Names

The Gaelic form of the surname Joyce is Seoigh pronounced sho ya/sho-i-ga.The name may be of French locational origins from the village of Josse sur Mer, in Calvados, Normandy Glamorganshire (Welsh: Sir Forgannwg), a region of South Wales, anciently part of the Welsh kingdom of Glywysing, where they held a family seat from very early times and were granted lands by Duke William of Normandy, their liege Lord, for their distinguished assistance at the Battle of Hastings.They settled in the far west of Connacht, on the borders of Mayo and Galway, where their descendants became completely gaelicised, ruling the territory in the barony of Ross – today still known as ‘Joyce’s Country’The Joyces were one of the fourteen ‘Tribes of Galway‘, who had seats in Mervue, Woodquay, and parts of County Mayo.James Augustine Aloysius Joyce (1882-1941), Irish author, best known for his novel “Ulysses” in 1922, “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man” in 1916.Richard Joyce was a goldsmith around 1700 who is credited with the origins of the Claddagh ring.”Death before dishonour”.We do know from the Battle Abbey Rolls that recorded the companions of William the Conqueror that a Cil de Jort (Lord of Jort) fought for William. It is assumed that this is the same person as Robertus de Jorz who was recorded in the Domesday Book 20 years later as owning land in Nottinghamshire.As the Joys became Gaelicised so too did the name which morphed to Clann Seioghe.There is a distinct branch of Joyces from England who do not appear to be related to those with Connemara roots, another branch related to the English Jowsey family and yet another related to a Josse family with roots in Scotland but some suggestion that they may have gone to Scotland via Ireland.Harden is a hamlet, in the parish of Bingley, union of Keighley, Upper division of the wapentake of Skyrack, in the West Riding of Yorkshire.In Scotland, the family claim Harden in Roxburghshire as their ancient homesteadThe surname was first found in Berwickshire, Scotland•William John English VC (1882-1941), Irish recipient of the Victoria CrossDerived from the Old Norse word manningi, which means a valiant man.The surname Manning was first found in SuffolkThe oldest record of the family occurs in Domesday [Book]Mannings Heath is a village in the Horsham District of West Sussex, England.• Corporal Sidney E. Manning soldier in the United States Army who received the Medal of Honor for World War IIrish, scottish, welsh, englishConnacht, mayo, galway

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Tired

People seem to wonder why im so tired all the time. Well maybe its because…

Im tired of the ugliness in the world and in the mirror too

Im tired of being broke and feeling so broken

Im tired of being called strong when all i feel is weak

Im tired of the weight on my shoulders and in other places too

Im tired of jumping through hoops while others run rings around me

Im tired of being used but im just so used to it

Im tired of arguing and fighting with my mind and other people

Im tired of not being good enough for the world or for myself

Im tired of being left out while wishing i could be left alone

Im tired of feeling like two different people living inside one body

Jaded

Death soon becomes us or so they say Beauty and passion are taken away

Turn away bleeding they banish your soul

No longer forgiven deception untold

Follow the streetlights to suffering and pain

Anguish stained teardrops will fade with the rain

Jealousy within us is coupled with hate

Forces of nature controlling our fate

Lonely souls beckon, the future so blind

Suffer the children because of our kind

No understanding of all that we’ve done

We’ll never bear witness to the beasts we’ve become

The shadows surround us like angels of death

Our heartbeats are fading with every breath

Now here in the silence we close our eyes tight

We’ll sleep til forever and follow the light

Our tears have all fallen, this sorrows our own

Another soul broken now we’re all alone

I Miss Being a Tree

The rain fell gently all over me, reminding me of the past. It felt cool on my dry faded skin. Then the sun came out from behind the clouds, drying me off. I felt the cold hard concrete holding me in place and a breeze gently passing me. All around me, others just like me, stood like cookie cutter statues all in a row. We all shared the same sadness and longing for home. A home we would never see again.

I tried not to think about my last day there but sometimes i could still hear the sound of the saw cutting through my body. Then that almighty crash as i fell to the ground, surrounded by my friends. I wondered if they had suffered a similar fate to me. I had reached out to those nearest to me when i felt the first blow. My life energy had surged from my roots and into theirs, passing along my strength to help them grow even stronger.

Now i could no longer feed from the earth that had surrounded my roots. I could never again soak up the rain or breathe in the air. My limbs had all been removed so i couldnt offer shade or a home for wildlife anymore. My bark had been stripped away, leaving my trunk exposed. I would no longer grow any closer to the sky. My only purpose now, was to serve as a place for things to be hung. A lifeless ghost of my former green glory. Never to bloom again.