Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Skip James # Dylan Thomas # St Patrick

The slick picking style
Of Bluesman Skip James
A man down in Clare
Got a rap of a hames
Jig time and reel time
A few polkas too
Marches and hornpipes
In sweet Killaloe
Welsh Dylan Thomas
Passages and rites
Oh ‘Do not go gentle’
Yes put up a fight
Surfing the waves
In battered Bundoran
An airport in Knock?
You can blame Father Horan
Minding his sheep
On rocky Sliabh Mish
St Pat dreamt of snakes
And eating smoked fish
Farewell to Diego
Maradona that is
A star in the cosmos
A parcel of fizz
Now that was some feast
The loaves and the fishes
To think that the chef
Had only two dishes.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte.

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

# Luke # Juliette Greco

Luke would be eighty
This dank winter’s day
Our great balladeer
A star through the grey
A Jewel on the lake
By lovely Portnoo
Dawn at Doon Fort
And pale blue on blue
Blood on the grass
Ten decades ago
The ghosts of Croke Park
Where Royal Canal flows
Hundreds and thousands
Went digging for gold
Some stayed at home
For peace to unfold
Hippies and hash
And venial sin
Little brown books
Thrown in the bin
The pale moon did rise
Above the green hill
Dublin for six ?
All’s quiet in Gills
The sultriest tones
Of Juliette Greco
Gals in the Shelbourne
Sipping Prosecco.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte!

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Ray Clemence # Mount Leinster # Marc Bolan ##

Clean from the bog
Gold Broighter Hoard
All pulling together
All welcome aboard
A safe pair of hands
A genius in essence
The whistle has blown
For keeper Ray Clemence
A two dimpled smile
A true man of honour
The curtain comes down
For sweet Des O Connor
Majestic Mount Leinster
Its mysterious nine stones
One king defeated
And picked to his bones
I’ve been a wild rover
For many a year
Moderna have nailed it
Lets have a few beers
Marc was the man
A giant T Rex
Flared jeans and platforms
Capos and plecs
Ginger McLoughlin
Was only sublime
He pulled half of England
Over the line.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte.

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Poem

Fungie.

Our friend from the deep
A premier danseur
Jumped into the stars
A friendship so pure
A beauty once sang
Oh ‘Nothing Compares’
A tear on the cheek
Now trumpeters blare
An angel regaled you
Her song on the wing
With sheen from the moon
My ‘Wonderful Thing’
Go softly my friend
Where the old Dolphins play
Till we meet again
Near Dingle some day .

Tom Clancy 29/12/2020.

He made so many people happy ..a true legend!

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Neil Young # The Broighter Hoard

Floras beguiling
Periwinkle blue
Heavenly Myrtle
Celestial hues
Legend Neil Young
Is seventy five
Some male falsetto
The finest alive
Honey malt whiskey
Made in Kilbeggan
Fishermen blacken
Their currachs in Cleggan
Sad Ballinalee
It’s grim Bully’s Acre
Where scores of our heroes
Went to their maker
Wicklow’s Glenroe
With Biddy and Miley
Oh fond of the sup
Was poor Dicey Riley
Sweet Joni Mitchell
At seventy seven
From both sides now
With wine at eleven
I went up for a ball
Oh long long ago
Up to the clouds
And came down with a crow.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte.

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Chrissie Hynde # The Book of Kells.

Cute Chrissie Hynde
And long weekend benders
We lived every frame
And loved the Pretenders
Bioluminescence
And small noctiluca
Pookas a glow
In dark Poulaphouca
A spanking new vaccine
Some new hope say Pfizer
Stay safe and say calm
So say our advisers
The old holly bush
Bereft of red berries
They yet could appear
And all will be merry
Bright Mr. Rubik
And his colourful cube
Like trying to count dewdrops
Or waltz on the tube
Our ancientest scripts
The old masters wrote
One such book of Kells
And one Ballymote
In cold limestone caverns
Where white tites come down
And Clare’s Ailwee caves
Past sorrows did drown.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte.

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

John Giles # Paul Ashford & Hunchback Whales.

Twee country lanes
We seem to forget
When bright morning moons
Match every sunset
Lockdown in Wexford
Near three weeks to go
Countdown to Christmas
The end of our woes?
Gilsey is eighty
This very fine day
Mercurial balance
Long passes to spray
Six drunken spiders
Setting their traps
Front man Paul Ashford
Sit down and Relapse
Butterfly tail flukes
Mammalian mass
Hunchbacks return
No more we’ll harass
The OK Corral
It’s Biden and Trump
Joe won the draw
Big D has the hump
Weekly Frank Hall
And questions he’d ask us
Like who had a dump
On the road to Damascus.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte.

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Robert Fisk # Gougane Barra

Steeped in old lore
The great town of Navan
A known Palindrome
Just south of Cavan
J J has passed
Williams that is
The wizard from Wales
Lightening-like fizz
Pots at Portnoo
Creamed lobster bisque
Another man down
Bright Robert Fisk
Oh sweet Gougane Barra
I played in your church
A fine amphitheater
Of oak ash and birch
Donald and Joe
Are neckity neck
Half of the world
Just don’t give a feck
Otters are darting
And chasing with glee
They’ve known all along
That our rivers run free
Mark’s Dire Straits
And money for nowt
Sting and The Stranglers
Hangin about.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte.

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Nobby Stiles # Sean Connery # Christy Ring.

I’ll now take a trip
To Alpha Centauri
I’ll pack a nice lunch
Of quince and John Dory
His class and his fame
Have travelled for miles
Goodbye to a legend
The great Nobby Stiles
A cool secret agent
Has sailed cross the pond
Farewell to you Sean
The Scottish James Bond
His age it would be
One hundred long years
Cork’s Christy Ring
Brought grown men to tears
Ans so we have Samhain
The Celtic new year
Jack O the Lantern
Homes racked with fear
Phillis Maguire
And silken Jim Reeves
I used to get scolded
For chewing my sleeves
High ranking scoundrels
Visions of Babe
Satanic aspersions
On Maurice McCabe.

Beidh mé ar ais… Sláinte!

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

We can do Magic.

From life’s thurible
Our thoughts and dreams
Our poems
Emerge like sweet incense
Smouldering
Curling and floating
Towards the cosmos
Like fresh mountain streams
Rising
Dancing
And rolling
Towards their mother-ship
Like visions
Of summer barley
Waving at the moon
They will last
For all time
This is what magic is.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte.

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment