Long Celtic Poems

Long Celtic Poems. Below are the most popular long Celtic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Celtic poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Stud From the Spud State and the Red Dragon Damsel

Marry Your Best Friend To Get the Best of Both Worlds

Not many can claim they met their spouse in a battle of wits
much less the fabled (don't believe a word of it!) Internet.
But my uncle, he's not many. And my new aunt? Well she's a keeper.
And it wasn't love like a summer fling --- but it goes much deeper.
The rumors you heard - it's all too true - they met on Online Scrabble:
sesquipedalians by heart, but in the strictest sense, true Word Warriors.
Her last turn was an "I Do"... and when it came, he knew that he was done for:
pussyfooting through the back door, the tenacious Triple Word Score.
The date was planned - his bachelorhood canned. Compensated on Christmas day,
a wifie from Wales to tie the knot with my uncle the Stud from the Spud State.
The Red Dragon Damsel flew in (too strong to be distressed) into my uncle's country life.
(I still remember his clenched fists pouring buckets at the altar ... his first love)
And she brought her little Dragoness, too --- a fiery spark named Emily.
My job was to walk my new British cousin down the aisle,
as she whispered to me, "Should we link arms?"
And though I should have said,  "What's the harm?"
instead of a rather robotic canter --- it now brings a smile.
My lovely Aunt Laura wore an eggplant dress, as if too challenge the mountain majesty
that peaked through the church window of that fine Idahoan morn.
Her glorious entry introduced by a Celtic song that would have made Enya weep,
as the vertigo of vows came to a close like a caged bird being released.
Mariah Carey's famous Christmas hit took to life --- All I Want Is You, rang true,
as they took each other's arms to dance celebrating an unlikely circumstance.
Crossing oceans to become One: she from Barry, and he from Boise.
The After Party --- filled with giggles, tears and rip-roaring stories from every point of view.
The wedding cake (believe it or not) was a Scrabble board:
one slice was Congratulations - and though a bit silly, to me it was poetry.
And my uncle - you could tell - was simply dumbfounded
as she took the words right out of his mouth

... with a crumb-filled smooch.



Written February 27th, 2016.
For the My Wedding Day Is Special Because... hosted by Olive Eloisa Guillermo

NOTE: I've never been married before, so I hope writing about my uncle's wedding instead is acceptable.
Form: Narrative


Lig Na Basate

In Celtic lore, Lig Na Basate is a dragon that terrorizes Ireland.

Through the rough and rugged bramble
Lig Na Basate was boldly sought,
By a band of hardy hunters
who cared not of the danger t’was fraught.

The Lig Na Basate had killed three hundred men
and wounded two hundred more,
And the only way to stop the beast
was to pierce him at the core.

Turn away ye wee small men
lest the beast come pick your bones,
Return to your loving kin and hearth
and start to rebuild your homes.

Pray then that the Lig Na Basate
has moved on to other hunting grounds,
But wait, too late for now they hear
the burble of the beastie’s sounds.

Then there at the edge of the wooded glade
they saw their quarry sleeping.
And silently the four brave men
drew near as they were creeping.

Then with a snort the terrible head
was lifted into the air.
And sniffed at the scent with dreadful intent
until he found them skulking there.

The four brave men with lance in hand
Stood north, south, east and west.
In hopes that one would find the mark
and send the beast to its final rest.

Ne’er had the beast encountered such men
who showed no concern towards death.
Yet no pity would he ere afford
as they met with the heat of his breath.


With dodge and thrust they went about,
looking for a spot.
To drive home a deadly lance,
before he killed off the lot.

And quick the battle was enjoined,
with blood and spit and sweat.
In hopes that one day their victory,
would outlive their regret.

The beast grabbed one valiant man
and snapped him at his back.
Then ate one more while the other two
continued on with the attack.

The Lig Na Basate swung round
to slice them with his tail.
But a lance pierced his wicked eye,
and he let out a ferocious wail.

He turned his head to gasp the pike
that had nearly left him blind.
Exposing his own naked throat
to the two men from behind

A plunge by one and the next
a gurgle of blood the only sound.
The beast turned to face the men
but with a tilt he hit the ground.

The scales of the mighty dragon 
became the armor of the brave.
And the teeth were buried with the dead
inside their hero’s grave.

And still the tale is often told 
of the beastie and his demise,
And in the great hall still hangs his head
as the victor’s well earned prize.
© Tony Lane  Create an image from this poem.

The Succubus

(A lone old male voice whispers to his loyal dog)

She came at midnight
Last night
You know


As the fireflies outside in our winter garden
Glowed

In a red dress of moving red lips that whispered of new dreams

Knocking like a reborn Anne Rice 
Lestat   

At my heart's window

Pleading with my soul
To cross the threshold and be let in

But I the stone warrior
Whose dear love had already departed

Turned and walked back into the darkness of my loneliness 

Broken-hearted

For when true love once calls
In your lifetime 

And is then suddenly recalled like a severe blow

To the amygdala

All one can do
Is wallow in limbo

For true love is like the holiest of dreams

One of The Universe's best documentaries

Memories
Forged by Brigid to endure

To be kissed 
And be revisited 

Filled with lovers and even enemies

And consumed in any rare moment

Like expensive Hennessey

Bright white candlelights
Providing light 
In a new darkness

And a holy flame to warm any soul 
On any given night

As it clings on to memories of all the people you once loved

And all the things you used to do

To ride through and hold back any new storms

Or midnight visitors like that succubus last night

It's why I put my faith in true love and Jesus Christ

(C)
Copyright John Duffy  

Anne Rice Lestat:

A famous vampire in a novel by Anne Rice.

Amygdala:

Your amygdala is a small part of your brain, but it has a big job. It's a major processing center for emotions. It also links your emotions to many other brain abilities, also links your emotions to many other brain abilities, especially memories, learning and your senses.

Source: Google

Brigid:

She is associated with wisdom, poetry, healing, protection, smithing and domesticated animals.

Cormac's Glossary, written in the 9th century by Christian monks, says that Brigid was "the goddess whom poets adored" and that she had two sisters: 

Brigid the healer and Brigid the smith.

 This suggests she may have been a triple deity.

She is also thought to have some relation to the British Celtic goddess Brigantia.

Source: Google

A succubus (pl.: succubi) is a female demon or supernatural entity in folklores who appears in dreams to seduce men.

Source: Google
Form: Rhyme

Matthew Scott Harris Unmasks Ha Ha Ha Halloween - Part One

After becoming confident 
(das ernest frank gent) handled ignition
jerryrigged knobs, levers, motors, 
nameless other parts quintessentially,
set registers to “understand” vital www xy zone.
----------------------------------------------------------
A blitzkrieg capstone detonated explosive forcees
generating horrendous instantaneous jolt, 
Krakatoa lost mighty noise, 
outrageous phenomena qualified regarding
tremendous unearthly violent 
whiplashing xing yawping zeitgeist!
----------------------------------------------------------
Imagine; The giant from Jack and the beanstalk, deign
Paul Bun, or the Jolly Green Giant, 
straddling an imaginary line
between fall and winter. Therein lied the rub 
(a tub tub three men in a tub), a question of mine
if pecking peccadillos peculiar per pretend puppies
engaged in any...Snoop...doggy style spine
tingling homosexual behavior,

no who matter intimated naked playtime also flourished 
amidst can dyed cornicopia of good 'n plenty eats 
contrasted with paucity, 
life and death, Halloween evolved 
as a celebration and superstition with wine
woman and song. Such weaning of the hallow, 

or hallow of the weaner originated
with ancient Celtic festival of Samhain,
when village people would light vanity of bonfires,
and wear politically incorrect costumes
to ward off roaming ghosts of inept leaders 
if necessary rivaling Tarzan impressions 
swinging on a vine.

