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One day the Queen of Ireland was sitting on her throne She had her very stylish professional business suit on She had her hair neatly coiffured On her lap she had a Chromebook computer which she was avidly looking at And strangely, she was crying, yea! she was sobbing to herself Her Top Aide seen her and immediately rushed over   "Your Majesty, what's the matter ?" he inquired But she couldn't answer him such was her distress "Is it the state of the world" he asked, "is it...is it the climate crisis or the... the Brexit (the UK leaving the EU European Union), what!!!" The Queen looked at him almost pleadingly and then finally she blubbed "No! It's.... it's Bardo, he's written another poem" "Bardo! " replied the Aide a little exasperated, "Not him again. You can't be getting upset your Majesty every time he writes a poem" The Queen went on dreamily "What a beautiful heart but what a tortured soul" She then looked at her Aide in a strict kind of way and said "It's no good, I've got to meet him, I've got to know him" Her Aide cautioned against it, he said "Your Majesty shouldn't lower herself to seeking out some obscure poet guy, sure poets are two a penny in this country" This angered the Queen, she stamped her foot and then said forcefully "I'm the Queen of this country and he is one of my subjects in My Kingdom I have a right, I have the authority" So, so she issued a proclamation/ decree In every parish in Ireland posters were put up seeking the identity and whereabouts of the poet Bardo. Suddenly a lot of Bardos started popping up all over the place Yea, lots of people were coming forward claiming to be Bardo It was said in one County a strange man wearing a mask and riding a horse, with a sword dangling by his side came forward He said "Are you looking for Zardo ?" 'No!' he was told "we're looking for Bardo" "Oh!" he said and went off disappointedly. The Queen knew these people they couldn't all be Bardo So she used set them a test "If you're Bardo", she'd say, "then recite to me a new Bardo poem, yes! A brand new poem" This invariably would throw them all off Suddenly they'd start getting nervous and unsure of themselves "So you... you want a new Bardo poem" Yes! would reply the Queen, you must have some newer poems or bits of poems So one of the Bardos would begin rather shakily "Mmmm... Aaah... then they'd start to recite "The Sweetness that was, it is no more It's... it's flown out the feckin' door " The Queen could tell straightaway "You're not Bardo " Another of the Bardos began "The sadness it never ceases, it's a ceaseless sadness/ It's not a gladness, it's.. it's more of a badness.... your Highness " Again the Queen passed a speedy judgement "Neither are you Bardo", The Queen began to despair a bit about the dishonesty of people She began to feel very gloomy and disheartened That was until... until one day out of the blue she received a strange letter which was unlike all the other letters It was from a lady who was a former nurse She said her and a friend of hers had been Carers for an elderly couple for many years And they had a son who they still kept in touch with, they'd go out for the occasional meal Often he'd drink too much and then he'd start talking and would tell them that as a hobby to take him away from the stress of his job He used write things mostly poems and he'd post them online somewhere He said he wrote under a pseudonym but he wouldn't tell them what it was She said that when the Queen issued her decree she went and read some of Bardo's poems And she thought she could recognise some of the stories her friend told in Bardo's poems.  She suspected he might be... yes! Bardo. The Queen was intrigued by this letter It gave her new heart...new hope But how... how could she proceed Finally she hatched a plan, she thought she'd just visit Bardo's house on the pretext That they'd received a report that Bardo lived around that area somewhere She'd just ask him straight out if he knew of him And see what his reaction was. So the next day she set off in her big chauffeur driven BMW car They pulled up to the driveway of a house The house locked a bit ramshackley, in poor condition It could have done with a new coat of paint The tarmac too was very worn And there were weeds growing in the flowerbeds Inside the porch sun room it looked a bit rough as well There were tools strewn around it like someone was working there She rang the front doorbell After a few moments a figure in a beanie hat answered the door The Queen introduced herself and then asked if he knew of a poet named Bardo living in the area, that they'd received a report The figure looked a bit stunned at first, then he smiled and bowed a short bow as if acknowledging who she was Then he said "Bardo.... it's not a very original name for a poet, is it, is he any good ? " "He's a wonderful writer I think", the Queen replied, "his poems they really speak to me, I'm a big fan, I'd love to meet him" The figure pondered a moment then shook his head in a kind of amateurish theatrical way and said "Mmmm No, I'm sorry I don't... I don't know this... this Bardo" Then he smiled and said "If I was a poet, an Irish poet writing under a pseudonym I'd call myself something like... like Spudy Potato" "Do you write?" asked the Queen Here the figure stumbled a bit in his answer He said"No!" and then stammered "Not...not really" The Queen got a funny feeling about him, his replies and demeanor didn't seem to ring true somehow So she changed tack, she said they'd been driving all day long and wondered might she possibly have a cup of tea as she was parched, she even said she'd pay for it, The figure declined her offer to pay, saying instead he'd be greatly honoured to have her as a guest Although he said he'd have to apologise for the state of his house "It's a real Man Cave" he said inviting her in, "not much feminine influence here unfortunately". "You live here all on your own", the Queen asked He nodded and said a bit wearily, "All on my lonesome" and then smiling added "I have no one to talk to now not since my cat passed away" (The Queen remembered Bardo's cat poems Tommy Tigers and The Defector) "You're a cat person", she said He smiled nodding his head "Cats are funny". "You don't get lonely living alone ?" "Oh! " he shrugged, "sure we're all alone in the end anyway" he said enigimatically (The Queen was reminded of a Bardo poem The Great Alone) He added again smiling "Didn't Oscar Wilde once say 'Living with yourself is the beginning of a lifelong romance' When he went off to make the tea the Queen watched after him, she could see an inner room where there was a computer set up like a workstation... As she waited she took a look around the porch sunroom, she could see some dust upon a table and on the window sills And she noticed there were holes in the carpet which seemed very old And also there were some spindly spiders up on the ceiling She was reminded of the Bardo poem "I'll do anything for you Baby but I won't clean my house". When he came back with two big mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits The figure apologized again for the state of the room He explained he liked to keep it looking a bit rough As he thought no thief or burglar would be interested in robbing such a poor looking house. She asked did he work from home He replied "Ever since the Covid yes! we've had to work from home" The Queen was reminded of the poem "Working from home". Suddenly the figure went to say something but seemed to have some difficulty getting the words out He stammered "Wh..wh...wh" then he stopped and apologised, he said he had a bit of a stammer sometimes The Queen remembered in the poem 'Working from Home' Bardo had a stammer He went on "What I wanted to say was why do you like this poet so much ?" She thought for a moment and then said almost dreamily "It's the things he writes about Loneliness, longing, being empty inside, about his youth and the hope he had when starting out... it's like he's trying to make sense of his life...and he's funny... quirky things like that" "But why would you be interested in those things, sure you're a Queen, you must have everything, your life must be so full" "Sometimes it gets so lonely", she replied sadly, "it's like you're living in a bubble, I often wonder what's it all about, I feel so lost and alone sometimes... and so empty inside" Suddenly the Queen sat up in her chair as if regaining herself   She said, she admitted "You know"I haven't been completely honest with you, calling on you today It was no accident We received a report that you wrote poetry and that you post it online in secret We thought that you might be him... that you might be Bardo The Queen noticed a marked reticence or reluctance in the Poet "Oh!", he said So to assuage the situation she asked "Would you recite to me one of your poems... I'd love to hear one... please" "Oh!", the Poet replied shyly, "you don't want to hear any of my ramblings" "Oh yes I would ", she replied enthusiastically, "would you not recite one... one for your Queen" She fluttered her eyelids, "Please! Pretty please " The Poet smiled at this and at her enthusiasm "Well I have one that I never showed to anyone, it's a bitter type of poem, a bitter Blues type of poem, it has some coarse language now It's about a poet who writes but never seems to get anywhere, he feels he's been left behind... forgotten It's called... I know you're not supposed to use clichés but this saying sparked/ inspired the poem, it's called "I couldn't even get arrested " "Read it to me please ", said the Queen expectantly, "I'd love to hear it" So the Poet rose to his feet and cleared his throat and began... "I couldn't even get arrested My soul it sings like a sad violin Busking on a street where few ever come From another street I hear loud applause and cheers They want the young not some old gun like me I couldn't even get arrested. They pass me by and they don't bat an eye Like I'm someone not worth knowing, my story not worth telling "You think you're something special", they seem to say "Man you're just wasting your time, you ain't got that Do Re Mi" - I tried, Lord I tried, ain't no one tried harder than me But I couldn't even get arrested. I feel like Vincent Van Gogh must have felt Pouring my heart out for all to see Naked I stood there But no one wanted me All that time I gave to rhyme and nothing to show for it Was I just ******* my life away I couldn't even get arrested. Browsing down the bookstore Seems these days everyone's got a book but me Young girls and boys writing books like their toys Just for fun so it seems But me, I couldn't even get arrested. Is it a Jinx or what Has someone put a spell on me Or is it you're just no feckin' good... I couldn't even get arrested. So I guess I'll just keep plugging away Putting it out there and hoping some day Knowing nothing will ever come of it I'm battered and broken and too old to care I couldn't even get arrested". The Poet stopped and looked over at the Queen a little uncertainly as if seeking her approval She looked speechless, spellbound even She rose to her feet and then exclaimed excitedly "Bardo!! It is you!" She went on "I think... I think I'm in love with you" "Yea", the Poet said a little dismissively, and gesturing to his room "come and live in relative poverty and obscurity with me" As she stood there looking at him she was reminded strangely of a story from out of the Bible The story of the sick lady who was trying to get to Jesus But was hampered by the crowd And she thinks "If only I could touch the hem of his garment I know I'd be healed" She thought as she looked at him "If only I could kiss him I know I'd be made whole" She edged closer to Bardo "You've got lovely dark blue eyes" He replied  looking down at her "Y'know you've got the loveliest, the cutest little nose there Queenie" The Queen was reminded of Bardo's poem 'Little Perky Nose' Her face moved closer to his, then suddenly she made a sudden lunge forward She placed her lips on his and kissed him (She even slipped in a bit of tongue there) Suddenly there was this blinding flash Outside, the Queen's big car had turned into this big bank of leaves Which then collapsed on the ground and blew away in the breeze Her chauffeur too, he'd turned into this big... this big Badger, he went scurrying off into the undergrowth The Queen herself too, why she'd been transformed Now instead of a Business suit, now she wore this lovely dress with lovely flower designs and  bright colours on it And her hair, now it fell naturally in lovely thick long tresses down her back Her face too, had been transformed, was radiant, she had these lovely rosy cheeks and brilliant shining eyes The Poet looking at her, strangely he could only speak to her in the Irish (as Gaelige... pronounced 'ass gale-le-ga') "Ta tu go h-alainn", he said (translated 'You are beautiful '... pronounced 'Thaw too gut hauling ') "Ta tu cailin deas" (translated "You're a Lovely Girl"... pronounced 'Thaw too Colleen jass"....) He took her hand in his, needless to say from that day forth they both lived  happily ever after.
0
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 8:47 AM UTC
The Queen of Ireland falls in love
One day the Queen of Ireland was sitting on her throne She had her very stylish professional business suit on She had her hair neatly coiffured On her lap she had a Chromebook computer which she was avidly looking at And strangely, she was crying, yea! she was sobbing to herself Her Top Aide seen her and immediately rushed over   "Your Majesty, what's the matter ?" he inquired But she couldn't answer him such was her distress "Is it the state of the world" he asked, "is it...is it the climate crisis or the... the Brexit (the UK leaving the EU European Union), what!!!" The Queen looked at him almost pleadingly and then finally she blubbed "No! It's.... it's Bardo, he's written another poem" "Bardo! " replied the Aide a little exasperated, "Not him again. You can't be getting upset your Majesty every time he writes a poem" The Queen went on dreamily "What a beautiful heart but what a tortured soul" She then looked at her Aide in a strict kind of way and said "It's no good, I've got to meet him, I've got to know him" Her Aide cautioned against it, he said "Your Majesty shouldn't lower herself to seeking out some obscure poet guy, sure poets are two a penny in this country" This angered the Queen, she stamped her foot and then said forcefully "I'm the Queen of this country and he is one of my subjects in My Kingdom I have a right, I have the authority" So, so she issued a proclamation/ decree In every parish in Ireland posters were put up seeking the identity and whereabouts of the poet Bardo. Suddenly a lot of Bardos started popping up all over the place Yea, lots of people were coming forward claiming to be Bardo It was said in one County a strange man wearing a mask and riding a horse, with a sword dangling by his side came forward He said "Are you looking for Zardo ?" 'No!' he was told "we're looking for Bardo" "Oh!" he said and went off disappointedly. The Queen knew these people they couldn't all be Bardo So she used set them a test "If you're Bardo", she'd say, "then recite to me a new Bardo poem, yes! A brand new poem" This invariably would throw them all off Suddenly they'd start getting nervous and unsure of themselves "So you... you want a new Bardo poem" Yes! would reply the Queen, you must have some newer poems or bits of poems So one of the Bardos would begin rather shakily "Mmmm... Aaah... then they'd start to recite "The Sweetness that was, it is no more It's... it's flown out the feckin' door " The Queen could tell straightaway "You're not Bardo " Another of the Bardos began "The sadness it never ceases, it's a ceaseless sadness/ It's not a gladness, it's.. it's more of a badness.... your Highness " Again the Queen passed a speedy judgement "Neither are you Bardo", The Queen began to despair a bit about the dishonesty of people She began to feel very gloomy and disheartened That was until... until one day out of the blue she received a strange letter which was unlike all the other letters It was from a lady who was a former nurse She said her and a friend of hers had been Carers for an elderly couple for many years And they had a son who they still kept in touch with, they'd go out for the occasional meal Often he'd drink too much and then he'd start talking and would tell them that as a hobby to take him away from the stress of his job He used write things mostly poems and he'd post them online somewhere He said he wrote under a pseudonym but he wouldn't tell them what it was She said that when the Queen issued her decree she went and read some of Bardo's poems And she thought she could recognise some of the stories her friend told in Bardo's poems.  She suspected he might be... yes! Bardo. The Queen was intrigued by this letter It gave her new heart...new hope But how... how could she proceed Finally she hatched a plan, she thought she'd just visit Bardo's house on the pretext That they'd received a report that Bardo lived around that area somewhere She'd just ask him straight out if he knew of him And see what his reaction was. So the next day she set off in her big chauffeur driven BMW car They pulled up to the driveway of a house The house locked a bit ramshackley, in poor condition It could have done with a new coat of paint The tarmac too was very worn And there were weeds growing in the flowerbeds Inside the porch sun room it looked a bit rough as well There were tools strewn around it like someone was working there She rang the front doorbell After a few moments a figure in a beanie hat answered the door The Queen introduced herself and then asked if he knew of a poet named Bardo living in the area, that they'd received a report The figure looked a bit stunned at first, then he smiled and bowed a short bow as if acknowledging who she was Then he said "Bardo.... it's not a very original name for a poet, is it, is he any good ? " "He's a wonderful writer I think", the Queen replied, "his poems they really speak to me, I'm a big fan, I'd love to meet him" The figure pondered a moment then shook his head in a kind of amateurish theatrical way and said "Mmmm No, I'm sorry I don't... I don't know this... this Bardo" Then he smiled and said "If I was a poet, an Irish poet writing under a pseudonym I'd call myself something like... like Spudy Potato" "Do you write?" asked the Queen Here the figure stumbled a bit in his answer He said"No!" and then stammered "Not...not really" The Queen got a funny feeling about him, his replies and demeanor didn't seem to ring true somehow So she changed tack, she said they'd been driving all day long and wondered might she possibly have a cup of tea as she was parched, she even said she'd pay for it, The figure declined her offer to pay, saying instead he'd be greatly honoured to have her as a guest Although he said he'd have to apologise for the state of his house "It's a real Man Cave" he said inviting her in, "not much feminine influence here unfortunately". "You live here all on your own", the Queen asked He nodded and said a bit wearily, "All on my lonesome" and then smiling added "I have no one to talk to now not since my cat passed away" (The Queen remembered Bardo's cat poems Tommy Tigers and The Defector) "You're a cat person", she said He smiled nodding his head "Cats are funny". "You don't get lonely living alone ?" "Oh! " he shrugged, "sure we're all alone in the end anyway" he said enigimatically (The Queen was reminded of a Bardo poem The Great Alone) He added again smiling "Didn't Oscar Wilde once say 'Living with yourself is the beginning of a lifelong romance' When he went off to make the tea the Queen watched after him, she could see an inner room where there was a computer set up like a workstation... As she waited she took a look around the porch sunroom, she could see some dust upon a table and on the window sills And she noticed there were holes in the carpet which seemed very old And also there were some spindly spiders up on the ceiling She was reminded of the Bardo poem "I'll do anything for you Baby but I won't clean my house". When he came back with two big mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits The figure apologized again for the state of the room He explained he liked to keep it looking a bit rough As he thought no thief or burglar would be interested in robbing such a poor looking house. She asked did he work from home He replied "Ever since the Covid yes! we've had to work from home" The Queen was reminded of the poem "Working from home". Suddenly the figure went to say something but seemed to have some difficulty getting the words out He stammered "Wh..wh...wh" then he stopped and apologised, he said he had a bit of a stammer sometimes The Queen remembered in the poem 'Working from Home' Bardo had a stammer He went on "What I wanted to say was why do you like this poet so much ?" She thought for a moment and then said almost dreamily "It's the things he writes about Loneliness, longing, being empty inside, about his youth and the hope he had when starting out... it's like he's trying to make sense of his life...and he's funny... quirky things like that" "But why would you be interested in those things, sure you're