Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Charley Pride # John le Carré # Emmylou & Co

Another sad victim
Sweet Charley Pride
All time and a day
For tears to subside
Swans bow their heads
In bleak Tarmonbarry
A spy by the fire
Good bye John le Carré
Contemptuous morons
Hog the abyss
Harbouring trash
Like vats of stale piss
Edna turns ninety
And still looks so fair
Wild and enthralling
Yes chiseled from Clare
Ducklings and mammy
On troop in Killavil
Fiddles and flutes
And Puck’s golden gavel
Thin Lizzy’s old boys
Arrived back in town
Emmylou, folk
Lets go Jackson Browne
Dreadlocks and Rastas
Spliffs skins and hash
Bob Marley and reggae
Sit back and crash.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte.

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Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

John Lennon # Barbara Windsor # Paolo Rossi

Four decades now
Please give peace a chance
John Lennon still sings
Of love and romance
A big crock of gold
And a punk with some pep
I just saw the film
By Temple and Depp
Palladian wings
Grand Frenchpark House
It’s sweeps and it’s lawns
With duck pond to douse
Artists can hear
The colours of spring
They also can see
The wind as it sings
Parturient-like swillers
Of black creamy stout
Long days on the docks
Before every bout
Dame Barbara Windsor
Has left us last day
With bold Paolo Rossi
Sleep softly I pray
Eighteen soft strokes
Are tolling at noon
Avoca’s church bells
As winter sun swoons.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte.

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Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Ballyjamesduff # Day-Lewis # Peter Alliss

Dublin v Cavan
It’s time for some snuff
Come home Paddy Reilly
To Ballyjamesduff
Tipp versus Mayo
It’s been a long wait
Since terror and slaughter
Burst through the gate
Two sibling steeples
God’s stalagmites
Frost on the Bull Ring
Winter still bites
Sermons in Irish
Seas síos is seas suas
Playing the part
Like Daniel Day-Lewis
The great man of golf
Receives the great chalice
Your fairway is clear
Farewell Peter Alliss
Words from above
From lectern to nave
Tis just the first step
From cradle to grave
The Normans arrived
Below in Duncannon
They went on the sauce
Mad mushrooms and salmon.

Beidh mé ar ais…sláinte!

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Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Ballyjamesduff # Day-Lewis # Peter Aliss.

Dublin v Cavan
It’s time for some snuff
Come home Paddy Reilly
To Ballyjamesduff
Tipp versus Mayo
It’s been a long wait
Since terror and slaughter
Burst through the gate
Two sibling steeples
God’s stalagmites
Frost on the Bull Ring
Winter still bites
Sermons in Irish
Seas síos is seas suas
Playing the part
Like Daniel Day-Lewis
The great man of golf
Receives the great chalice
Your fairway is clear
Farewell Peter Alliss
Words from above
From lectern to nave
Tis just the first step
From cradle to grave
The Normans arrived
Below in Duncannon
They went on the sauce
Mad mushrooms and salmon.

Beidh mé ar ais…sláinte!

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Plog …. ( Poetry blog)

Morrissey # Robbie Keane # David Prowse # Michael Harding

Gloomy old days
Alas there’s some light
Music and song
It’s the Toy Show tonight
Dinosaur bones
In Islandmagee
Sweet county Antrim
Pure gold by the sea
Words are like sapphires
In forests of kelp
Shafts of clear sunlight
And moonbeams to help
Britpop was magic
Morrissey is green
A real life cousin
Of one Robbie Keane
Bold constellations
Herdsmen and grouse
The stars have aligned
For big David Prowse
Wool folk in Foxford
Spinning and carding
Life saving minds
Like good Michael Harding
Thuribles of life
And incense like dreams
Thoughts seem to rise
Like fresh mountain streams.

Beidh mé ar ais…Sláinte!

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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.

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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!

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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.

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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!

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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.

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