Come Rhyme With Me

A word explosion event based in Dublin, Ireland
At this year’s GAZE International LGBT Film Festival Dublin, the awesome PETTYCASH and us, Come Rhyme With Me are teaming up to present That’s A Rap, a film-themed event of spoken word surprises. 
The rhymes begin at 6.30pm on Friday August 2nd in the Red Room at the Light House Cinema in Smithfield.
Click here for more details. It’s free, so join us, crack open a Cannes, and settle in for some spoken word fun. 
Featuring:
Oisin McKennaUna MullallyTemper-Mental MissElayneousNiamh BeirneAndy ApplesHannah Wilson 
Donations will kindly be accepted on the door in aid of Outhouse. The Red Room is located on the bottom floor of the Light House Cinema.

At this year’s GAZE International LGBT Film Festival Dublin, the awesome PETTYCASH and us, Come Rhyme With Me are teaming up to present That’s A Rap, a film-themed event of spoken word surprises. 

The rhymes begin at 6.30pm on Friday August 2nd in the Red Room at the Light House Cinema in Smithfield.

Click here for more details. It’s free, so join us, crack open a Cannes, and settle in for some spoken word fun. 

Featuring:

Oisin McKenna
Una Mullally
Temper-Mental MissElayneous
Niamh Beirne
Andy Apples
Hannah Wilson
 

Donations will kindly be accepted on the door in aid of Outhouse. The Red Room is located on the bottom floor of the Light House Cinema.

My Commuter Belt Is Too Tight

The fear, the fear, of living out here

Where nothing is queer except the jeers after beer

When lads on the wall to make themselves feel tall

Toss slags like their cans into the canal squall

Of swans once monogamous and now as they ponder us

And look quizzically at traffic lines heading to the office.

Their cygnets a signifier of stay at home mums

and helpful dads nesting in rushes

Protecting their kids from the brusqueness of crèches

In a nest that didn’t come from Ikea.



You were too busy decking to realise we stopped fecking.

And the stainless steal balcony is beginning to rust.

An anonymous letter to Ray D’Arcy’s social rubber necking.

A Today FM researcher is someone I trust.

I wrote ‘what can I cut back on to pay Property Tax?’

And do I get some kudos making Dine In For Two spread over three days?

I asked if other people were in my situation

Then how would they deal with the hassle and dull pain?

Because petrol station lottery tickets offer hope on a Tuesday

But that’s just two days into a week of 6am starts.

Indian takeaways and E! News comas

This is the True Hollywood Story of someone with smarts

Who settled.



When I was a kid we played stuck in the mud

In a playground that didn’t have bouncy Astroturf.

But the fire doors slammed on your dreams and my plans

A dole of baby turtles tossed around in the surf.

I stepped up on a ladder in excitement and good faith

Not checking it was secure before it was too late.

And now the snakes are beneath us flicking their tongues

Not banished but gathering the bills and the sums.

When the envelopes drop onto our comedy mat

Keep Calm And Carry On, you wipe your shoes on that

Coming home in the evening after the M50’s heaving

Spitting out couples in two hours flat.



Last Sunday it was quiet. A ghost town, coffee made.

Sat at the table, Cuisine De France croissant and Sindo magazine

The ghouls of consumption past winked from the page.

Outside the swans hissed at anyone coming near the eggs they had laid.

And I remembered our nights on the town

Taxis down Cork Street and having mates around.

In nightclubs and restaurants toasting to all that we had

And everything in front of us glittered from our glad rags.

But the streetlights fall dark when there’s no life to light

And the barbeques smolder when there’s no phoenix to rise

To bed early now, you turn over in case I come near.

The fear the fear of living out here.


UM

Come Rhyme With Me: Dublin Pride 2013

Come Rhyme With Me gets proud on June 12th with a special rhyming edition at Outhouse in Dublin to mark this year’s Pride celebrations. We’ll have a bunch of proud guests speaking words, raps, riddles and rhymes, Big Gay Fortune Cookies, word gaymes, and Una and Ragin will be there to make everything move along as roughsmoothly as possible. Suggested donation on the night is €3, and as usual, all the sponds go to our homies in Outhouse. 

Ragin and Una at the last installment of Come Rhyme With Me. Photo by Brenda Fitzsimmons. 

Ragin and Una at the last installment of Come Rhyme With Me. Photo by Brenda Fitzsimmons. 

COME RHYME WITH ME
MARCH 6th
@ OUTHOUSE (105 CAPEL ST D7)
w/ Una Mullally/Ragin Spice/Philly McMahon/Oisin McKenna
A new season has sprung with fresh beginningsBest buds blooming ready for a new inningsOuthouse calls for word rhyming and page lickingCome on down, it’s Spring, Chicken.

COME RHYME WITH ME

MARCH 6th

@ OUTHOUSE (105 CAPEL ST D7)

w/ Una Mullally/Ragin Spice/Philly McMahon/Oisin McKenna

A new season has sprung with fresh beginnings
Best buds blooming ready for a new innings
Outhouse calls for word rhyming and page licking
Come on down, it’s Spring, Chicken.

This is not a play.

RS

I’m terry prone to swearing on the telly

Boxing clever about whatever insert pout of the farce we’re dribbling living in sin and paying penance for other peoples whims.

Chancing their arms now chewing on legs, the fat of the land is a romantic notion that the man once had. They danced on our dreams; we’re all tredding softly, now we’ve bust at the seams.

They replaced trees with their species, and built ash groves willow park oak broke downs. Up in the air and in far beyond fields.

Extinct buildings and ghost estate of this place.

O Reilly don’t get me started blimey our city is waiting on a trolley in a grimey corridor breathing its last breath, lets CPR the shit out of it. It’s in our hands to reignite our future. Do not let this history pass us by.

What will they say…? We cried tears over someone else’s spilled milk but didn’t bother our arses to mop it up.

We just sat there and soaked up what we were being tolled. Trolled by haunted souls that listen to liveline. Stations booming out tunes from lunatics who get tattoos of their beaten girlfriends on their necks

Cheek of them telling us this is what we need. Greed got us here now debt is our biggest fear. What will you leave behind a

Can we not see that we are not beneath them. We need a drive by shooting and pollute this city with our inspirations.  Let the looting begin

 United we stand divided we’re just a bottom line

Stop yield look left right of our way we need a plan of action a p o a. before all hope withers and passes and tomorrow was our last day to procrastinate. Debate is central banking on the wankers that are bleeding our resources dry.

Signing on for spare change, change is ours if we want it. If we don’t stand up we can’t be counted. We flounced flaunted our wares without any care for what was round the corner. It’s time to turn it around and face our fears front on come on

Universal social networking charging at them lets cause a pussy riot and stop all this flight from our land. I can’t stand it another goodbye. I’m staying put lets all do the same to get the fuck out of this rut.

MONTO

UM

“It is men, only men, from the first to the last that we have to do with. To please a man I did wrong at first, then I was flung about from man to man. Men police lay hands on us. By men we are examined, handled, doctored. In the hospital it is a man again who makes prayer and reads the bible for us. We are had up before magistrates who are men, and we never get out of the hands of men until we die.” - an extract from an interview with a prostitute by Josephine Butler as part of her campaign against the Contagious Diseases Acts. 

Yeah yeah, that’s what she said.

Lady Wilde digested the newsletter, and folded it, placing a cup of tea on the stand, looking out the window.

Number 1 Merrion Square,
a shadow where her son’s statue would sit, lounging on a rock all Tulisa and dead stare.

A man of some importance. He got a statue. His father got a plaque.
His mother… well, she was just a groundbreaker. Why cut her any slack? 

Her salon emptied out, Bram Stoker was thinking vampires would never catch on.

Isaac Butt was yet to write any Good Bits.

Speranza chilling, listening to Rihanna, thinking about her pronunciations of ‘Jameson’ and ‘paper’.

Markievitz: Dear land thou art not conquered yet.

Sitting in the Abbey with Maud Gonne, placing a cup of tea on the stand, looking out the window.

Shadows where the drug dealers would be.

All benzos and gear, valium and crack stored in Dublin City Council plant pots along the Liffey.

Markievitz now, just second in command (naturally) in Stephen’s Green, 1916, just opposite where TopShop will be.

She holds out in the Royal College of Surgeons for six days
until Pearse’s P45 comes her way.

Kilmainham Gaol where she’s number 70 of women in prison.

The rest put there for stealing bread, or taking British troups up to Monto Monto Monto, running from police on Foley Street turning the corner towards SuperValu, only distracted by ballet dancers rehearsing where The Lab will be. 

