Dublin Pleasures

All around the wet, busy city centre,
In the rainy, windy night,
With cringing faces and half-shut eyes,
Huddled into their own bodies,
Wrapped in clothes that fend off the weather
But can’t fend off what’s inside,
People walk with stories to tell,
Some happy,
Some sad,
All unique and relative to their own lives…

One man walks by,
Suit and tie, briefcase in hand,
Anger, confusion, hurt all in his expression,
As he braves the cutting wind
He toys with the idea of asking
The question to the one he loves,
Yet fear of rejection and damage to his ego
Prevent him from doing so…

His chance will go begging, breaking his heart…

A young girl walks by,
Hood over her head,
The label on the front stereotypical,
Her eyes are an alleyway leading nowhere,
Beneath the sleeves of her coat
Scars from her mental battles lie,
She is toying with the idea of leaving it all behind,
She’s a burden, who would care?
A lone tear drips down her face
As she plucks up her resolve…

Her body would be found in the Liffey the next day…

An old man walks by,
Fighting to keep his cap on his head,
Wrinkles showing years of wars and wisdom,
His teeth are false and his bladder is non-existent,
He moves stiffly and the cold cuts him
Like a thousand knives cutting through butter,
The years are taking their toll on him now,
His wife left this world five years ago,
He has no children, no other family at all,
He knows his time is coming to an end…

He will join his waiting wife in two days time…

A group of four lads walk by,
Coming from one of their cars,
Shirts on, studs in their ears,
Heading to their favourite night club,
All with thoughts of ossification
And of pulling tonight firmly in their minds,
Their lives revolve solely around these things,
Seeing and doing other things doesn’t come into it
Because they are young,
They have all the time in the world…

A car crash kills them all; the stories in the papers will paint false pictures of those lads…

One woman walks by,
Mid-forties, shopping bags in either hand
As well as the bags under her eyes,
Life has not gone according to plan,
She wanted to see the world,
But has only ever seen Dublin,
With three children and a deceased husband
Her dream looks like never being fulfilled,
The pressures of single parent hood cripple her permanently…

She would die without ever escaping the place she hated most…

A middle-aged man walks by,
Official looking, money to the seams,
The economic meltdown affects him in no way,
He has three houses, foreign investments,
Stocks in all sorts of money-making ventures,
He thinks he is fixed for life,
He can imagine it now, his life on a private island…

Within a year, bankruptcy would leave him foraging in bins beside his old office…

A teenager walks by,
Woolly hat on his head, headphones blocking out
The noise of the city centre,
A distracted look on his face as he bumps into people,
He thinks he’s insignificant to everyone else,
He can’t bring himself to ask out the girl he likes
Because he feels she would never want to go near him,
So he just consoles himself by saying ‘I will, I will…’
And never doing anything except write about his feelings…

His procrastination will see him lose her and a number of other girls…

A foreign couple walk by,
Visitors to our country,
Taking in all the sights,
They’re trying to find a particular place
And ask anyone who passes for directions,
Everyone ignores their query for no apparent reason,
They approach one particular group of lads,
Scumbags, hoodies up, cans in bags,
The scumbags sense their chance
And lead them astray…

The two bodies would be found stripped of all money and valuables…

Another young boy walks by,
He is easily affected by the things going on in his life,
He comes from a broken home,
Every little thing can elate or deflate him,
He doesn’t know how to deal with everything happening inside,
He fears the future…

He would become an alcoholic and a junkie…

A boy in his early twenties walks by,
Essays, projects, presentations
All swirling around his clouded mind,
College has taken its toll on his life,
Preventing him from spending time with the people he loves
And from doing the things most important to him,
He’s only in college to please his family
Who want him to work in a nice white collar job,
Despite the global recession hitting the people already in those jobs,
He just wants a job in a nice quiet place,
So he can spend time with those he cares about
And do the things he’s always dreamed of…

But he would get the white collar job and would struggle to make quality time until the end of his days…

Another girl walks by,
On her way to a fancy dress party,
She’s a fairy,
She blocks out the depression of a boy she cares about,
Blocks it out while saying to herself
Semper Fi, semper Fi,
She’s convinced in her own mind she knows his mind,
She’s convinced he won’t do what he writes about always,
She knows him…

Not well enough; he would be found hanging from his bedroom ceiling three weeks later…

Two people
From two different counties,
Think about each other day and night,
Trying to second guess the thoughts of the other,
They were one once,
But circumstances drove them apart,
And, despite the elimination of those circumstances,
They are afraid to approach each other again,
As the little doubts have crawled inside their minds,
Making them fear the loss of their friendship
More than the loss of their love…

They would end up with other people and their love would never be realised…

There are more people and more stories than this,
All these people don’t know each other,
All these people could be one person,
All their situations are relative to themselves,
No one in or out of this list could turn to anyone else
And claim their suffering is worse than any,
Each person has their own suffering to deal with,
Consideration of others’ circumstance rarely exists,
Self-centralisation is easier for us all…

This is Dublin…
This is life…
This is how we live it…