When I came back to Dublin I was courtmartialed in my absence and sentenced to death in my absence, so I said they could shoot me in my absence.

quote by Brendan Behan
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The Good Friday Agreement and the basic rights and entitlements of citizens that are enshrined within it must be defended and actively promoted by London and Dublin.

quote by Gerry Adams
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As a kid growing up in the back streets of Dublin I used to pretend I was playing in the World Cup with my mates out on the streets, and now I will be doing it for real.

quote by Robbie Keane
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Dublin

The children play in the streets, they say
The children play in the streets
While the ships dock fast in Dublin Bay,
The children play in the streets.

Och aye, the blarney blunderbuss,
He's corked, and who's to blame?
'Tain't that his wee son with a pint,
Too soon to walk the same?

Across Ha'penny Bridge his Molly
Bends to scratch for coal,
And one last fire to celebrate:
Today she quits the dole.

But what of Barry? What of Shane?
Who'll give the tykes their bread,
With Pap in one dyke stone-cold drunk,
In the other Mam stone-cold dead?

[...] Read more

poem by Hm. Nes
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Dublin Sky

I've been down a lonely street tonight
And I don't know what's wrong with me
I don't know what's wrong with me
The clouds cover up the Dublin sky
I don't know what's left of me
I don't know what's right with me
And I've tried to keep my distance
And I've sung Amazing Grace
I've tarnished all our memories
But there'll always be a trace of you
Of you
I remember laughing on that river's edge
Trying to get you to jump with me
Trying to get you to fall for me
And your trembling heart it beat so fast
Holdings hands you promised me
Holding hands we counted to three
And I felt your slipping fingers
And I saw you change your mind
If I hadn't dragged you in with me

[...] Read more

song performed by Darren Hayes
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One Has To Wonder Why

John Clare was the English language greatest poet of Nature
So much of Nature's ways the man did know
But he died in a mental institution
In Northampton asylum near to fifteen decades ago

Just like Vincent Van Gogh the Dutchman a World renowned artist
His paintings are sold for millions today
Yet he died poor and mentally unstable
At his own hands in quite a tragic way

William Cowper was a literary genius
A man who too was mentally unwell
He never did enjoy the fame he earned
And life for him it was an Earthly hell

James Clarence Mangan is the National Bard of Ireland
He died in mid life at forty six years old
A poor Dubliner in Ireland's years of famine
His death was of consumption we are told

[...] Read more

poem by Francis Duggan
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Speranza's Son

His poems and plays are literary gems his quotes popular today
A genius and a great poet with words he had a way
Incarcerated in Reading Jail he lived at a time
When for a man to love another man was looked on as a crime.

His mother was a great poet Speranza was her name
In the Dublin literary circles of her time she was one who knew fame
She gave to the World Oscar Wilde the truly enlightened one
What woman would not feel proud to give birth to such a son.

His father the antiquarian and gifted writer became famed far and wide
And as an expert on human diseases his worth could not be denied
But nowadays he is better known as Oscar's father the wit and literary great
A legend for the ages and one to celebrate.

The Importance of Being Earnest, The Ballad of Reading Jail
and Lady Windermere's Fan
From the pen of Speranza's son the renowned literary man
And though he died as a pauper in Paris from Dublin far away
Through his humorous quotes and insightful writings his legend lives today.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Tommy Carty The Musician

Tommy Carty the musician a marvel of guitar
From his Homecity of Dublin he is living far
In South West Victoria in the City Of Warrnambool
One honoured as a Legend of the Koroit Lake School.

Not into self promotion of such he seems shy
But true talent of him one could never deny
His music says more of him than words can say
One of the best living guitarists of today.

In a Human World of self promotion and so much self conceit
One as humble as he is such a pleasure to meet
Yet when it comes to playing of guitar few with him to compare
The Tommy Cartys of this World to say the least rare.

Amongst the musicians of South West Victoria one famed and well known
One might say of him in a class of his own
So self effacing and down to earth in his own humble way
The masterful guitarist he just loves to play.

[...] Read more

poem by Francis Duggan
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An Old Song Re-sung

As I went down through Dublin city
At the hour of twelve of the night,
Who did I see but a Spanish lady
Washing her feet by candle light.
First she washed them,
Then she dried them,
All by a fire of amber coals,
In all my life I never did see
A maid so neat about the soles.

I asked her would she come a-walking,
And we went on where the small bats flew,
A coach I called then to instate her,
And on we went till the grey cocks crew.
Combs of amber
In her hair were,
And her eyes had every spell,
In all my life I never did see
A maid whom I could love so well.

[...] Read more

poem by Padraic Colum
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December 21 (Life Poem)

Mid-winter solstice, cold dawn,
The shortest day is the longest night.
Day grey skies, walking on rain empty beach.
Night bright carolling and mulled wine warming,
Friends’ festive mood balks bank depression,
The world turns and the days get longer,
On this 3rd rock from the sun
In snow-cold Dublin.

poem by Ian Beckett
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Traveller from afar

I met a traveller from an antique land,
and saw beneath that turbaned head
not a visitor but brother too,
though lineage was but black and white.

