Best Brogues Poems

Roads rising up from Irish mists in merry jigs
To the flowing tenor song
Sung by the River Boyne born from Tara's Keep
As Patrick's paschal fire
Weaves truth from stones of blarney
And lucky charms of Erin's spring
Cloth hills in kilts of green clovers with four leaves
To the Kerry...

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From north, south, east and west 
This is the town to beat the rest,
Where history and present blend
As through its many streets you wend. 

Where once a monastery so great
From every view would dominate,
Where Pilgrims came to pray and sing
To venerate their martyred king. 

Within...

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He turned into a rooster, right there before my eyes
His arms became plump chicken wings, imagine my surprise
His chest puffed out and swelled with pride his back a feathered thatch
His scruffy brogues were cast aside, as he began to scratch.

He started pecking with his nose,...

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"Headline news! The rag trade is torn to pieces!
Dolls are strewn across the streets with skirts lifted high.
Headline news! Markets are buzzing with voracious bees;
Stinging for honey, for money to burn. Sly.

May I escort you sir to higher gains? Just feed the slot
Machine coffers with...

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If you’re looking for yuletide cynicism here,
you’re shopping in the wrong place.

This is New York City’s time of year.
It’s stood the test of time and it fairly sparkles,
proving that the ordinary can be extraordinary.
With the right lighting.

Lisa’s (parent’s) apartment glitters like our promised heaven on...

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Barefoot, blistered and bleeding
She wanders in from the street
People stare, flabbergasted
Very odd, unheard of in fact

She doesn’t know her size
So like Cinderella, she tries them on
Randomly selecting pretty colours

Silvery, glittery heels
She twirls for the mirror
Sales assistant sighs
Wellingtons for the garden
If she had one!

Satin ice skates
She...

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Here he stands, Edwardian vogue, sometimes with his spats, 
sometimes with his brogues below his dungarees. With rounded collar points and tie, and jacket donned below this flying suit, his waste is tied with simple rope, knowing this, or any flight, could be his last....

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It was the sound that first drew me 
to the low street-facing window.
I cleared a small spot in the grime
and was rewarded by ankles.
Clickity-clack, clickity-clack.

Joie de vivre discernible
in the rhythm of her hurried pace, 
that's only broken when she skipped 
the crack in the concrete...

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It’s 1:30am and we were at a cute little dance club in Dublin called “The Sugar Club.” It’s a converted movie theater with tables in stadium seating rows. That night was Salsa themed, and the regulars were stylin’ - the men dressed in white Havana...

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A respectable girl was she; or so she appeared to be 
Living alone in her dear little cottage at number seventy three

Each day she left home bright and early, as she walked to the railway station
Awaiting the train she would ponder upon her total transmogrification

Travelling...

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From a distance I saw the way she was staring at him
I couldn't possibly fathom what she felt cos I haven't been in
He must have captured her heart and ‘fort knoxxed’ it
I could see the love drool from her eyes and I loved it
Loved seeing...

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Don’t you see the skip of my jolly heels,
skipping about the globe while planting stars?
Ask then from mother earth what joy she feels
When my rubber sole and her corners spar.

In offices, they don brogues and loafers,
See me jolly hop with sparkled laces.
My Chuck 70’s turn...

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Woven from the ripple sentiments,
an overture of things seems to come.
Like an instinctive feel that draws time,
a weighty thought has mighty call.

  Drawn in swooping strokes of ink,
  are bits and pieces of character traits.
  within the discovery of human drama,
 ...

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Conceived of wool and birthed Siamese
In grand factories by hands unheard.
My socks move into separate drawers
Like orphaned siblings.

Soon
Each of my six pairs are strangers
that move in perfect lockstep
inside loafers in offices, brogues in churches and Chucks in clubs.
Then—

For nights’ sakes, on the floor;
Rolled rainbows of...

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