clear Blue Sky, And Asked God For Help. God Didn’t Answer. He Watched Her Eyes Widen, And Her Lips Parted To Scream, But No Sound Came Out. He watched in the silence, As She Moved Forward Into The Clear Blue Sky. He Ran To The Cliff Top Edge, But It Was Too Late. He Didn’t Want To Look, But Forced Himself. A Quick Glance At Her Broken Body, Lying Bent And Misshapen On The Rocks Below.

       As He Lay Prostrate On The Floor In Front Of The Bishop, Again He Thought Of Her. She Would It Seems Never Ever Be Far From His Mind And Soul……




Why do attractive women act this way. The truth.

How to make sense of some women.

Just cause I ask you the way or where do I pay
Or for a product in a shop
It doesn’t mean your looks astound
Make me fall to the ground
So I drool like a fool
As you frown and look down
As I place you upon a pedestal on high

Just cause I see you walking down the street
It don’t necessarily mean I’m keen for us to meet
Maybe I don’t like the look of you
The way you hold and carry yourself
The clothes you wear and do you swear
And what kind of shoes you got ?

Maybe I’m married, perhaps I’m gay
Or maybe I ain’t interested in a relationship today
I got better things to do than spend my time drooling over you
Like take the cat for a walk, or get the project up and running at work
If you have ‘that Attitude’
The one that I find rather rude
The one that says I’m a beauty and you want me……..Yes you do
Well no I don’t especially if I see That Attitude
I think that’s quite obnoxious and believe you should be sued
For such an unhealthy view of life, causing men like myself so  much strife

A woman is a lot more to me than just how pretty she can be
The character has to be in place along with the personality
If these aspects ain’t in place,you aint even at the starting gate
Are you decent are you loyal, or do you treat men just like fools
Do you listen, are you adventurous, are you stressed or even depressed
Are you strange and bizarre, can you even drive a bloody car
Are you honest and fairly clean, or perhaps you’re kinda mean
Maybe at times even verging on the obscene
I don’t mind obscene, but rather if you were not too mean

Generosity is nice and perhaps it would make me look twice
Maybe stop and get to know you in depth
Who knows we may dip our toes, in the fringes down the road
Into the beginnings of a pleasant ongoing relationship

Are you a liar, or do you aspire, to a more honourable way of life
Are you loyal and discreet to the people that you meet
Can you fulfil the commitments that you make
Without swearing like a stressed out state trooper for goodness sake
Or Getting All Sarcastic And Calling People Mate

Are You Decent Are You Kind
Can You Hold A Man’s Attention With Your Mind
Are You Mental Are You Calm, Have You Ever Even Being To Siam ?
Were You Kind To Your Mother, How About Your Little Brother
What About Your Classmates At School
Yeah You Know…….Even The One’s Who Were Not Too Cool
Were You Cruel And Unkind,Or Did You Pay Them No Mind
These Are Some Of The Questions I Would Have For You

It’s ‘that Attitude’ That I Detest, That Some Women Wear Just Like A Vest
The One That Say’s I’m a beauty, I’m the best And You Want Me Out Of This Dress
You’d Love To Get Your Hands Upon My Chest , And More….And Yes I Know The Score
Well No, Not Really With ‘that Attitude’
It’s Not That I Get All Depressed, And Really Rather  Stressed, But This I Could Well Do Without
So When You Grow Up Maybe Give Us A Shout, And I’ll See What I Can Do For You To Help Sort You Out

If You Think Men Spend Their Time Drooling Over The Likes Of You
It’s Only Yourself You’re Fooling, We Got Better Things To Do
A Pretty Face With Nothing To Say, Does Not Make For An Entertaining Day

I Blame Men For The Predicament We’re In, Who Treat Women Like Goddesses Who Could Commit No Sin
These Foolish Men Will Have To Make Amends For Making It Worse For The Rest Of Us
From Fathers To Brothers, To Priests And Many Others, Who Put All The Emphasis On How A Girl Looks
Without Much Thought Or Consideration To Whether She Can Could Cook, Or Even Read, Write A Book
Well Not For Myself It Don’t

Unfair On Women I Have To Say, It Must Be Hard To Be Judged On How You Look Every Day
Can’t See That Changing Anytime Soon
But That’s The Way, That’s Their Lot, Their Just Gonna Have To Put Up With What They Got
That’s Their Battle, That’s Their Strife
But Not All Men Judge You For The Way You Look, Especially Those Of Us Who Like A Good Cook

A Woman With A Mind That Can Entwine, With A Personality And Character So Sweet
She’d Be Near Complete, And Maybe Good Enough To Sweep A Fella Right Off His Feet
These Are Aspects I Look For In A Woman I Might Meet

Some Women Have That Body Language And ‘that Look’, That Leaves Lesser Men Kinda Shook
The Attitude That Seems To Say, I’m Such A Beauty You Best Stay Away
I’m So Good Looking It’s Just Untrue, What In The Hell Am I Gonna Do
All The Boys Want Me, Yes They Do, It’s Just So True, Oh Good, Oh Good, Oh Goody Two Shoes
It Don’t Matter I Ain’t Got No Brain, And At Times Can Be Rather Tiresome, I’m Just Saying
But Look At Me, And You Can See, Just Look How Quiet Awesome I Can Be
My Daddy Told Me A Long Time Since, I Was A Beauty Of Exceptional Elegance
That Men Would Come From Far And Wide,To Drool And Grovel Right By My Side
It’s True, It’s True, It’s True I Say, I’m So Happy With The Way I Look Today
Now Where’s That Mirror, Then Down To The Prom
So All The Guys Can Look At Me, Like I’m A Total Sex Bomb

A Question I Would Ask Of You, Is When You Sit Alone At Night
Do You squeeze Your Buttock’s So Very Tight
Squeeze, And Squeeze And Squeeze With All Your Might, Until Your Buttock’s Cannot Take No More
Until Your Backside Is Really Sore, Or Do You Continue With Aplomb
To Get The Figure Of A Sex Bomb
Do You Ask Within Your Mind, Is Their A Way That You Can Find, A Method To Make Your Buttock’s Shine
Not So Much To Give Yourself A Fright, More A Ritual To Carry Out Every Night
As You Sit In Front Of The Mirror , And Yelp With Delight At The Beauty Staring Back At You
Laugh So Much That You Can Barely See, How Really Beautiful You Can Be
With The Make Up Done Ever So Right, Not A Hair Out Of Place
How Can A Girl Be So Lucky To Have Such A Pretty Face

Do You Laugh Even More Even Though You’re Not A Whore
As You Clench Your Buttock’s With All Of Your Might, About How You Can Draw The Men In
Who Would Be Willing To Commit Sin, Just To Have Their Way With You
Or Do You Sit On Your Window Sill, With Your Derriere High In The Air To Thrill
Some Passing Nuns Who Would Be Stunned, And Possibly Scream With Delight
In Seeing A Rear, Where It Was Fairly Clear, It Had Been Worked On Quite A Bit, Both Day And Night
Or Do You Sit By Your Window In The Evening Bright, With Your Derriere In Full Sight
Of The Passing Crowds As You Feel So Proud, And Want To Show It To Somebody

These Are The Questions That Run Through My Mind, As I Twist And Turn In Bed At Night
Or Sometimes As I Study My Own Backside, In Private By The Candlelight.




The Chameleon.

The Chameleon

He sat alone in his car, in the warm early evening watching them. Trying to choose a suitable victim. The stirring in his loins beginning to run out of control. Thoughts of forthcoming fulfillment setting his mind alight with desire. Images of pleasure fueling his lustful emotions.
Was he actually salivating with pleasure  ? surely not. Yes, in fact he was actually dribbling with the anticipation and pleasure of it all. Smiling to himself as he wiped the dribble away from his chin.

His wife never knew of his double life, of course. Why should she, there was no need. As far as she knew he was nothing more than but a loving Father and husband. Whostrived to do his best for his family. A fully paid up member of the Christian fraternity. Church going, hard working and clean living. His only ‘issue’, if it was even possible to call it  that, was he had more than slight fondness for the online casinos. At times he did have the tendency to over indulge himself there. Words had being exchanged between them on occasion, regarding the matter. But she was willing to put up with it, as he had so many other, positive attritubtes, in her mind.
Little did she know. He smiled to himself, at the very thought of how well he was able to fool her, and others, besides. He checked on the back seat of the car, to see he had all the ‘tools’ he needed for what he was about to do. The few cans of beer. He was no longer surprised how helpful alcohol could be in a situation like this. Along with the bit of hash. Cigarettes, the porn magazines, and those other images of men with men. smiling, and making love with each other, and looking so happy. The soft red cord rope. The black tape. The rubber blindfold, and the strong  rubber mouth gag, if necessary. The sharp foldaway knife only to be brought into view, if the other participant was not very forthcoming with the pleasure. Along with the tranquilizers, as an absolute last resort. After all he did not want to be making love to an unresponsive soul.
So much better and enjoyable to see them suffer, and hear them scream. Just like he had, all thoses years ago. as long as they hurt, like he hurt, all that time ago. That’s fair, ain’t it ? That kind of familiarity brings comfort , in a strange sort of way. Yeah all was in order. The anxiety beginning to arise in his chest. The flutter of his heart, as it beat just that little bit faster. The butterflies slowly being released in his stomach. His legs beginning to shake just a little. His breathing becoming somewhat more rapid and shallow. His mouth just that bit drier. But he welcomed these feelings. Not labeling them as anxiety. More feelings of pleasure, excitement and joy. As he knew he was soon to have his lust satisfied.

Which method, he wondered to himself should he use to entrap and entice his young prey. Perhaps he could be more inventive this time. He always liked to push himself that bit further each time. A solitary test of his own deviousness and ingenuity. He watched as they practised their football training in the park. So many young boys. So many choices.
It was the screaming that snapped him away from his inner landscape. As she wrenched open the car door. Her face a mask of anger. Wide angry eyes. The jutting jaw. The teeth clenched, like an angry tiger about to attack it’s prey. Her face near purple in colour.
‘Get the hell away from here, I know what your up to’. Her screaming voice, too loud to be true. Her face so close to his, he could feel the warmth of her breath. Taken aback by this sudden attack, his composure disappeared. All of a sudden, he felt so very afraid. Just like he had, as a little boy. He attempted to wrestle  the door closed. Some of the other parents drawn in by the screaming turned to watch, and began to move towards the car. Finally his physical strength won out, and he closed the door. She energized by her anger, wrestled it open again,and reached down to the steering column to remove the key. He could not afford to be caught, and be forced to answer possible awkward questions asked by the authorities. As she moved her face closer to his again, and began to scream. He raised the back of his right hand, and brought it down swiftly and hard across her right cheek. The knuckles catching the softness of her fragile jaw line.
She stumbled back a few feet. Her hands quickly moving to her reddened face to subdue the burning pain. As the other adults approached the car. Quickly turning on the ignition with his shaking hands. He put the accelerator to the floor. The vehicle jumped to life. He drove at speed in the direction of the park exit, not even stopping to close the door. His breathing very rapid now. The butterflies bursting like crazy attempting to escape from his stomach at speed. His heart beating, like God knows what. Perspiration forming on his forehead.

He had escaped…….just. At least he had a few lessons from this encounter. As he continued driving away from the scene in the safety of his car. His composure slowly began to return to normal. He smiled as he reflected to himself, ‘Always another day, always another park’. It was just a matter of time.

It was a good hunting ground, no doubt.




                                                                                                               16-OCT-2015//G——MILL Stret.


The Wallet.

The Wallet.

I had a wallet once or twice, and that was all rather nice
All shiny, black and leather too
A gift from a lady I once knew. A lady of distinction and impeccable taste
But maybe she should have known better than to give me something made of leather

It’s soft to the touch, although I never put much in it
I still like to caress, touch and feel it
What’s the deal with that, wonder have I got some kind of fetish ?
Possibly so, I just don’t know

It don’t make me strange or peculiar, although some may choose to disagree
But then they don’t really know me, so I won’t pay much attention to them, you see
Maybe I should just concentrate full-time on leather
Just wrap myself in it, till I know no better

I’m fairly sure I’ll derive a great deal of pleasure from that
Is that so very wrong ? As long as I don’t burst into song
It’s just a harmless inanimate pleasure
It’s only leather after all

It’s just that I start getting strange withdrawal symptoms
If I can’t get near leather. I seem to find myself getting into a bit of a tether
I just feel drawn to it, in a strange sort of way
That’s my lot, that’s the way. There’s really nothing more I can say.


                                                                                                                                                                   OCT-06-2015//  G.

Woman 2.

There once was this woman, right, and man she was well outta sight
With a fine full bosom, and eyes so blue
I mean what in the name of God is a fella to do
I said,’would you mind’, she replied, ‘I’d rather not’,and declined
‘Come on’, I said, ‘Don’t be mean, let’s get dirty and obscene’
I protested, ‘ just give us a go ‘. But she was firm and said no
So being a gent of sorts, I said, ‘I’ll be off then’, in retort
So what could I do. What would any man do
So I said ‘okay then, to hell with you’.