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fiachra breac Jun 2019
bhí coinne agam anocht,
chuaigh muid go Lus na Gréine.
bhí sí go hiontach.

labhraimid le chéile,
faoi gach rud agus níos mó.
bhí sí go hiontach.

tá sásta orm.
A lament don Ghaeilge

A language
in my Blood
but not - on my tongue.

The prose and poetry of my ancestors
fallen - on deaf ears.

When did we accept this anglicized assonance,
to marr the seanchaithe tale of soil and air?

The Land of Saints and Scholars -
speaking words from others tongues.
A Catalan
liaison where
with his
jazz guitar
as Gioconda
in Hoboken
really left
for Athens
and green
pasture of
Ulster that
pokes a
fable with
lure of
capes in
New York
and Saint-Tropez
Abercrombie , John ;noted jazz guitarist
fiachra breac May 2019
laethanta sásta,
botharanna salach ‘s
éan orágamaí
happy days,
grubby roads and
an origami bird
Karijinbba Apr 2019
Into life I emerged my fathers queen of his forest lands with his death suffered my Purepecha Tarazcan Mestizo gene mold
and my massive character
developed seared with scars;
first grand loss my father my land
Foe pierced my Teen
Mestizo cactus pear
by deceptive method
his ugly bitter tequila mix
second loss badboy with
a twist virgins his compulssion
the wise universe quickly RANSOMED my pain!
in Texan country songs and mariachi night parrandas
wedding promises galore
in Irish cream PA-dreams
entwined disavowed
drowned all this magic.
along came refuge an evil poisoning uzo on his dunkey
slandering Grecian mythology teaching his many medeas
executing premeditated cruel early death wasn't what I had in mind for restitution
leaping from foe to another one worse  and still I loved life repaying evil for my good
malicious slandering experts
stealing envious jealousy torturing my baby girls new born making pieces of me giving birth!
all this and more remained impune being dead calm in shock
All I ever saught in life was to love be loved cherished adored by one special human regadless of name nationality creed or social status and guess what!?
I found all the BEST all treasures all bank amidts all this saga.

Yes I was too battered to seize opportunity too rejected to say
" I love you- I am sorry,
I'll marry you." my beast!

twice husbands didn't call me wife first time I married only the ring I bought with my savings, tears and scars no husbands were they but foe covert enemy ****** sadist poisoner Greek
chicken **** Hen. in CA fed on******* agendas sold my baby girl coco to his infertile ex hell nurse bailing him out******* dues possing as Mother to my child invented a birth certificate 1983 then tried to ****** me each time I went to E R. smothering me during minor urgery 2009 in honor a covert life insurance criminals with a twist
many times they tried many times they failed I have more lives then a cat.
The Greek human trafficant
blackmailed by his medeas
for his ongoing crimes sadomised my baby girls I give this Greek geek ten traits of narcicistic personality more in his grave "haralobo"his kiriakis and many mistress
I escaped him inhell greece
I emerged seared with scars.
a fierce protective Mother
now a grandmother stern
but ever understanding
ever loving
I am not ranting
nor lamenting!

I survived where many other battered women died
seared with scars
I write.
O how many women do!
O how many Moms don't
survive covert enemies
with a twist.
~~~~~~~
By: Karjinbba
All rights reserved.
Dedicating this to my daughters nick named "Lala, Sassy, Coco."and to all a battered wife mothers single Moms wearing purple hearts and to all good loving caring men reading who love and protect their wife and children because you are the forcce that keeps Earth from going mad and to wabble out of orbit.
like my planet "motherhood" has wabbled and toppled over.
My girls hide head like Ostrich cant believe who fathered them to torture us child and Mom. My girls have scales in their eyes call Greece home and Mexican Moms cruel beast enemy. ( a hate crime?!)
they refuse to see their own body bone morrow seared with scars like mine or who is victim and who is coward. Denial assassination of character rules their troubled ego.
Ray Dunn Mar 2019
in a field of four leaf clovers—
i’ll await your three leaves,
my dear

you’re my goodluck charm—
mixed amongst non-scented flowers,
my love
Just  thinking back to when I wore my grandmothers necklace, an Irish symbol with  marble from homeland of Ireland, and lost the pendant in a field of clovers by my school. Makes me very sad to remember, hopefully I’ll find it one day
Star BG Mar 2019
I am not IRISH,
but on Saint Patricks Day
I be one tall and strong.

One to appreciate Irish music,
and dance with
Celtic Thunder.

Where I wear Green
and wave flag honoring
the country grand.

One to have button
saying Kiss Me I'm Irish
and wait for one openly.

Where I turn TV onto
parade to cheer happily
inside day.

One to breath deep
and speak with
learned Irish accent delicately.

I am not IRISH
but full of celebration
for date of March 17th
dear to heart.

Perhaps in next life, I shall be.
Happy Saint Patricks day ALL
Girard Tournesol Dec 2018
Her platinum blonde hair was a firm
     spunky Irish when she was a kid
And compelled me to wish for time travel
     as I have loved her since she's existed

She says she'll table dance if she wins
All for a package of crackers I'd have
    never kicked her out of bed for eating
Says if I'm lucky she'll pick Mardi Gras beads

I told her that from her wedding picture
     Veronica Lake had nothing on her
She said straight into my transparent heart:
     "I've had a good life"

. . .and I was lucky
> As published in The Pennsylvania Poet's Society magazine, PENNESSENCE
> As published in Dark Horse Appalachia
> Listen to me recite Joanne @ Bingo on DarkHorse7 BandCamp.
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