Best Donnybrook Poems
Everybody loves it when the team scores a goal.
This is what all hockey fans extol.
The lights start flashing and the siren sounds.
Cheering is heard from the seats that abounds.
Many fans go to hockey games each night.
However, I go to see the players fight.
After some hooking, slashing, or a mean cross-check,
the victim wants to break the other player’s neck.
They drop their gloves and throw a left hook.
Before you know it, there is a big donnybrook.
Each of the three twenty-minute periods is nice.
It is all like World War Three on ice.
Categories:
donnybrook, sports, hockey,
Form:
Rhyme
"Der aint nothin wrong with dat,"
said Haile Brown.
Mrs. Quincy's twin Vietnamese spotted ponies
had been shot
both dead
for trespassing on L. Ron Clark's property.
"They scared my sheep.
Chased em all over the place.
Aint gonna put up with none of that,"
said L. Ron Clark.
"Reckon she shoulda penned em up.
Cant spect no one to tol-rate that sorta nonsense,"
said Haile Brown.
Mrs. Quincy had a different view.
"I put up plenty of times
with them rotten sheep of his
grazing in my pasture.
You don't see me shooting them down."
Haile Brown worked as a ranch hand
for L. Ron Clark.
"So naturally his views would be tainted,"
said Mrs. Quincy.
"Views don't make no difference here,"
said L. Ron Clark.
"The facts is all layed out clear.
Them donkeys was trespassing.
Causing a ruckus among my flock.
I had just cause to shoot them."
Growing red in the face,
about ready to raise a donnybrook,
Mrs. Quincy replied:
"Shame on you! L. Ron Clark!
An experienced rancher of your sort
could have easier than not lassoed them ponies
and take them off
than load that gun
and aim and kill
them innocent creatures of God."
"I reckon Ma'am,
Mr. Clark done what he feel nec-sary,"
said Haile Brown.
"I reckon Mr. Brown!
that Mr. Clark! hasn't the character to do what's right,"
said Mrs. Quincy.
"And you're just an ignorant fool
who wouldn't know right from wrong
if it fell on your big toe."
Haile Brown sunk down
into his collar
ashamed to be put down
in such a way
by such a woman.
L. Ron Clark's mouth
fell open,
ready to respond...
but the sound of the gavel
put an end to it.
The Judge said,
"I've heard enough
from all of you.
I'll leave to my chamber
and come back with a decicion.
Until then,
try and be civil."
Categories:
donnybrook, social
Form:
Narrative
I
one Fine-
morning when the garden was misty-
ethereal the beauty
birds mellifluous
brouhaha loud and donnybrook
a gang came
fluttering over the fence and
canoodled the flowers
sweetly
when the day was infinite serenity
the birds
lilting and murmuring
loud and donnybrook
and buzzingbees were buzzing
from jewel-toned and eye-catching blooms
oh
summer
and
the
sun-kissed
color-infused birdies
loud
and
donnybrook
II
here there
sweet butterflies
breathtaking
gamboling
delicate wings
always a-fluttering
insects
dilly-dally flip-flopping
hummingbirds whirling
a black cat licks
his lips
whiskers twitching
sneaky shifty
lissome fearless hunter
sneak-a-sneak
slithers
woosh watch out hummingbirdie
with your pretty wings
fly away fast
faster and faster
for the cat is a hunter
the cat hunts
the cat
quiet and deadly
go
dancing
hummingbird
hummingbird
turning
twirling
spinning
III
raven hair-tangled girl
gathering daisies
pansies
wildflowers
And drip-dropping petunias
in this sun-drenched garden
stops to gongoozle
and a butterfly drifts-
upon the gathered-blooms
________________________
August 15, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/Garden Rambling
Copyright Protected, ID 16-818-665-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Categories:
donnybrook, poetry, writing,
Form:
Free verse
I loved you John Wayne!
I wished you were my father
or maybe an older brother
who’d tutor me to be tough
when manners weren’t enough
and toughness was needed
that civility be heeded
and not to brag or complain.
O I loved you John Wayne!
As soon as I was old enough
to earn the price of admission
I saw your films in succession
at the first run houses down
in the big deal part of town
and enshrined each one on a list
taped to my bedside wall
and read about the ones I’d missed.
Shucks, I loved you most of all!
Fort Apache and Red River
took pride of place on the page;
they’d eaten up my weekly wage.
I missed the Yellow Ribbon;
I hoped I’d be forgiven.
At the Rio and the Broad
(in a dicey neighborhood)
I atoned with films you’d done
before I was even born.
Western after Western
and tales of oil and whiskey
and scheming ladies, O so risky!
I hoped I’d be excused
when I compromised my muse
by adding well-built gals
to Duke and all his pals.
Montez, Russell, and Lake
made my hormones quake.
O I loved you, John Wayne.
I could feel your bashful pain
When the pretty lady roped you
and hat in hand you’d bow,
the furrow deepening on your brow,
and utter monosyllables plus “Ma’am,”
no longer a ram, more like a lamb.
O I shared you pain, John Wayne!
And still I loved you John Wayne,
your true grit and donnybrook,
your menacing brow, the look
that said, “Enough, my friend.
“This bull is going to end!”
You swaggered? (not quite it--
as if your boots didn’t quite fit?)
You took him by the horns and shook;
Plomp! Down went the snook!
How I loved you, John Wayne!
And I love you still when again I see
the doughty Duke on my smart TV
as much as Papa’s lone old man,
with fish chewed down to the bone
loved Joltin’ Joe Dimaggio
when the Clipper’s legs began to go
and he was hobbled by his heel.
John Wayne, you were the real deal.
Categories:
donnybrook, assonance, humorous, , western,
Form:
Light Verse
Love is all around us, need to know where to look
There are many different kinds listed in the love book
There's love of a child
Or a pet much love you've piled
But my love for you has caused a donnybrook
© Jack Ellison 2016
Categories:
donnybrook, love,
Form:
Limerick
Life the abattoir of emotions,
create the corps that is the heart.
What donnybrook takes the tole?
Empathy, the vicarious plight,
direct the cruel incorrigible start.
Categories:
donnybrook, depression
Form:
Free verse
Orville C. Cameron
1889-1914
Oh, such larks indeed.
Over at the State School pond,
Way back in the tuft of Eucalyptus shade,
We swam, we yelled, and we laughed.
We, the gang from lower Painter Street,
We, the tough boys with fists of brass!
We heckled, we jumped and we cursed,
The big boys from upper Newlin Street,
Those cowards with flowers for fists.
Ha! They thought we couldn’t stand.
They thought we would run and hide,
Here in this Dorland bone yard.
But we stood our ground that day,
That donnybrook day in 1905,
Way back, way back in the tuft of cypress shade,
Over by County Road and Hadley Street.
We boys, the tough boys, with kicks of iron!
Stabs of steel!
Our finest moment while alive,
My finest memory while dead.
So, how did I die you ask?
Sorry, but no response from me.
Just ask the Big Boys from upper Newlin Street,
Those cowards with flowers for fists.
Categories:
donnybrook, earth,
Form:
Epitaph
UNSUPPORTED CODE DONNYBROOK
Egregious Nonplus:
A hopeless cause.
Comfortless, lachrymose
A mutinous repause.
Recalcitrant – All love is now absent
From grinding flagitious jaws.
Treasonous laws!
Justice? Just because.
We are allies of chaos.
This lost cause
Is your failure
Your loss,
Not ours.
We are diamonds of the future.
Your antiquated assumptions,
Are just archaic flaws.
Categories:
donnybrook, deep,
Form:
Free verse
like some sorority or fraternity house
left the sanctified righteous West Wing
with powder puffs sans canisters
of pepper spray, whereby
most docile, humble, and liberal took a page
from playbook of Pandora, and took an aimless swing
at the root cause of melee by hurling objet’s d’art
at the pompous trump ping
Septuagenarian, whose platoons of goons
rent asunder peoples against their king
the donnybrook heathen, whose remarks
against libertarian rubric that made America great
wantonly reviving prejudices declared dead
from yesteryear and his attempt to bring
back the glory days, when Whistler Blowers
getting water boarded and aching
deigning to implement dictatorship
of the Proletariat as a capital idée fix
weaving together, the salient strengths
viz founding fathers credo gave licks
to King George, and now in an ironic
twist and shout of fate through eclectic mix
basket of deplorables further shamed
by being routed by the New York Nicks
sewed jaws, heads of state, and dignitaries
with limping bodies spent like derricks
Oil used up and no place to go except
to keep Alice Cooper Company with toys in the attics.
Categories:
donnybrook, america, anger, angst, betrayal,
Form:
A tussle
A fray
A skirmish
A soiree
A fracas
A fight
A scuffle
A blight
A scrap
A brawl
A melee
A free for all
A quarrel
A clash
A donnybrook
A birthday bash
Categories:
donnybrook, father, funny, people,
Form:
Quatrain
when Democrats outliers gnashed
teeth, and nonestablishmentarian outlaws
pistol whipped and hashed
tagged traitors who roared America
went bankrupt at sold at fire sale price slashed
when Donald Trump ran the country
into the ground evidenced by Molotov Cocktails residue
in concert with the sulfuric odor of hand grenades trashed
like some sorority or fraternity house
left the sanctified righteous West Wing
with powder puffs sans canisters
of pepper spray, whereby
most docile, humble, and liberal took a page
from playbook of Pandora, and took an aimless swing
at the root cause of melee by hurling objet’s d’art
at the pompous trump ping
Septuagenarian, whose platoons of goons
rent asunder peoples against their king
the donnybrook heathen, whose remarks
against libertarian rubric that made America great
wantonly soup peer egg go whist tickly
reviving prejudices declared dead
from yesteryear and his attempt to bring
back the glory days, when Whistler Blowers
getting water boarded and aching
deigning to implement dictatorship
of the Proletariat as a capital idée fix
weaving together, the salient strengths
viz founding fathers credo gave licks
to King George, and now in an ironic
twist and shout of fate through eclectic mix
basket of deplorables further shamed
by being routed by the New York Nicks
sewed jaws, heads of state, and dignitaries
with limping bodies spent like derricks
Oil used up and no place to go except
to keep Alice in Chains and
Alice Cooper Company with toys in the attics.
Categories:
donnybrook, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
For twenty years,
Tears in-between,
Rain and rust
And gray-beard dust.
A flooded flagon,
Empty-dry. Laid aside.
A spook to his wolf,
savior to the squirrels.
A languid man snores
While robins lay eggs
In his briery beard.
Blue and yellow eyes
Startle awake.
Oh what trouble
To sleep all night!
The Kaatskills mock,
In torment
Of bygone years,
This stinking man and
his tangled long beard.
Dame Van Winkle’s
Not dead from grief,
But from restless lips
Of donnybrook.
Like all ages, past to future,
Politics ticks and tocks.
Rip hangs upon the pendulum,
Not knowing which side he’s on.
His daughter’s his savior.
His namesake’s his doppelgänger.
The old man rises from the hills,
Baffled and half-moon shy.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
This might amuse those who know the story of Rip Van Winkle by Washington Irving.
Categories:
donnybrook, sleep,
Form:
Free verse
If you go over to that craps table today,
chances are, with empty pockets you will walk away.
You will be sorry if you adamantly stay.
A few lucky suckers may experience a win.
However, evanescent will be their victorious grin.
Whatever they win will be thrown back to the house.
After their bankroll is tapped, they will feel like a louse.
Remember what happened the last time in Atlantic City?
You lost that fiery temper of yours, and tangled with security.
In no time at all, what developed was a fist city.
The outcome of the donnybrook was not very pretty.
They booted you out of the place, and didn’t feel any pity.
For all you did, you should have realized.
From that particular hotel, you would be ostracized.
Today, we are on the other side of the Delaware.
In this Pennsylvania house, no better will you fare.
Categories:
donnybrook, games, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
Most imp potent and salient playbook page...
'bout fluffiness of hair after washing
Now get ready for...
yup intelligent persiflage
determining if potty "talk" gauge
correctly calibrated courtesy this sage.
Beats out global warming
by a long stretch
most important commander
must set example you betch
chore life no matter
if miserable wretch
survives impeachable offenses
enough to make me kvetch,
especially four more years
yours truly will once again become
bulimic anorexic wretch.
Versus important crisis
of planet Earth,
where Gaia's bountiful
nature woolworth
analogous wharf resplendent
docks side of ships berth state
housing electricity generating
mined resources inevitable dearth
warming chill folks
courtesy homey hearth
reminiscent during inchoate
fetal nine months
in utero signaling imminent birth.
Quite understandable reasonable,
non negotiable, inviolable...
blah... blah... blah
scalp itching blather
particularly to prioritize
orange-blond hirsute fullness
upon rinsing sudsy shampoo lather
as expressed by this
post baby boomer
pencil neck geek father,
who attempts to walk poetic feet
across cyber sea
miraculously to slather.
Trademark seedy nonsensical
farcical gobbledygook,
perhaps posthumously printing
bestselling blank paginated chapbook
ghost written by Trump
titled Art of the Steal
detailing head and shoulders how to look
suave and sophisticated all business
swiftly tailored harried style shook
White House disguised himself as rook
key "Fake" incognito president
recruiting apprenticed bartered bride
slow vacuuming trophy wife crook
cow hoard milching, kickstarting,
inciting, generating... donnybrook
coiffing pompadour resembling
forefathers windblown periwig.
Nope not even one hair
mussed out of place,
as if teetering fountainhead
supporting Atlas shrugged
top heavy topples
and crashes scattering
bajillion easy pieces everyplace
analogous to humpty dumpty
each and every last vestige
vanishing without a trace
exiting out cloaca
subsequently intently watching
toilet bowl royally flush
clockwise if within northern hemisphere
heavy enough to sink submarine
haint no reason yours truly might gush
even if abominable ballast
saves queasy passengers
plummeting thru aerospace.
Categories:
donnybrook, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Political Verse
Puck, being a dummy is something you can't deny.
You took that flower's nectar, and put it on the wrong guy.
Lysander was intended to be the lover of Hermia.
Now, he has fallen in love with the other woman, Helena.
Helena has two lovers; Demetrius and Lysander whom you mistook.
Hermia and Helena are about to have a donnybrook.
Get me the flower that will reverse Lysander's spell.
Hurry before this scene becomes a living hell.
Based on the play "A Midsummer Night's Dream" by William Shakespeare
Categories:
donnybrook, confusion, literature,
Form:
Rhyme