4 Days in a Council House
After 25 years on the road
I have been forced into a council house
In a nice little compound
Where my dog must not roam
And making a fire
Is simply
out of the question
And I must be as quiet as a church mouse
No techno music here please!
Over the years
The Council impounded 5 of my homes
3 cosy caravans
and 2 lovely trucks
Along with the woodburners
and most of my tat
5 times throughout the years
They devastated me me and my family
Left us destitute and bereaved
We pleaded...we begged
Where are our homes?
Of course they would not tell us
Until it was too late
After 5 months living in a car
an easy target for rednecks
some of them wearing full face balaclava helmets
with their threats of burning and maiming
I was 'allotted' a house
It is not mine
The rulebook is very think indeed
Should I be grateful
for living in this concrete box?
With its soulless white ealls
and the triple locks?
There is no silence
There is no peace
from the constant hum of electricity
It sounds like a sawmill to me
because I have sensitive hearing
from living outside
Glaring orange lights glare through my window
no chance of watching the stars
They are obliterated by this false light
This orange neon
which penetrates my weary brain
I cannot hear the call of an owl
or the squeak of a field mouse as he passes my door
I cannot smell the trees
but only the foul odour of central heating
I go out as much as I can
but it's freezing
I cannot walk very far
owing to injuries
As far as I am concerned
it is an inferior lifestyle
compared to being out on the road
I cannot rest
My head pounds with the fury of resentment
Oh yeah....it's warm enough in here
But how can I tell the future
or see faces
in a radiator
My big beautiful dog
who is used to running for miles
stands on his hind legs to gaze wistfully out the window
and cries as he cratches at the door to freedom
Maybe I should go on antidepressants?
become a zombie
so that I don't feel ANYTHING any more?
I THINK NOT!
In a few days
I'll have the money for heavy blankets
to put over my window
to block that awful unnatural light
But meanwhile
I'll just sit here
and cry.
Copyright Mary O'Brien 30.11.04
an easy target for rednecks
some of them wearing full face balaclava helmets
with their threats of burning and maiming
I was 'allotted' a house
It is not mine
The rulebook is very think indeed
Should I be grateful
for living in this concrete box?
With its soulless white ealls
and the triple locks?
There is no silence
There is no peace
from the constant hum of electricity
It sounds like a sawmill to me
because I have sensitive hearing
from living outside
Glaring orange lights glare through my window
no chance of watching the stars
They are obliterated by this false light
This orange neon
which penetrates my weary brain
I cannot hear the call of an owl
or the squeak of a field mouse as he passes my door
I cannot smell the trees
but only the foul odour of central heating
I go out as much as I can
but it's freezing
I cannot walk very far
owing to injuries
As far as I am concerned
it is an inferior lifestyle
compared to being out on the road
I cannot rest
My head pounds with the fury of resentment
Oh yeah....it's warm enough in here
But how can I tell the future
or see faces
in a radiator
My big beautiful dog
who is used to running for miles
stands on his hind legs to gaze wistfully out the window
and cries as he cratches at the door to freedom
Maybe I should go on antidepressants?
become a zombie
so that I don't feel ANYTHING any more?
I THINK NOT!
In a few days
I'll have the money for heavy blankets
to put over my window
to block that awful unnatural light
But meanwhile
I'll just sit here
and cry.
Copyright Mary O'Brien 30.11.04