a Queen, you must have everything, your life must be so full" "Sometimes it gets so lonely", she replied sadly, "it's like you're living in a bubble, I often wonder what's it all about, I feel so lost and alone sometimes... and so empty inside" Suddenly the Queen sat up in her chair as if regaining herself   She said, she admitted "You know"I haven't been completely honest with you, calling on you today It was no accident We received a report that you wrote poetry and that you post it online in secret We thought that you might be him... that you might be Bardo The Queen noticed a marked reticence or reluctance in the Poet "Oh!", he said So to assuage the situation she asked "Would you recite to me one of your poems... I'd love to hear one... please" "Oh!", the Poet replied shyly, "you don't want to hear any of my ramblings" "Oh yes I would ", she replied enthusiastically, "would you not recite one... one for your Queen" She fluttered her eyelids, "Please! Pretty please " The Poet smiled at this and at her enthusiasm "Well I have one that I never showed to anyone, it's a bitter type of poem, a bitter Blues type of poem, it has some coarse language now It's about a poet who writes but never seems to get anywhere, he feels he's been left behind... forgotten It's called... I know you're not supposed to use clichés but this saying sparked/ inspired the poem, it's called "I couldn't even get arrested " "Read it to me please ", said the Queen expectantly, "I'd love to hear it" So the Poet rose to his feet and cleared his throat and began... "I couldn't even get arrested My soul it sings like a sad violin Busking on a street where few ever come From another street I hear loud applause and cheers They want the young not some old gun like me I couldn't even get arrested. They pass me by and they don't bat an eye Like I'm someone not worth knowing, my story not worth telling "You think you're something special", they seem to say "Man you're just wasting your time, you ain't got that Do Re Mi" - I tried, Lord I tried, ain't no one tried harder than me But I couldn't even get arrested. I feel like Vincent Van Gogh must have felt Pouring my heart out for all to see Naked I stood there But no one wanted me All that time I gave to rhyme and nothing to show for it Was I just ******* my life away I couldn't even get arrested. Browsing down the bookstore Seems these days everyone's got a book but me Young girls and boys writing books like their toys Just for fun so it seems But me, I couldn't even get arrested. Is it a Jinx or what Has someone put a spell on me Or is it you're just no feckin' good... I couldn't even get arrested. So I guess I'll just keep plugging away Putting it out there and hoping some day Knowing nothing will ever come of it I'm battered and broken and too old to care I couldn't even get arrested". The Poet stopped and looked over at the Queen a little uncertainly as if seeking her approval She looked speechless, spellbound even She rose to her feet and then exclaimed excitedly "Bardo!! It is you!" She went on "I think... I think I'm in love with you" "Yea", the Poet said a little dismissively, and gesturing to his room "come and live in relative poverty and obscurity with me" As she stood there looking at him she was reminded strangely of a story from out of the Bible The story of the sick lady who was trying to get to Jesus But was hampered by the crowd And she thinks "If only I could touch the hem of his garment I know I'd be healed" She thought as she looked at him "If only I could kiss him I know I'd be made whole" She edged closer to Bardo "You've got lovely dark blue eyes" He replied  looking down at her "Y'know you've got the loveliest, the cutest little nose there Queenie" The Queen was reminded of Bardo's poem 'Little Perky Nose' Her face moved closer to his, then suddenly she made a sudden lunge forward She placed her lips on his and kissed him (She even slipped in a bit of tongue there) Suddenly there was this blinding flash Outside, the Queen's big car had turned into this big bank of leaves Which then collapsed on the ground and blew away in the breeze Her chauffeur too, he'd turned into this big... this big Badger, he went scurrying off into the undergrowth The Queen herself too, why she'd been transformed Now instead of a Business suit, now she wore this lovely dress with lovely flower designs and  bright colours on it And her hair, now it fell naturally in lovely thick long tresses down her back Her face too, had been transformed, was radiant, she had these lovely rosy cheeks and brilliant shining eyes The Poet looking at her, strangely he could only speak to her in the Irish (as Gaelige... pronounced 'ass gale-le-ga') "Ta tu go h-alainn", he said (translated 'You are beautiful '... pronounced 'Thaw too gut hauling ') "Ta tu cailin deas" (translated "You're a Lovely Girl"... pronounced 'Thaw too Colleen jass"....) He took her hand in his, needless to say from that day forth they both lived  happily ever after.
There's a lot of Queens in Ireland these days LoL. I'm always trying to plug my Zardo poem, he sometimes pops up in other poems LoL. I knew the Irish (the Gaelige) would come in handy one day LoL. A bit of fun.
Written by
62/M/Ireland
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 8:47 AM UTC
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