TPJ Oscar Predictions

Well, how ye getting on?

I’ve been more excited by the Oscar awards more so this year because let’s face it, there’s been nothing else to do in lockdown.

  1. Best Picture: Nomadland

2. Best Director: Chloe Zhao

3. Best Actress in a Leading Role: Carey Mulligan

4. Best Actor in a Leading Role: Chadwick Boseman

5. Best Actor in a Supporting Actor: Daniel Kaluuya

6. Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Yuh-jung Youn

7. Best Original Screenplay: Sound of Metal

8. Best Adapted Screenplay: Nomadland

9. Best International Feature: Another Round

10. Best Song: Husavik (My Home Town)

11. Best Original Score: Soul

12. Best Animated Feature: Soul

13. Best Documentary Feature: My Octopus friend

14. Best Short Documentary: Collete

15. Best Live Action Short Film: Feeling Through

16. Best Cinematography: Mank

17. Best Animated Short Film: I Anything Happens, I love you

18. Best Film Editing: Sound of Metal

19. Best Make-Up and Hairstyling: Ma-Rainey’s Black Bottom Band

20. Best Costume Design: Mank

21. Best Sound Design: Sound of Metal

22. Best Visual Effects: Tenet

23. Best Production Design: Mank

Have a lovely day, wherever you may be. Hopefully the sun is shining on ya. Good luck tonight

Brian (TPJ x)


Trust – An Ode to An Post


– An Ode to An Post – 9.2.2021

Here’s a poem for An Post,  and it’s brave men and women,  a public valued service that I love like a cold to warm, lovely linen.

Here’s a gentle nod to an phoist,  who smile as I walk in,  to collect our mail from our custom that has been given

And held and organised well by them and then delivered really safely, the present bought with hard earned punts, that will make Sharon smile bravely

Between the bull fights and fiestas, between the drinking and the phone, between the hugs and kisses of parted lovers, between feeling loved, and alone

They rise before the cocks crow, drive sleepily to their dance floor, Caring for my precious packages or Nicely driving them to my door.

I guess what I have learned,  is I fully trust the Post. I fully trust the pen pal,  and I fully trust the rust.

I fully trust the ink whereupon,  I know the problems they’ve been set, but they still found a way to get me my Granny’s let.

I fully trust the delivery because I trust the hand that held page,  I fully trust the postman,  because they smash it on their stage.

I trust the light green uniform. I trust the light green van I trust the postal woman. I trust my post man

I trust the light green uniform  I smile when I see it, I bought a package from China And I really, really need it

A wise flitting bird once wrote, as serious as a German, that ‘the best way to find out you can trust someone is to trust them’ – PM Herman

That’s the name of my postman, She’s like a relation, Alas she has no time for my cup of tea So Molly barks her away to her next smile creation ❤️ 

A Half-Filled Cup of Coffee

If you have a half-filled cup of coffee, or tea for that matter, It means that you are working strong and have too much noisy chatter

inside your head while you work, to succeed at your grind, or chess game where you work out moves from your fast fantastic mind.

A half-full cup of coffee means you needed a’lil break at that time, or a soothing cup of tea would help slow the over active chime.

But when it filled and some was drank, you went right back to your game deployed. And left her standing strong and full, to help again if you get annoyed.

So you’ve reached the level Half a Cup, if one’s heart needs help drink the other half Cup.

I Woke Up This Morning Angry

I woke up this morning angry, but my soul felt alight, all thoughts came rushing out my mouth, just gagging for a fight.

I woke up angry at our big family and the world, and all the pain they’ve caused, I woke up and spat out these thinks, no time for coffee paused.

So these thoughts came out in words, unwilling to stay within my mind, They rushed into my messy room, not sure what they would find.

They flooded up my bedroom fast, then made their way downstairs. They filled up my red coffee cup and healed its wavered cares.

So they’re out now in the air around and I’m scared to open up the door, Because when they make their way outside, they won’t be with me any more.

And I like them here. I almost need them here.

I woke up this morning angry, and my soul felt alight. It was like my dreams had been too much and they called reality out into an Alleys fight.

Because the real world can be so cruel… to you, and me, and her, it has kicked you, smashed me, knocked us back from the time that we met sir.

She’s a girl who cared about us, but only less than just one whip. She talked and talked then broke your heart. Not for your soul she did not give one ship.

And the world is pained with selfish men, who dig it until it’s done, and nat’ral resources are picked off, for greedy, selfish fun.

So I woke up this morning angry, and I put them down onto this page. The world just seems so beautiful but it’s breaking on this stage

In front of us as we watch, and clap and then realise,

that Ireland and India, Mexico (New Zealand) have things right, work hard, in friendship, never despise.

So now I’m not that angry, I think I’ve gotten them out and fret, but if you ever need to shout your dreams, do it early so you won’t forget.

And if you can indulge me one bit of advice, Be Nice…

And never be afraid to release care, Thoughts are won’ful, but not hurt inside there.

I’m Fragile, Delicate

I’m quite fragile at the moment, said the world. I’m feeling a lot. Trying to trust my heart and my instincts. Listening to my gut.

I’m eating well, seeing nature, sensing smells and seeing. I’m feeling and listening.

Then the world got a virus, so the world got sick. Humans ate a bat while the climate changed.

People became weak, and the world slowed so they could heal. Men couldn’t use a sick world so they had to slow.

Animals roamed, seas foamed, rivers became unpolluted.

Minds that raced slowed, city’s stopped, man became unresoluted. Undisputed?

And The world healed, nature inhaled and then breathed in fresh, clean air. Rejuvenated.

We all became more fragile.

Connections deepened, leaves weren’t swept.

I stayed indoors and watched and tried to listen… And all I heard was a heart beat.

This low, fallen, silent heart beat that had synced with everything. I felt the pain, listened and watched while talent blossomed.

Individually we saw the fragility of ourselves and each other and the environment…

I listened to the heart beat and watched people become platelets. They helped heal the wound.

Some prayed, and received, some played music, some painted and some became silent. All shared.

Some God’s answered. Dear God, who ever she is or what she is to every one, answered with what we and they needed.

The low, fallen, silent heartbeat began to pulse in rhythm with everything. We became one with the earth. We all heal.

Sciences came, Western and Eastern, arrived together for the collective good. Science helped when gods were making people fight. We don’t understand so we quarrelled and were honest.

I’m fragile, we’re fragile, there’s nothing wrong With Heaney’s blooming fragility provided we heal. There’s nothing wrong with fragile.

We just can’t go back to where we moved from. We won’t survive. I’m fragile said the world. I break if you’re too rough.

And it became all right.

%d bloggers like this: