two brothers hailed from the old country
from Donnybrook
one more like an engineer
the other like a cook
they specialized in pancakes
the best, you can't deny
Sean made them taste like heaven
Finn stacked them high
supplies came from all around
in wagons and in trucks
Sean whipped up the batter
and ol' Finn he constructs
with eggs from every chicken
and milk from every cow
maple syrup miracles
from the oats that they did grow
when these flapjack masters
grew old and had to die
they made a stack of hotcakes
and they climbed it to the sky
kids, each time you eat griddle cakes
you should be like me
stack 'em high
and think of Sean and Finn McGee
Categories:
donnybrook, brother, death, food, fun,
Form: Rhyme
Two brothers hailed from the old country, from Donnybrook -
one more like an engineer, the other like a cook.
They specialized in pancakes - the best, you can't deny.
Sean made them taste like heaven, and Finn stacked them high.
Supplies came from all around, in wagons and in trucks.
Sean whipped up the batter, and ol' Finn he constructs,
with eggs from every chicken and milk from every cow,
maple syrup miracles from the oats that they did grow.
When these flapjack masters grew old and had to die,
they made a stack of hotcakes and they climbed it to the sky.
Kids, each time you eat griddle cakes, you should be like me,
stack 'em high and think of Sean and Finn McGee.
Categories:
donnybrook, brother, food, silly,
Form: Rhyme
The 20-pound butterball turkey rests
On a table laden with condiments;
We bow our heads, reach out our hands and bless
And say grace which presupposes our content.
But as we eat, the elephant harrumphs
To lead our banter and wordplay astray,
We assert on Gaza or butterball Trump
Or some other donnybrook of the day.
Alas, the turkey is now quite slighted
And acrimony stuffs the upper hand;
Our argued points are skewed with gestured knife,
Though not a one convinced to alter stand.
Afterward, leftovers are jammed into
Vacuum bags should we choose to someday use.
Categories:
donnybrook, family, thanksgiving, thanksgiving day,
Form: Sonnet
There was a day once
when the factory boys
took to a rusty van
driving through the early morning dark
to play soccer on a muddy field.
Our team was called. now let me think,
does it matter that I cannot remember?
Let's call our crew the 'Raging Eagles'.
the Eagles had pimples and bad breath,
but we were all mates for the day.
It's not easy to 'rage' on a rutted field
in the middle of an industrial estate
on a misty Sunday, but we did our best.
The other team arrived full of snarky-jeers and leers.
Insults were returned, added to and sent back.
The game was more a donnybrook than
regular soccer.
Rules were made up on the fly
only to be broken.
Legs were kicked black and blue,
one arm and a head diagnosed by one and all
as totally for33ked.
Later we convened to a pub
at the other end of that sooty town
and downed a few, then a few more,
vowing to be brothers forever.
Categories:
donnybrook, poetry,
Form: Free 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
Whatta a great feeling waking up with the birds
To hell with the crankies, they're all full of turds
A positive outlook
In life's donnybrook
Guarantees a great day, the poopy stuff it curbs
Categories:
donnybrook, fun,
Form: Limerick
Whatta a great feeling waking up with the birds
To hell with the crankies, they're all full of turds
A positive outlook
In life's donnybrook
Guarantees a great day, the poopy stuff it curbs
Categories:
donnybrook, life,
Form: Limerick
Whatta a great feeling waking up with the birds
To hell with the crankies, they're all full of turds
A positive outlook
In life's donnybrook
Guarantees a great day, the poopy stuff it curbs
Categories:
donnybrook, happiness,
Form: Limerick
Whatta a great feeling waking up with the birds
To hell with the crankies, they're all full of turds
A positive outlook
In life's donnybrook
Guarantees a great day, the poop stuff it curbs
Categories:
donnybrook, feelings,
Form: Limerick
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
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
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
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
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
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
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