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Kathleen Woolrich
Orlando Florida USA
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the uniform of a good Irish girl
02:42:15 AM Thursday Feb 22, 2007

the soil that covers you

the grass that hides you

the hands that held a book for me

and the face that looked in disapproval

My Irish Queen

with alabaster skin

and piercing blue eyes

would not approve

of what i have done

I loved without permission

I kissed without asking

I danced without music and crossed the sea

I spent money when no more was coming

I ate too much and enjoyed it

For the Irish spirit is one of suffering

For suffering is a noble badge

the catholic way you know

to hang upon a cross for all to see

or lock the erring girl away in a nunnery you see

I swear if I was back in Cavan or Cork, Grandma'

Like your family's kind

you all would have sent me away

to a cloister .. a convent or somewhere far away

for I fell in love with the dark headed heathens

who's scripted religion had no mother of God

I ran away to the Muslims

Thank the lord you are dead

Your 2 daughters Margaret and Catherine are suffering enough

With their horrible Kathleen who just wont conform

And who spends all her money running to North Africa

And dances to heathen music and dresses in robes

Dearest Grandma ma

I am so sorry

I do not fancy a cross

Or to hang on it

Nor do I find the cold appealing

Potatoes and beef and long winded stories of Ireland and the saints

Are not what I need

I need Amari, Djelloul, Abdelkader and Khaled

I need cous cous and chaabi and rai and the bled

I need all the things I am not allowed to have

And the picture of the pope that my aunt found in your nursing home room

Hangs on my wall

Your poetry books are safe on my shelf

Yet the things you carried with you your whole life ended up with me

A rosary, a dish

A painting

And all your pictures

Your photos, your Irish family

were saved by the worst of the family

the irish black sheep is the only one who holds what you loved dear

But you would'nt approve ... you wouldn't approve

Your sister Helen ran away after Margaret your mother died

And she loved men she shouldnt have and smoked cigars

So I think you are used to my crazy ways

Although you are dead and so is she

So don't worry about the convent or losing me or the children

I love you so..

I just have to see a little bit more before I sit in a chair all alone and gaze out of a window

And put on the uniform of a good Irish girl

The content of this page —graphics, text and other elements—is © Copyright 2007 prospective author, and Raioo, Inc., only when stated otherwise, and may not be reprinted or retransmitted in whole or in part without the expressed written consent of the publisher.

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Kathleen Woolrich's notes (30)
Isabelle Eberhardt..
Hasni Istrumental ... Many do not know that Hasni made instr..
um my new video of me singing in Oran..
Casta Cali..
In another woman's shoes..
take these tears..
I wait no more..
girl in a box of souls..
darkness is my chapter..
Brother Fire..
that heart of mine..
Cheikh Sidi Bemol..
rap cat..
Is 40 the new 20..
Chicken Noodle soup..
cheba djanet..
my heart is a museum..
Oh its Kathleen terrorising AIN TURK..
Aziz Kourbali..
love exists.. from ALGERIAN SUNS 2006..
drinking wine and the house is on fire..
seek truth inside the moments..
I live for you..
my heart is a museum..
the altar..
to hold my hands..
the uniform of a good Irish girl..
hearts on cards..


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