Pat Ingoldsby’s new book ‘I Thought You Died Years Ago’

I was only delighted to be wandering down Westmoreland Street on Saturday and see that Pat Ingoldsby has a new book out.

His latest collection of poetry (with some prose) is called I Thought You Died Years Ago and though a smaller book than his usual, it’s still packed with poems and thoughts that made me think, laugh and smile. From the back of the book:

“People often say to me “I thought you died years ago!” in an accusatory sort of way. Almost as if I have let them down by not doing so. I always apologise and promise to try harder next time”.

This collection, his 20th of poetry features some wonderful works. The book is a lovely addition to my already full collection of his work. Certain poems made me laugh out loud, certain ones make me realise just how much Pat knows, loves and laments Dublin and certain ones are just a bit mad where you ask “What in the name of jaysis was he thinking?”

His poetry is hugely accessible. It’s familiar but distinctly his. His observations, his quirkiness and his uncompromising view on what is real and who he is makes this book - and in fact, all of his I’ve read - an absolute pleasure and a treat.

There’s a couple i really loved that I think he’d be okay with me sharing - as long as you like them and go say hello to him and buy a book!

God It Was Lovely

Two little blonde children
the pair of them in a double-buggy
safe beside their mother on the bus.
One of them is dreaming
with his eyes wide open.
She is holding the other one’s hand,
caressing it slowly with her thumb.
She is dreaming slowly too.
When it is time to be getting off,
she pulls the buggy behind her
towards the front of the bus,
the two little ones, facing backwards,
eaving to everybidy on the lower deck
“Bye bye! Bye bye!“
And now to the driver.
“Bye bye!”
and now to everyone who is getting on.
“Bye bye!!
And all of us laughing to be a part of it.

Sometimes I think I should have been a Counsellor

The woman on the street was telling me
that her canary is depressed
because his name is Tweetie.
For a while I thought she was joking
but it soon became unnervingly clear to me
that she wasn’t.
“It’s highly unlikely” I said.
“Canaries probably get depressed
because they’re not getting the leg over.”
“How do you know?” she said. “Do you
keep them yourself?”
“No” I said. “I’m depressed as well.”

Things to do in a buggy

Locate a foot. Pull off a sock.
Toss it over the side. Start again.

There are so many other great poems in this collection. The lovely tribute “A Poem For Calla”; the beautiful “Mother Loves“; the I-had-tears-rolling-down-my-face-from-laughing “A Bit Late For Sat Nav Now”; the only-Pat-Ingoldsby-could-write “Conversation Between A Couple Of Chickens Concerning A Recent Bereavement”; the memorable “Regarding Maisie Cox’s Cat And The Pulling Of A Chain” and the quite simply wonderfrul memory from his beloved Malahide “The Beautiful Sound Of Nothing Happening At All“. Every one an entertaining read.

For these, and more, please visit Pat at Howth or on Westmoreland Street in Dublin. The book is €14. It’s well worth it.

Jaysus Kevin

When he arrived back early from the protest march,
sobbing bitterly, his mother asked
- “What is after upsetting you Kevin?”
“They sent me home Mammy” he choked.
“They sent me home.”
“You must have done something” she said.
“No Mammy…honestly…nothing” he wept.
“But you must have done something…
people don’t get sent home for nothing. Think back…”
So he did. He thought back. And he remembered.
The man with the megaphone had shouted
“WHADDDDOWEWANT?!!!!”
And he had yelled - “Nothing thanks! I’m grand!”
There had followed a terrible silence.
They stripped him of his placard.
They they told him not to fucking well come back.
And on they went, marching without him,
the man with the megaphone shouting
“WHADDDOWEWANT?!!!”
and everyone shouting the right answer.

All poems are copyright Pat Ingoldsby, 2009. Published by Willow Publications (Dublin), 3 Vernon Court, Seafield Road West, Clontarf, Dublin 3.