As I Rhymember It!: An Anthology Of Poems And Short Stories

By Finbar Hanaghan

This little volume of poems and short stories is an absolute gem. It is the first time these writers have cooperated on a work published in the UK; they are already both published in Europe.

The mix of verse and stories makes it easy for the reader to pause and reflect, when required. The theme is “relationships” remembered and “Rhymembered” with plenty of poetic licence. Relationships in all their forms, noble, spiritual, sensual, and sexual. The wanting, the chasing, the capture, the high-octane climaxes, and all that follows. Sadly, sometimes abject failure and painful defeat.

All human emotion is here, raw, and unexpurgated. The twist is the way the authors decide to treat their subject. Doom and gloom play no part in this work. It’s light, wry, and lively throughout. As I Rhymember It! uses wit to smooth and sooth the many emotional extremes.

But this is no bedroom expose. The “action” takes place in a variety of settings as diverse as, a golf club AGM, a travelling Victorian circus big top, a suburban restaurant, and a European shopping Mall.

For an ever-changing backdrop, to the ever-changing world of human relationships, look no further than, As I Rhymember It! by Finbar Hanaghan, from the original ideas of Barry Thomas Harris.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Aug 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398480155

Finbar Hanaghan

Finbar Hanaghan is to Barry Thomas Harris what Mark Twain was to Samuel Langhorne Clemens. The former, hopefully, long remembered when the real person is no longer here. Harris has been writing for many years but only since he teamed up with Finbar has he felt able to place his work out into the public domain. They hope that you will enjoy their combined efforts.

Book preview

About the Author

Finbar Hanaghan is to Barry Thomas Harris what Mark Twain was to Samuel Langhorne Clemens.

The former, hopefully, long remembered when the real person is no longer here.

Harris has been writing for many years but only since he teamed up with Finbar has he felt able to place his work out into the public domain.

They hope that you will enjoy their combined efforts.

Dedication

We, (Finbar and I) dedicated this book to all the real people who appear within its pages. Without one of us crossing paths with you, there would be no human interaction to write about and therefore no book. So thank you.

To my wife of more than half a century, Patricia, who has had to endure my many mood swings while assembling this collection and no doubt was under the fallacious impression that I did actually have a real accomplice helping me hidden in my study, with whom I spent more time, than I did with her,

my undiluted love and everlasting respect.

Let us hope that it was all worth it kid!

BTH/FH

Copyright Information ©

Finbar Hanaghan 2023

The right of Finbar Hanaghan to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398480148 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398480155 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

Acknowledgements and thanks are overdue to everyone at Harrwood Services Group HQ in Morley, Leeds, whom I had the absolute pleasure of leading for many years.

In particular to my irreplaceable partner in life and business, Pamela (Jane) Wood, and our long suffering PA and devoted close friend, Mrs (Philida) Philomena Wright, who many years ago, typed the original manuscript which contained most of this work.

On ‘our’ Phil’s very untimely death, at age of 47 years and 1 day, 16th December 2000, she ‘bequeathed’ to me the legal protection and ongoing stewardship of her only child, Stacey, then aged 13 years. Phil, my love, I believe that I did my duty. RIP.

To the members, my friends and the committees of the ‘Royal’ Pannal Golf Club, Harrogate, North Yorkshire, my thanks and apologies in almost equal measure for your unsuspecting inclusion within various sections and stories contained herein. And to my dear friends and golfing pals and indeed all the people of Portugal, where we have chosen to retire, God Bless you all!

And finally to my publishers who very obviously know when to push the button marked ‘WINNER’!

Thank you one and all.

Barry Thomas Harris

with Finbar Hanaghan.

Terms of Disengagement

(Maybe it’s time to consider loneliness?)

I seem to sense I see the final outcome now.

In competition for your joy or settlement.

It’s just unfair to push you from the here somehow,

but necessary that we spare ourselves resent.

Control will always contravene the spirit game,

that way of life’s foretold by tears spent.

You’ll have to settle in and stoically remain,

pretend an aura parallel to what is really meant.

There isn’t much to do that’s not the same again,

it’s just that sameness doesn’t, suit your style.

But realise, that we at least, are practical,

it’s likely that you’ll try it, for a while.

If only I’d the courage of my inner thoughts,

I’d make amends for flirting with your smile.

Instead we’re making do with air and telephones,

avoiding issues that are tackled by a child.

Some doubt intentions formed for only pleasantness.

Will they be guaranteed or given final part?

It’s difficult to form a rationale defence,

since rationale’s beyond me from the start.

We’re separating now this time it’s surely rent,

now gone that brief encounter at the start.

Think as you disengage from what was heaven sent,

I came with only friendship in my heart.

