a river
hesitant
in the dark
stabbed with light
plays with my mind

crescent sleekwhite
suspended
in aerial pitchblackness
giving false security
as we are dispatched

internet deathline
relentless
in the ether
delivers heaped anxiety
shrinking earthly future dreams

grim tide
merciless
as we fight
a killer virus
while devising universal unity.

As I sit here in a greenish part of London overlooking the Thames, I ponder on the Magical Lost Kingdom of Brexit Forever/Never Never Land as it continues on its unending spiral of self-flagelation, I find my mind drifting back nearly 50 years ago and recall with a smile idyllic family summer holidays spent on the alluring rugged beauty of the Donegal coastline in the far-flung north-west of Ireland. Brexit fades from my consciousness and I can hear the wild Atlantic Ocean breaking on the shore, sea birds are flying overhead and the sunlight dances on my deserted sandy beach that stretches for miles and miles and miles. I remember James Joyce at this point when he pondered, 'Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount Strand?'

Happy Easter 

Dateline: Westminster, London, Friday 5th April 2019

With the emergency repair works to fix the serious roof leak in the Houses of Parliament proceeding, it would appear there's been a blip in the security of the place as you may have seen a tweet from our Glorious Leader that a  pandemonium (apparently that's the correct collective term for a group of these blessed creatures) of parakeets has taken up residence within the House of Commons no less.

It's been quite difficult to gauge numbers of these feathered invaders but officials and MPs who have bravely ventured into the chamber believe that there are upwards of 40 of these birds careering wildly about the place making an unholy racket. It is thought the parakeets got in when one of the large windows in the building was left open for a while.

A number of people who have seen these parakeets have noted that these birds are decked out in a coloured plumage of red, white and blue with a design akin to the Union Flag and furthermore. these birds have been heard 'speaking' English using a weird mix of a cut glass accent laced with what sounds like Yorkshire slang - according to some reports.

These parakeets have also been observed to be well clued-up on Brexit and are given to squawking out slogans and expletives in connection with Brexit unfortunately using the most profane language of a richly textured kind - I would not wish to cause any offence by repeating here some of the obscenities that have been made but I'm sure one's imagination can fill in the gaps as it were.

News sources - in whom I have complete trust of course - surmise that it is conceivable that these parakeets were domestic pets of a UK government minister or well-known Tory MP and have escaped captivity.

Suspicions are now being aroused that these parakeets escaped from the home of a bespectacled  public figure with impeccable finesse and mode of speech to match his élite Eton education who is always smartly dressed in Savile Row suits albeit in the fashion of half a century ago as some of the birds have been heard to squawk the following which I am happy to quote here as being less offensive,

"Ee upp, Jacob lad, you've been stitched up by the mardy Maybot!" and "Ee upp, Jacob there's nowt in this Brexit blethering" and "It's a stitch up, ee upp it's a stitch up!" and even, "Ee upp, Maybot is a wazzock, Maybot is a wazzock, lad".

And also, "Aye, Reez-Mugg forever, aye Reez-Mugg for PM ee by gum" - although the parakeets seem to have something of a pronunciation hiccup with names but the real puzzler is where the parakeets' fluency in Yorkshire dialect has sprung from.

If indeed these birds have escaped from their place of residence supposedly from this well-known conservative Conservative as surmised above, it is now a challenge for the parliamentary authorities as to how this problem will be resolved and the parakeets returned to their rightful owner.

If I receive any further reports on these pesky caterwauling parakeets I will be in touch as I thought you should be kept reliably informed of developments.

Parakeetingly yours,

NM

Dublin, Ireland

Early morning, Thursday 4th February 1960

 

We’re alone together.

Mother and I are sitting at the kitchen window.

It’s chilly yet sunny

No clouds

Ever-stretching blueness in the sky.

A big brightness bathes my world.

My mother says, "I have a surprise for you on your special day."

The thrill of anticipation zings through my young bloodstream.

She goes and fetches it

And presents me with it.

I open it

Excitedly.

I can feel her smile at me.

Today is going to be different.

Why?

I have no idea it’s just a thought that’s popped into my mind.

Something mysterious but warm and lovely radiates from her, my dear mother.

I stare at the revealed colourful gift I hold in my small hands

It’s a birthday card

I’m excited to see the number 5 emblazoned in bold red on the front.

A milestone

I have attained half a decade

All these endless seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and months

Amounting to just a handful of years

A pinnacle for me

So much have I lived and yet so much to look forward to

from this vantage point of innocence.

We talk and I converse in adult tones as only a new 5-year old knows

We laugh together as we chat and

She takes me on her knee.

She is wearing a turquoise flowery patterned dress

I breathe deeply as I savour her tender maternal smell.

I begin to understand what this enchanting aura is that surrounds us.

Her arms clasped around me as she continues to bestow happiness on me.

I drink in the joy.

The greatest gift a son could ever have on his birthday

His mother’s love,

Everlasting love.

 

©Nicholas Mackey

10.39am 14 November 2013

 

(First appeared in Red Room, 14 November 2013)