The Mound of the Hostages car bon mot dated 
(by this amateur sigh hint hussed) 
at 4,500 to 5000 years old, or there about
suggesting Samhain celebrated long before
first Celts arrived in Ireland
about 2,500 years ago with no cleats boot riveting clout
Samhain (pronounced /'s??w?n/ 

SAH-win or /'sa?.?n/ SOW-in,
Irish pronunciation: without, 
or possibly Greek to this doubt
ting Thomas – [s??u?n?]), 
a Gaelic festival marking the end,
when pollination ceased to flout
ushered advent of harvest season,

and beginning cust tomb of caw king grout,
discussing the epic winter of Gilgamesh, 
or the "darker half" of the year,
when one feasted on giblets and sauer kraut
Halloween rooted er beer reed in ancient biers
caravansari doggedly exhumed along route,
66 (the third beastly 6

Premium Member Dancing In the Rain

,
                       A black cloud descends….                                 ,  ,     ,
                       Each flower grows hopeful!                                                     ,,
                       In jubilation, katydids, laughingly, make noisy ovations!        ,  ,  ,
                       Party-planner, Queen Rosie, STOPS to 
                       unleash verses,with ’xcited Yiddish zeal !
                                    …………………………………………………………….                     ,    ,
D   Daisy Mae, and Lily Gay, bathe in refreshing rains                       ,,
A   Anointed too, are tiny baby buds, with every little drop         ,,   ,,,
N   Narcissus squeals with laughter, and sings a sweet refrain      
C   Crickets dance with plaid berets, and do a Celtic hop! 
I    In the mud we’ll find two pigs, they splash, but then rain STOPS!
N   Nanny Goose, and Granny Goat, play banjos in the band
G   Gardenias, stash away umbrellas, they scrub from end to end
 
R   Rabbits hear the jubilee, and from a hole they pop
A   A squirrel or two, comes down the tree, where all the fuss began
I    In spite of fear, the little mouse, looks out to see what’s up
N   Nearby, the cat, just waves his hat, allows the mice some fun!
N   Dogs join in, STOP chasing cats, they splash, and play like kids
R   Rainbows fill the evening sky, where now the sun peeks in 
O   Overhead, the colors smile, in greens, and blues and reds
P   Pretty is the world tonight, refreshed, and clean, and good
S   Softly STOPS the pitter-pat upon on the evening’s hood
…………………………………………………………………………
Thirsty trees, and tender tulip tongues, tasted today’s tantalizing tonic 
Rain STOPS to retreat, to replenish, refresh, repair, and rest
Delighted dancers STOP, to discuss day’s divine delivery duties
Rainbows remind recovering revelers reasons to STOP and reflect, rejoice, recent rainy rewards
Slowly, in soft slippers, STOPping to shine, sun sets silently. 
Satisfactorily satiated, the scenery seems serene, sparkling and sleepy…..  

..............................................................................................................................
Inspired by Debbie's Contest "Aye, Aye, and a Mistress"
Form: Acrostic


Idee Fixe

don't even think about it
a bucket of motel ice in the face
proving the thing in itself does not exist
because he registered all the meanings all the time
with a nausea so profound 
the retching never ended
rearranging all my proteins
in a hypnotic anarexo-bulemic frenzy 
I marched to the beat of crawling flesh
an x-rated dermatologist tattooed Celtic blue
in an idiot ritual purification
couldn't find a long-haired dog for winter
settled for an inferno of intrigue and dissipation
in a tin shack at the edge of an endless swamp
it wasn't serenity that's a rock solid fact
the horse hairs stung across his butt
Mistress Cheetah grabbed the microphone
she had saved him from pointlessness in the past
weaving many paths upon his terrain
in a fairy tale about fairy tales
fear swept the land as a craving for snacks
the ones who get no peace rose in rebellion
ridden by that cancer of abuse
the great canon that we are but animals
the Brahmins and their bullies faced extinction
so they cut a deal to escape the cro magnon hordes
coldly calculating the cost to nations
in a curious mix of apoplexy and daring
trying to duplicate the distortions of time
a grandiose epic on the nature of Nature
and the desert of human intellect 
clanked and hummed into bloom
an infectious enthusiasm swept the palisades
curing the sick and raising the dead
bypassing the humiliation of needing to lie
now if that doesn't please your ghost
here's something that will
I'll give you the formula now
in a dance of erupting minutae
if the West is decadently feudal
the East is feudaly decadent
this is my message to Earth
multiply yourself by yourself
and avoid counterfeit soothsayers
like you avoid a broken pin ball flipper
in a sea of hard financial assets
some of the angels are stuffed dolls
and confabulate without knowing it
where everyone is a game piece
tell me what is not measured
like wild geese honking through the night
part of a vast migration of souls
with the moon low and full
in a time of riches and knowing
in a teasing ****** of ignorance
in a power surge that spiked through the wires
the closer to the pillar you stood
the more transparent it all became
end of transmission

