"Holly"
Acrylic on Paper
COMMISSION
Monday, November 13, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
The Buckaroo Blues
I wrote the letter secretly, my parents weren't to know
My demands I’d kept quite modest and the budget pretty low
And though it was a formal note, I kept the tone quite light
It was filled with love and kisses but was nonetheless polite
I made sure that the envelope was carefully addressed
Within the kiss I sealed it with my hopes and prayers were stressed
I popped it in the post-box on my way to school next morning
It was the first day of October so he was getting ample warning
With Christmas three full months away he’d surely get my mail
My careful forward-planning would ensure I couldn’t fail
My girlfriends wanted several toys and were full of Barbie banter
But there was only one small thing I wished to get from Santa
I didn’t ask for roller skates, a pogo-stick or Chopper
I thought it would be greedy to be seeking a Space Hopper
I tried to not sound pushy and wrote ‘please see what you can do’
Hoping my good manners would secure me ‘Buckaroo’
I dreamed about it every night and during class at school
How I longed to load the saddle on that little plastic mule
How thrilling it would be to see that little pack-horse kick
But knowing when he’s just about to do it, that’s the trick!
For as you load his saddle up he hunkers on his haunches
And if just one item overloads that donkey, then he launches!
Would I possess a steady hand and the necessary skill?
The excitement and anticipation nearly made me ill!
Till finally the weeks passed by and it was Christmas Eve
In bed that night I dreamed about the gifts I would receive
And in the morning bright and early out of bed I leapt
I ran and woke my sister in the bedroom where she slept
The two of us were squealing as we scrambled down the stairs
We burst into the living room to view our Christmas wares
As one by one we tore our presents free from all their wrappings
I couldn’t find my little plastic mule and all his trappings
I opened up an Etch-a-Sketch, some crayons and Kerplunk!
But when I got a Barbie-doll my heart was truly sunk
I opened up an art set that was full of paint and glitter
The tears rolled down my face my disappointment was so bitter
Was it that my Buckaroo demands were just too steep
That Santa couldn’t meet them and reduced this girl to weep?
Oh why would I not get to see that little donkey buck?
The reason was quite simple – Santa couldn’t give a fuck!
I wrote the letter secretly, my parents weren't to know
My demands I’d kept quite modest and the budget pretty low
And though it was a formal note, I kept the tone quite light
It was filled with love and kisses but was nonetheless polite
I made sure that the envelope was carefully addressed
Within the kiss I sealed it with my hopes and prayers were stressed
I popped it in the post-box on my way to school next morning
It was the first day of October so he was getting ample warning
With Christmas three full months away he’d surely get my mail
My careful forward-planning would ensure I couldn’t fail
My girlfriends wanted several toys and were full of Barbie banter
But there was only one small thing I wished to get from Santa
I didn’t ask for roller skates, a pogo-stick or Chopper
I thought it would be greedy to be seeking a Space Hopper
I tried to not sound pushy and wrote ‘please see what you can do’
Hoping my good manners would secure me ‘Buckaroo’
I dreamed about it every night and during class at school
How I longed to load the saddle on that little plastic mule
How thrilling it would be to see that little pack-horse kick
But knowing when he’s just about to do it, that’s the trick!
For as you load his saddle up he hunkers on his haunches
And if just one item overloads that donkey, then he launches!
Would I possess a steady hand and the necessary skill?
The excitement and anticipation nearly made me ill!
Till finally the weeks passed by and it was Christmas Eve
In bed that night I dreamed about the gifts I would receive
And in the morning bright and early out of bed I leapt
I ran and woke my sister in the bedroom where she slept
The two of us were squealing as we scrambled down the stairs
We burst into the living room to view our Christmas wares
As one by one we tore our presents free from all their wrappings
I couldn’t find my little plastic mule and all his trappings
I opened up an Etch-a-Sketch, some crayons and Kerplunk!
But when I got a Barbie-doll my heart was truly sunk
I opened up an art set that was full of paint and glitter
The tears rolled down my face my disappointment was so bitter
Was it that my Buckaroo demands were just too steep
That Santa couldn’t meet them and reduced this girl to weep?
Oh why would I not get to see that little donkey buck?
The reason was quite simple – Santa couldn’t give a fuck!
Friday, November 03, 2006
World Cup Woes
Dear Damien Duff
No need to feel rough
Your efforts could not have been greater
The win was denied
And all Ireland cried
For the lack of a penalty-taker
The loss wasn’t earned
And, oh how we yearned
For Spain to miss one of their kicks
But keep your chin up
And your eye on that cup
‘Cos it’s yours in 2006
Dear Damien Duff
No need to feel rough
Your efforts could not have been greater
The win was denied
And all Ireland cried
For the lack of a penalty-taker
The loss wasn’t earned
And, oh how we yearned
For Spain to miss one of their kicks
But keep your chin up
And your eye on that cup
‘Cos it’s yours in 2006
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