What was far away, and camels feet away,
and ships sails away, pirated too away.
Yet walking on my street his street,
and close to his ribs held a Dublin girl,
close to his ribs.
As if God's hand had returned the joints of Adam
and joined again in one.
She laughed and threw her happy head,
and smiled and kissed his darkened brow,
his blackened brow,
as mahogany is dark.
And it was love.

He held her close and matching hair
his skin was foreign shining joy,

[...] Read more

poem by Bernard Kennedy
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Swans and Chimney Stacks

Only in Dublin
would two swans
crossing the docks
greet you in March

Light reflecting
refracting the image
of urban life
and city living

hazy sun and
smokey stacks
a tall ship mast
and two wild swans

Welcome to my city
cosmopolitan
21st century
metropolis

[...] Read more

poem by Geraldine Moorkens Byrne
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Solace

I checked,
And no spelling mistakes
The signature of Arthur Guinnes
in red letters!
Without a valid visa
I gate crashed into St.James Dublin.
Really it's traditionally brewed.
I experienced the robust, mellow and satisfying flavor for myself.
As they say, O what a fine drink Guinnes Extra Stout
And I forgot this month's house rent!

nimal dunuhinga

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Um Pouco De Amor (Portugus)

(rasta rootsme again so come listen to one
me and this is my plain, no this is a message
from the alluland)
Hoje um dia daqueles
Em que olho para o cu
Na esperana de entender porque estou
De vez em quando longe e de vez em quando perto
umas vezes subir e outras cair vou
e quando voc chega no respondo por meus actos
sinto um tremor
te odiando e te querendo do princpio ao fim
buscando um pouco de amor
(rockit out and rockit in
from Dublin to Babylon)
Buscando um pouco de amor
(jumpit out and jumpit in
from Kingston to Providence Land)
Buscando um pouco de amor
Tem horas nessa vida em que no h mais sada
E se v que a cortina fechou

[...] Read more

song performed by Shakira
Added by Lucian Velea
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OK, Let Ursus Major Speak!

Every time I read something
by a guy named Hemingway
I marvel at his taciturnity!

He says it all in little space
while others go on and on
like that Irish guy from Dublin!

As a second generation grizzly,
I favor William Faulkner who wrote
about Mississippi folkways!

Of course the guy who takes the cake
was a man who knew the trails
and byways of real wilderness - Jack London!

poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Star Of The County Down

In banbridge town in the county down
One morning last july,
From a boreen green came a sweet colleen
And she smiled as she passed me by.
She looked so sweet fronn her two bare feet
To the sheen of her nut brown hair.
Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself
For to see I was really there.
Chorus:
From bantry bay up to derry quay and
From galway to dublin town,
No maid Ive seen like the brown colleen
That I met in the county down.
As she onward sped, sure I scratched my head,
And I looked with a feelin rare,
And I says, says i, to a passer-by,
Whose the maid with the nut brown hair?
He smiled at me and he sayss, says he,
Thats the gem of irelands crown.
Its rosie mccann from the banks of the bann,

[...] Read more

song performed by Van Morrison
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In Memory Of John Butler Yeats

'TO-NIGHT,' you said, 'to-night, all Ireland round
The curlews call.' The dinner-talk went on,
And I knew what you heard and what you saw,
That left you for a little while withdrawn-
The lonely land, the lonely-crying birds!

Your words, your breath is gone!
O uncaught spirit, we'll remember you
By those remote and ever-flying birds
Adown the Shannon's reach, or crying through
The mist between Clew Bay and Dublin Bay!

poem by Padraic Colum
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Scary Monster

Scary monster are walking down the streets of Dubling and searching the Pipes for mouse
But for now there are no mouse to be found
And the scary monster try also to get in into people's garage in Dublin And there the scary monters finds a few mouse to eat
But now the hunting started and the scary monster haunted every mouse that was in the people's garage in Dubling
Also the scary monster was satisfied with his dinner

poem by Aldo Kraas
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A Journey And Back Again

Introduction:
I live a life full of incidents
especially whenever I go away.
As the years tumble by
and as I look at them,
they seem quite amusing now
than on the day they happened.
The following records a journey
my wife and I took many years ago
to The Viking Hotel then owned
by Irish singer Daniel O’Donnell.
My wife is a great fan of his
and I have to confess
I have met him a few times myself.

Day One:
We arrived at the coach station early
with overnight bags packed, waited,
and waited until finally
our coach turned up a half an hour late.

[...] Read more

poem by David Harris
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Dublin & Chicago

a pseudonym is necessary
to establish an identity
based on origins

personality is irrelevant
in the scheme of things
that intrigue poets

perhaps a dramatic dialogue
is in order to elucidate
how things are

like browning and his duchess
call it plagiarism if you like
but that's how it is

in dublin and in chicago, too
wallace stevens and his poem
the emperor of ice cream

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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