FH

Call Me!

(Alter Egos Might Help?)

You told me not to telephone, to call, or even write.

Against my will I made the tryst, affirmed by candlelight.

But instantly I gave my word, futility came clear.

Denied my source of oxygen, life’s lost its way, my dear.

So if my life’s been put on hold, and progress with you stopped,

May I, another format find, time slips, but’s never lost.

If you yourself cannot oblige, if doubts abound to means,

Then alter egos may suffice, help keep the players keen.

So mine may now a calling come, perchance find yours within,

Attract attention to himself, attractive to your twin?

Uncertainty should not present, a problem to this form,

For alter egos do not need, life’s hang ups, to perform.

You see I must cling onto you, by any means I can.

Perhaps your AE will respond?

Don’t pass up on this man!

FH

Getting Away

(It’s Still Difficult Right Now)

How so easy now I find it,

now I’m primed to kick the trip,

Gone away, sublimely timed it,

gone now is the tricky bit.

Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed,

don’t you risk a single word,

Simply shrink, avoiding closeness,

calibrate before you turn.

When tomorrow’s not the future.

when forgotten tedium’s grow.

Falling far short of your limits,

different forces start, you know.

I can do without indifference.

I can do most anything.

Only missed you for a moment.

Shame this has a hollow ring!

FH

Gold?

(Years Ago, A Seaside Scene in Normandy)

The landing craft’s still bobbing, on

a slick of oil and blood.

And not so very far away,

young men, lay still as wood.

Amongst this throng, face down in sand,

our one and only son.

Who should,

within a month from now,

be turning twenty one.

He wouldn’t call it sacrifice,

for what else could he give ?

His life, cut short, his victory,

that you and I could live!

FH

The average age of the men who landed on the D-Day beaches was 20

It’s Their Light at The End of

The Street

(Aboard the QE2 on our way to New York,

11th September 2001)

(In the delightful company of Alvin and Miriam S. When the sky fell in!

Alvin, who was a guest lecturer on board, had held high office at both the LA Times and the NY Times, and served with distinction as a foreign correspondent and editor, around the world, including, London, Rome and Saigon.)

It’s Their Light at The End of The Street.

(Tuesday 11th September 2001, 24 hours out of Southampton, England.)

With a foreign correspondent,

filing telexes to home,

mirrors what in life’s important,

Cong Hi whores, to deaths in Rome.

But when Tuesday’s pall of madness,

caught us up and all at sea,

smashing down our twin contentions,

those who prosper must be free.

Death has grabbed away their freedom,

turned their wealth to endless night.

Where once was cool and shaded,

now glares harsh, twin shards of light.

FH

Jacking It In?

(A Weaker Way Out?)

How so quickly do we murder,

dreams that took so long to build?

Death becomes their germination,

our desires are not fulfilled.

Tend to passive,

that’s the answer.

Don’t you risk another blow!

But you know we’ve got to chance it,

we cannot reap, if we don’t sow!

So to out the dark pretentions,

out them into the true light.

Up the hill, yes, one last effort,

keeping safe that face that’s bright.

FH

On the Leaving of Men

(Once deeply loved and then let go,

a woman seeks attention in yet another relationship.

But the price is high, maybe too high?)

On The Leaving of Men.

I try to catch the rhythm of his hips!

Where is that once so easy and erotic empathy?

That way back when held hold of me,

it bound us both, together close.

I try to catch his rhythm as the doubts arise within my head,

I’m losing track of who’s abed,

who’s holding who, and who’s been led?

Into situations, where the order I remembers gone.

Replaced by grasping and by groping,

no certainty, just coping,

that this last chance trust supposes,

I can this time, overcome.

I try to catch the rhythm of his hips!

I lie and try to tissue over blemishes and cracks,

and wish I could deny the facts, of past and present doubts.

It’s me who’s holding on, in fact,

that truth has never been in doubt.

I try to catch his rhythm but he slips.

Reviews for As I Rhymember It!

[Dr Jon P Harris · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

'Readers should be suspicious of book reviews. Clever people in publishing use all their skills to take someone’s words and bend them into new, more pleasing shapes. In this case, however, the reader has nothing of which to be suspicious. Finbar Hanaghan is a writer of blazing imagination, huge intelligence and insight. His highly original anthology of poems and short stories is a unique marriage of humour and humanity. Wise and witty, the anthology is brilliantly conceived. Without becoming overly sentimental, his poems, with pleasing cadences, speak of love, friendship, relationships, death, ageing, freedom, and sacrifice through the ages. His short stories, far from being gloomy are life affirming, entertaining, full of colour and kindly humour. I take my hat off to him'.