Poetry Please

D

Deleted member 74

Non Registered Member
GUEST
#74
Fella
Fella
Fellare

Unknown, Belfast.

(trans - a chap fell off a lorry)

Barney Hughes'
Bread
Sticks in yer guts
Like Lead


Unknown, Lurgan, c 1940s
Barney Hughes was the inventor of the "Belfast Bap" during famine times, and is buried in Friar's Bush. The full rhyme, as it is known in Belfast is:

Barney Hughes' Bread,
Sticks to your belly like lead,
Not a bit of wonder,
Ye fart like thunder,
Barney Hughes' bread.
 
Joined
Jul 30, 2018
Messages
220
Likes
196
Points
43
#75
Be Kind to Belfast

Red brick in the suburb, white horse on the wall,
Italian marble in the grand city hall;
O stanger from England, why stand ye aghast?
May the Lord in his mercy be kind to Belfast.

We swore by King William, there'd never be seen
An all Ireland parliament at College Green
And at Stormont we're nailing the flag to the mast.
May the Lord in his mercy be kind to Belfast.

This city that harbours our hopes and our fears
Was knocked up from the swamp in the last hundred years;
But the last shall be first and the first shall be last;
May the Lord in his mercy be kind to Belfast

The bricks they may bleed and the rain it may weep
And the damp Lagan fog lulls the city to sleep.
It's to Hell with the future, we'll live in the past
May the Lord in his mercy be kind to Belfast


:innocent:
 
Joined
Oct 31, 2015
Messages
688
Likes
540
Points
93
Location
County Londondoire
#77
These are superb, if a bit too long to quote, so Link

The Fisherman's Calendar by Yun Sondo



SPRING

Sun lights up the hill behind, mist rises on the channel ahead.
Push the boat, push the boat!
The night tide has gone out, the morning tide is coming in.
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, oshwa!
Untamed flowers along the shore reach out to the far village.


And the Tanka Psalter - alas the link is dead so I can only quote a couple

Psalm 24
(a song for honest politicians)

Founded on the floods,
established on the seas,
the earth is the Lord's.
Who shall ascend to his hills?
He that hath clean hands, pure heart.

Psalm 23
(a song of true love)

Led by still waters,
refreshed in the green pastures,
rightful soul restored.
Though I walk through death`s valley
I fear naught - thou art with me.
 
Joined
Jul 30, 2018
Messages
220
Likes
196
Points
43
#78
The Destruction of Sennacherib

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

Byron.
 
Joined
Oct 31, 2015
Messages
688
Likes
540
Points
93
Location
County Londondoire
#80
Couple by the Tang Dynasty Poet and Painter, Wang Wei

Returning to My Cottage

Faraway bells echo in the valley
one by one the woodsmen are heading home.


White clouds at the summit still beckon me
but how dark and somber the mountain has become!


An evening breeze bends the water-rushes
catkin fluff flying everywhere.


Far to the east new grass greens the marshes
but here it is dusk. I go in and bar the door.





Cottage at Chungnan Mountain

In my middle years I set out on the Way
old age finds me still on the mountainside.


When I take it in my head to wander off
exploring the unknowable all by myself


I follow the stream up to the highest falls
and settle down to watch the mists rising.


Sometimes I meet an old woodcutter on the path
we talk and laugh and I forget to go home.
 
Joined
Oct 31, 2015
Messages
688
Likes
540
Points
93
Location
County Londondoire
#82
John Steinbeck fans might recognise this love Poem, Black Marigolds, as he quoted from it in Cannery Row

Even now
Death I take up as consolation.
Nay, were I free as the condor with his wings
Or old kings throned on violet ivory,
Night would not come without beds of green floss
And never a bed without my bright darling.
Most fit that you strike now, black guards,
And let the fountain out before the dawn.

Even now
I know that I have savoured the hot taste of life
Lifting green cups and gold at the great feast.
Just for a small and a forgotten time
I have had full in my eyes from off my girl
The whitest pouring of eternal light.
The heavy knife. As to a gala day.

--E. Powys Mathers
 
Joined
Oct 30, 2015
Messages
186
Likes
126
Points
43
Location
Ireland
#84
“If your officer's dead and the sergeants look white,
Remember it's ruin to run from a fight:
So take open order, lie down, and sit tight,
And wait for supports like a soldier.
Wait, wait, wait like a soldier...”


Rudyard Kipling
Source/Notes:
Young British Soldier, Stanza 12. - Barrack-Room Ballads (1892, 1896)
 
Top Bottom