Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Intoxication is in the air, and I wish to get spectacularly drunk
like so many of my kinsmen on this day of our nation, a celebration
that lacks class and brims with drama, in honor of Saint Patrick.

Paddy's day is certainly not Patty's, better we call it Lá Pádraig.
My wishful thinking was not in vain but 'twas vainglorious
in its promotion of commotion, debauchery, devotion

and revelry as we make overtures to man the gap
of danger. We shall only be ashamed by those
who cannot hold their composure, those
who don't know how to sesh responsibly; 'ara
sure you need to know how to let loose but without

letting go, you need not know what the future holds
to stave off despair. Simply hold fast. I hold on
to a rose-tinged glass shard of fluorodrone
and to a white parachute of pentylone.

In this day and age we
do not simply drink our troubles
away, stimulants push past the brink of

our limits. It is not a simple day of sessioning,
It is a day of reckoning.
I should buy some alcohol before the offie closes
but I miss smoking ****
because it is right to celebrate with something green.
Tell us what is relief on this day?
The day of my people, when
we drown out our past

with the ultimate
session; the almighty
Tommy Randell Feb 2018
(19th Feb 2018)

Fiddle & Drum we played
Beneath the barrel ceiling
In the side room at The Laurel Inn
At Robin Hood's Bay this evening

A passel of tunes and some craic
A bit of Trad Irish nonsense
Just two old mates having a laugh
Over a pint or two of toxins

No-one else in the room
They could hear us maybe next door
In the main room with the telly on
Waiting for some team to score

Some Jigs & Reels, a slow one or two
A few old songs or three
Yes, the craic tonight wasn't Hollywood
It was the usual documentary

The way we like it
The way we like it to be, so
The craic tonight
It is what it is, so
My pal Milo and I had our usual meet tonight - The 3rd Monday in the Month - in The Laurel, Robin Hood's Bay, WHITBY. Just to have a few hours playing a bit of nonsense and catching up on things. We talk about tunes & arrange them as Sets for later Gigs or bigger Sessions. It's what it is, so.
Shauny Jun 2017
My thought process is like a lost dime
As I sit here trying to rhyme
Bored and uninterested
All this time and more I have invested

Pretending gets old quick
I am developing a nervous tick
Looking at a screen and seeing white
Why ohh why am I doing this *****

Slowly figuring things out, my masterpiece
Making the right decisions my joy can only increase
Right…..?
Write when your a re frustrated!! It is very satisfying and pays off :)
Tommy Randell Feb 2017
Put Guinness on a mermaid’s tail
And it will turn to milk
Put that milk in a glass of tea
And drench away your ills

It will make all old men frisky
It will make all young men strong
And the mermaid’s tail will vanish
To give all men what they want

The seal will graze the meadow
The salmon swim the lanes
All Tax and Debts will vanish
We'll ride the gravy train

The taps will run with pennies
The pumps will pour with gold
There’ll be no lack of plenty
And the Craic will not go cold

But, should we drink this liquor
That has such a magic touch?
Could a glass so filled with wonder
Be filled with just too much?

Is Mermaid's Milk a fishy tale
Too marvellous to be true?
Have the Old Wives and the Fairies
Gone a step too far, or two?

Young men in their innocence
Old men in their prime
Should they fish the strands and beaches
Through the hours of Opening Time?

Well for the good of all the Craic
Pass the teapot down the Bar
If there's magic in the Mermaid's brew
I'll drink it by the jar

But let me never not drink porter
It's the Blood in Ireland's veins
For with Mermaid's Milk or The Guinness
My thirst is still the same.
A poem I wrote to be said at Irish Trad Music Sessions. It is my joy to play the Bodhran (drum) and recite a few tales and this one often gets me a cup of tea or two.

— The End —