Premium Member Croeso Y Cymru

Wales to me is ...

          places of unpronounceable beauty

                    steam trains coastal walks in the rain

                              castles Cromlechs and Celtic crosses


Diolch yn fawr for the memories ...

          beautiful welcoming people

                    stubborn and fiercely resilient

                              who gave me a home for years


An immigrant greeted with kindness ...

          Wales is where I raised my five children

                    bandaged scraped knees and innocence 

                              set them forth on their wonderful journey


The most beautiful flag in the world ...

          fiery red dragon on white and green

                    pastures for magic passion and love

                              proud banner and mythical legends


An anthem unsurpassed by any other ...

          land of poets singers and people of stature

                    spirit not hindered by treacherous hands

                              or silencing the sweet harp of my land


My farmhouse of field stone and wood ...

          coal fired Aga warming the kitchen

                     providing shelter and sparkling dreams

                               cows sheep and daffodils cheering me on


Rugby propelling this tiny nation

          past oppression and invasion

                    staking its claim on a peaceful map

                             my daughter plays for the national team


Eisteddfod recitals dance and song ...

          my kids trilingual from the tip of their tongue

                    international examples of healing the wounds

                              of ignorance belligerence and aggression


Charming Wales to me is ...

          part of my heritage and narration

                    sea shores and mountain retreats

                              part of my body mind and soul


05th June 2020 and counting my blessing


‘Croeso y Cymru’ - - - Welcome to Wales

‘Diolch yn fawr’ - - - Thank you very much

Fifth stanza with translations from the anthem
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Celtic Dreams: Penned With Vlad Raven

I close my eyes and silken thoughts flow through my mind, 
The time before time is opened, with all its glory and majesty. 
I bring you with me my beautiful queen, within a dream, 
To a time that is yet to come, or a time that is long since past. 
The time before time, a blueprint of life, of all that shall ever be. 
In this land of all tomorrows Love shall surely flow, 
A river of life ever running across silver cords of memory. 
My Golden queen, come join me within my Celtic Dream. 

Your dream is mine, M 'Lord. Your thoughts reach my heart.
The river is swift and deep and I immersed in Love for you.
Time has no place nor meaning in the heart of our dream,
Past, present, or in all our tomorrows, we shall be together.
Our silver cords of memory will never tarnish, my Celtic Lord.
They tie our silken thoughts together, never to be torn apart.
In any land, upon any sea,  winds call out your name to me.
Tis you I Love. No other will I ever join in our Celtic Dream.

Meet me tonight before the great white veil between worlds, 
Where in our connected minds we ever meet each night. 
I want but to gently take your hand my queen and enter our Celtic World. 
There within the emerald green fields we shall join together in Love, 
In the valley of echoes our love's song shall sing forever, 
On the plateau of Arrach we shall look into our futures horizon. 
My beloved, come with me into our Celtic scene, 
Take my hand and we shall enter our Celtic Dream. 

Rays of waning sun bid farewell, and amethyst twilight appears.
Eagerly, I listen for your footfall, for another night is nigh upon us.
Beyond the veil we shall tryst in emerald grasses and lavender heather,
Where enfolded in each others arms, we intimately whisper of adoration.
Our words shall softly echo through valley and vale in perfect harmony,
A song of sweet serenade until we've reached the mountain top.
There, hand in hand, we shall gaze into a million new tomorrows,
Knowing in each one, Love shall carry us deep into our Celtic Dream.


