Long Gael Poems
Long Gael Poems. Below are the most popular long Gael by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gael poems by poem length and keyword.
A bird’s eye view
conversation overheard in a park
somewhere near you
Hey, Ori ... what’s up?
Nothing much, Marque.
Just flying low, bro.
Big Ollie, the Ruby Cleaners rooftop dove,
shared some bad popcorn news.
Oh, yeah. What’s the latest bird flu blues.
He said that fake plague sho’ feels real.
I crowed: Amen, Big Ollie! Ain’t too many humans
in the park giving us our morning meal.
Funny you should mention that ill subject matter downwind trash.
Marque, the sparrow twins: Ida and Edie,
spoke the same truth at the Old Gael Pub St. Paddy cancelled bash.
It’s a shame, Ori ... it surely is.
Some skyscraper bipedal giving us po’ avians
the hard asphalt gleaning biz.
Mr. Sherwood, griot-rapping Robin in the hood,
chirped the same sad, Friar Tuck uncharitable tale as well.
Those oxy-carrier humans ain’t leaving many peanut shells.
COVID-19 weather report sho’ don’t look good.
It seems the community spread folded the picnic table attitude.
Nowadays, them parrot-talking owl eyes seem frightfully rude.
Yeah, Marque ... bro’ it sho’ seems that way to me.
The pecks are snow geese light,
guess it’s goose-stepping, premature departure time
to take an early migration flight
Ori, I cede wish those humans an E. Poe, “Raven,” fare well goodbye:
Nevermore
comes the crumb elation when the Laugher high-roller cormorant cry.
I am not trying to make light the pain and suffering going on globally.
I just wanted to put a smile on any sad hearts.
— Romantic Warrior
Scot Dane Gael Celt all went into the meld
Brit and Moor aye even more it took to make
This Erin brood that kills itself
All in the name of Christ
Who was this chief
This pure white thief to take
To set this price
Who’s stolen Irish fame
And in its place in name of grace
Has caused her so much shame?
Has some fool put out druid eyes
Removed their tongues
Cut off their ears
To cause this foolish waste of tears
Celt warriors would despise?
Where is the love of growing green
The taste of love so seldom seen
In other races who have been
Less noble less inspired
Is grudging blood too proud to say
We’re bloody sick and tired?
No Irish lad should have to carry
burdens meant to break him
Stand up and spit into God’s eye
and tell him you forsake him
Embrace your kin and worry not
about a heaven’s fears
Hold Truth and Honor high and dry
And wade through Shannon’s tears
To live and laugh and love and die
In long thick Irish years
The Tale of Artuir mac Aedan; The light of the West.
In The Begining.
Behold my son this our home of Airer Goidell
in the land of Airer Goidell in Alba.
Far from our birthland of Ulaid across the sea,
a sea ruled by Manaanan Mac Lir
We came here following Gabran our clann chief,
in our wooden ships braving seas rough and wild,
Picts were here before us but they didnt flee,
took us in and became our friends indeed,
They were horsepeople of reknown,
gave us the skill without regret or redress,
all this began years gone past.
You my boy may not be a Ri here,
Perhaps a leader of warriors strong and skilled,
for i fear this land will be desired and fought over,
keeping it safe and secure like you would a lover,
Your still a babe who giggles and bubbles blow,
but Artair mac Aedan, you will not be slow,
to serve us well and a legend to grow.
andrew mcintyre. 11/01/2024.
See this now:
Easter 1916
Two
roads dissapated from
blacktop to
gravel to
dirt.
Two roads driving through the Emerald Isle parralell to one
another-
or was it X and why?
a perverse axis, perpendicular, split in
the tumultuous fit?
Its almost like the rising never happened, its
almost like the battle wasn't won.
A bloody easter, a bloody nation,
freedom bought by fusillade and flame, fear flown
from the muzzle of a patriot's gun.
And now a new flag rises in hope of victory and final peace.
It is an Irish banner
a radiant pennon of Green, of
Orange,
of White,
A flag of dreams for paddies just like me,
waiting for the call to arms,
the march towards victory.
Clan-na-Gael at your doorstep, baby!
Clan-na-Gael armed and ready!
You can wash that down with a protestant cake!
Form:
How
beautiful...............an image
suddenly...............conceived
an instant..............thought
following...............a terminal
caesura.................pause
hesitation..............or dislocation
of attention...........written
read by.................a seeing eye
or said
aloud
Columnar style after Gael Turnbull(1928-2004,a Scottish doctor-poet.
Turnbull created the imagist Spaces form in his collection Briefly (1967) a two line poem with a larger than usual space
Turnbull called poems using his device ‘Spaces’, and noted of these ‘The visual “space” is,a pause or hesitation, even a temporary dislocation of attention’ .
See my imagist Spaces poetry examples first posted here 2007
SPACES-THEOPHANY
This is my beloved Son
Hear Him?
Note:'spaces' is an imagism form .It has a title and three line ,the middle being blank and left to the readers imagination. I labelled it 'spaces' as the middle line is an unsaid poignant pause or image.
Gael Turnbull(1928-2004,a Scottish doctor-poet created the imagist Spaces form in his collection Briefly (1967) a two line poem with a larger than usual space
Turnbull called poems using his device ‘Spaces’, and noted of these ‘The visual “space” is,a pause or hesitation, even a temporary dislocation of attention’ .
Note:(ichthys), or XIesoûs Khristós, Theoû Huiós, Sot?r;translates into English as 'Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior'
spaces-PECKING ORDER
Sparrow on the bird table
the hawk has a feast
Note:'spaces' is an imagism form .It has a title and three line ,the middle being blank and left to the readers imagination. I labelled it 'spaces' as the middle line is an unsaid poignant pause or image.
Gael Turnbull(1928-2004,a Scottish doctor-poet created the imagist Spaces form in his collection Briefly (1967) a two line poem with a larger than usual space
Turnbull called poems using his device ‘Spaces’, and noted of these ‘The visual “space” is,a pause or hesitation, even a temporary dislocation of attention’ .