“I do wish your lot would have the decency to shoot me” –
Markievitz’s words in Kilmainham jaded by the mercy afforded to her sex.
1971, still in Monto, this time, the platform of Connolly Station.
Boarding the contraceptive train to choo choo choose their bodies.
You can do stations of the cross on O’Connell Street like Mad Mary who lived up the road from me 
and knocked me off my bike aged seven for whistling saying it was the music of the devil.

Dancing at the crossroads of Larkin and the Kylemore Café, near where Ann Summers will be.

Robinson was just a career woman, which presidents tend to be.
Ambitious. Driven. Went to Trinity. Always looking to the next gig.

Female attributes that don’t sit well with callers to Joe Duffy.

She was turned into a rug on Dame St opposite where Crackbird would be -
now this is the 90s so this is pre-waxing.

Rugs were allowed then, removal wasn’t so taxing.

Give us the smooth lubricated body of Page 3.

The rapey pummeling of pornography.

Like when Levy said Britney’s body became so familiar she started to almost think they used to go out.

A slave for you. For me?

Now, on Capel Street, a stone’s throw from Youth Defense, if you’re into throwing stones.
A rock’s throw to the Rotunda up the road from Monto, where by men she is examined, handled, and doctored as she turns the ferry ticket over in her pocket.

The Rare Auld Rhymes

RS

Arís is

Arís eile

Haon

Do

Tree

These are

My rare old rhymes

Bits about me in

The times just gone by

Bygones

Be

Bye Going

Going

Going

Going

Gones

What went down

In my own history.

Still bewildering

And mystifying me

Lots malingering

I don’t want to be here when I’m forty

Doing this

Dissing myself

Misses

Thrust

Opportunities

Happenings

Spring awakenings

Shaking

Like thieves sold my soul

I’m the one who

Gave it away

For forty pieces of love

I ponder on the people above

The ones that went before me

They’re all part of my story

The past and the dead

Quivering

And quaking in my boots

Faking fighting

Biting at a bit

Chomping

And choking on the past

Dry heaving and weaving myself round

Streets that I’ve stood

Memories

Please fade away

I got to concentrate on

This

The present day

And the tomorrows

The dawning’s

Drawing

Maps for the future

Forgetting

Regrets

Things I’ve done

I

Have

Done

At one with

That

Hats off to

Those that marched along with me

Respects for the ones that have gone

But I’m done

Leaning on pastures of past

The future is clear

And for my taking

Self

Less

Ness

Bred from

A selfish act

This

My pact

To me

To let go of a past

Is to

Set thine own self

Free

Believe

Drop an E

Be live

Be life

Thrive in the

A destiny you create

The future is bright

The future is magenta

And I’m hell bent

On making

It mine

Mechanics of Coping

RS

 

I’d take up joggin

Except I run like Phoebe from friends

It’d be a good means to an end of

Struggling

Drudging through the befuddlement

That is daily torment

Of hang nails

Bad dreams

Relentless reality

Sanity found in

Bedroom sanctuaries

Clean sheets

DVDS

Please let these feelings

Be made of pvc

Or teflon

So it doesn’t stick to me

When sad thoughts linger

Pointing the finger to everything else

Pin point yourself

Coldplay fix u

Don’t listen to the smiths

Morrissey’s morbidity is catching

Hatch plans

Catch up with pals

Play

Emotional eating dulls the pain

A second on the lips

A lifetime on the hips

The same is said for these sad thoughts

Think it once

It’ll be thought of a million times

Over

And

Over

Hot chips record

Retreats

Unwinds

Beats the blues

Tuesday bloody Tuesdays

After days, weekends and years of revelling

To hell with it

Done

At one

At peace

At ease

Breathing helps

Inhale

Exhale

Air guitar to Van Halen

Paling in comparison

Listening to

Van the man

Astral freaks

My dreams get mad

Inexplicably bad

Moods are low

Must remember to get up and

Go forth

Get out from this pillow fort

Built of fear

Dear hold me

Help me out the hole

And find the old me

Balance the books

Get out of the red

Do not dred

What is present

Presence

And being

The here

The now

The I will get over this somehow

Determination

Battle stations

Me versus mine

Mind over matter

Shattered

Rest

Be your best

We are blessed

And beloved

Believe you are alive

Thrive

Throw a party

Be part of a beautiful society

Pay no attention to people with piety

Don’t be your own worst frenemy

Big yourself up

Come up trumps

Tiny tasks

Those are achievable

Thoughts are deceiving

If you give up believing

Hope in yourself

Stealth and stability

Are the goals

The steps of the ladder

That may bring you closer

To your self

And a better state of mental health