In visions of harmony, this Celtic Dream was born.  Thank you, Mike.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Caim

"Caim"



Caim 
in time
labyrinthine
tale swallowed
serpentine 

Caim 
in time
heart kept 
secure in the 
central fortress mine

Serpentine
swallowed
labyrinthine tales
cooed her love Basilisk
night terrors and turtledoves

Turtledoves
followed trails 
of diamonds dripping
through hazy windows emerald
reflecting you

precious pearls 
slipping wisdom o’er
rusty halos for a golden crown
we all fall down 
after rain comes sunshine

Caim 
You 
in time 
to find my love
labyrinthine

little fugue 
in G minor
Caim 
You 
in time

(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
gvlm



“Like a Woman Should” / Hayley Mary
https://youtu.be/_hrIFu8RNdA




"The circle is open, 
but never broken. 
The love of Light 
is forever in my heart.

I thank you Light 
for lending 
your energy tonight.
I call the Guardian 
of the element of Light
to watch over this sacred circle.

Merry meet, 
and merry part, 
and merry meet again."





Caim
https://tadhgtalks.me/2016/06/30/celtic-wisdom-the-caim/



Magic
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_circle



Ring a Ring o' Roses
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ring_a_Ring_o%27_Roses




fugue, n.
1.
Music - 
a contrapuntal composition in which a short melody or phrase (the subject) is introduced by one part and successively taken up by others and developed by interweaving the parts.
2.
Psychiatry - 
a loss of awareness of one's identity, often coupled with flight from one's usual environment, associated with certain forms of hysteria and epilepsy.



Fugue in G Minor
Why is it called Little Fugue in G minor?
Bach's Fugue in G Minor for organ (BWV 578) is known as the "Little" G minor not because it is a work of small importance or even because it is an unusually short work in its own right, but simply so that it and the much longer and later "Great" G minor Fantasia and Fugue (BWV 542) might not be mistaken for one another ...



"Maid"/Netflix
https://www.netflix.com/au/title/81166770

Premium Member Lilizzi

I am Lilizzi, or the spirit of fire, I am the pure essence of the flame itself,
all fear and adore me. Does not every star in the heavens burn because of me?
Out of all four elements, I am by far the most mysterious.

Every culture has their deities to honour me by, to name a few,
Norse goddess Freya, Irish goddess Brigit, Celtic goddess Aodh, Hindu goddess
Agnayi, Greek goddess Hesta, Egyptian goddess Sekhmet.

But of course, you all know the Egyptian god Ra? And believe me, there are just as many gods as there are goddesses. But in this male-dominated world, I felt the urge to bring attention to some of the goddesses instead.

But I digress, you are not here to learn about the gods and goddesses of Lilizzi.
No. You want to learn my mysteries and secrets, don't you?

Well, I say, as a moth! Have you ever wondered why a moth is drawn to my flame? And not just moths, I have been known to hypnotize most humans too,
have you ever wondered why that is?

Okay, let me tell you a little secret then, you may find this hard to believe.
Mankind's first ever form was also fire itself, but it doesn't stop there, you see,
mankind's last evolutional form shall also be fire too. Full circle.

So heed my advice, next time you are near an open flame or fire, study closely
and meditate on its movements, shapes, forms, feed it your breath, dance with it, and know what the learned Druids of the past refer to as Headfire.

They weren't known as the "Fire Fathers" for nothing. And as the Brethren of the Celtic tribes, they held four fire festivals a year, and still honour them today, they are Imbolc, Beltane, Lammas and Samhain.

I don't ask for your worship, only your respect. Who else renews and promotes growth in the woods and forests? The Australian Aboriginals knew to burn back the land at the right time, and they weren't the only ones.

So don't fear me, respect is all I ask. My mysteries are waiting for you to unravel. Burning brighter than ever, Lilizzi.

13~June~2017

For Create a Character contest
Sponsored by: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
© White Wolf  Create an image from this poem.

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