I wrote this poem for my big brother Liam who has spent the last 25 years in Australia. I suppose to get the true value out of the poem you would have to know my brother but I hope that you can at least get some of its’ humour.. My brother is the first-born son of an Irish mother, and as such has always been her ‘extra special’ pride and joy. While all six of us children know we are cherished and loved, there is I think, a special place in my mothers heart for her firstborn. My brother and I are actually very close, so it was certainly with tongue in cheek that I wrote this. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it…
Who the heck is Liam…
I love my siblings, one and all,
But there is one that I seem unable to recall
His name came to mind as if in a dream
Liam, Liam… who the heck is Liam…..
I heard tell of a brother who left to make money
So he emigrated from our land of ‘milk and honey’
Off to the prison colonies of Australia he went
But I heard tell, whatever he earned, he spent….
Fancy cars, fast women, or was that the other way round.
He made plenty of dollars instead of our punds.
Life over there was great it seems
But I still can’t recall who the heck is Liam…
I heard my folks tell of his legendary wealth
They whisper to themselves ‘we knew he’d do well’
But there’s something in the back of my mind I can’t palce
Oh yes, of course – it’s this guys face!!
My mum tells stories of when I was young
And how this Liam and I had such fun
Apparently I was a favourite sister of his
But what you can’t remember, you don’t miss…
Now that sounds sad but it’s not my intention
It’s just that I always hear this guy mentioned
And it causes me great confusion you see
I don’t remember him, but does he remember me?
He could be sitting at home as we speak
Just about to sit down to have something to eat
He could be thinking to himself as well
Edel, Edel, who the heck is Edel….
Now that I find hard to imagine you see
Cause once we meet, you’ll not forget me
But the other guy is not so special it seems
Because I just can’t remember this guy, Liam…..
Perhaps the confusion is caused by my mind
Perhaps my memory of him is just blind
But you know there is this thing called a plane
That can take you from there to here in a day.
But maybe he’s stupid and not heard of these things
Or perhaps he’s waiting to sprout his own own wings
Whatever the reason he remains sight unseen
And I continue to say, who the heck is Liam?
I vaguely remember a few things come to mention.
I didn’t think he’d last to collect his pension.
He liked fast cars and he talked in a mumble
Oh yes, and he found it impossible to be humble…..
When he met someone new he wanted to know
If they’d always dress nice because beside him, they’re on show
So he liked his women looking sweet like honey
And oh yes, did they or their family have money?
There’s one final thing I just want to say,
Its fifteen years and one month to the day
Since I’ve seen you and as I write this poem
What I want to know Liam is; when will you be home??
Placid's Place 