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Meet Darragh Coady

Darragh Coady, a budding spoken word artist hailing from Longford, crafts poignant verses that cut right to the heart of the present moment. His live performances are a mesmerizing blend of vivid imagery and rhythmic storytelling, effortlessly capturing your attention with a mere handful of words. With the skill of a master storyteller, he takes you on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, seamlessly shifting between laughter and tears, all while fearlessly speaking his truth.

His art isn’t just about words; it’s a platform for social consciousness. Darragh’s work delves deep into the lives of marginalized communities, shedding light on their struggles and challenges. Published in esteemed literary journals like The Frogmore Papers and A New Ulster, his poems serve as a powerful voice for those often unheard.

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Behind the poem

“Chelsea” was written as a counterpart to another of my poems, the theme of which was infidelity: a man repeatedly cheating on his wife while she stays home with the kids. We still live in an age where men are revered for this kind of behaviour. That prompted me to start thinking about the other side of the coin. Why is it different if a single woman goes home with a random man any other weekend? Why are only women stigmatised for it? The result was “Chelsea’s Out Tonight”. This poem is an attempt to address that stigma.

Chelsea is an independent woman who doesn’t want to settle down and for this society casts unfair judgement upon her. She’s always been a sweet and honest girl. She hides a secret pain. On Friday nights after a long week of work she likes to dance the night away. She has looks to kill and her friends envy her for it. They tell stories behind her back and the neighbours have branded her, but Chelsea is completely unaware.

Chelsea’s Out Tonight by Darragh Coady

Chelsea’s on the town tonight
Questions will be asked
Which man will she go for first?
Which one was her last?

She will go straight on from work
Just some lippy and her hairbrush
Never had the need for makeup
Just a wink would make us blush

She lived round our way
Two doors up from mine
We’d hear her on our way to school
Singing hit me baby one more time

Then she’d show up at the school gate
With her shirt unbuttoned low
And all of us would stop to leer
At parts she could not show

Through the years she never changed that much
She lived for Friday nights
Never one for drama or dreams
She lived a simple life
And just because she won’t settle down
Others like to judge
She could always have her pick of the lads
While other girls held a grudge

Chelsea had an honest soul but
Not much going on upstairs
“Slutty little bimbo bitch
Been slutting all those years!”
That’s what all the neighbours preach to
Anyone who’ll listen
But what do they know of the sorrow she buries
Or the father she’s been missing?

So what if she finds solace in the arms of
A man or two at the weekend?
She’s not harming you or hurting me and
You could never accuse her of homewrecking

Her bestie secretly hates her guts
Her envy’s the greenest green
Behind her back she’s been spewing bile
About the purest soul she’s ever seen
But Chelsea hasn’t got a clue
She’s oblivious to the rumours
And always strives to see the best
In toxic friends who hurt like tumours

Why not come down our way some Friday night
And hit a club or two?
You’re bound to see her in the centre floor
Dancing in the light
And hear some hollers as the footloose roar
Lads cheering Chelsea’s out tonight
Chelsea’s out tonight
Yes! Chelsea’s out tonight!

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