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"bridget" poems
1275 The Spider as an Artist Has never been employed— Though his surpassing Merit Is freely certified By every Broom and Bridget Throughout a Christian Land— Neglected Son of Genius I take thee by the Hand—
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12.8k
The Spider as an Artist
Of all the ****** that i like, The best would be of lace and white, But then again, there's so so much, There's even knickers with no crotch!?, Those little bras for beginner ***** Or leather gear, for naughty moods, And not forgetting Bridget Jones, Come on girls, we've all got those ones. Those yummy corsets **** us in, We'll shake our hips and bear a grin, To tantalise and tease men so, Our ***** with tassels on, so guys can, ahem, grow. Those fishnet stockings cost a bomb, But ladies, that's why we put them on, We feel so **** and so do they, So that's why we get them to pay. Silk and satin, black or red, Or going commando instead, What then girls, do we love these things for, Because they'll only be scattered on our bedroom floor?...
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Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 6:51 AM UTC
UNDERWEAR
It's Sister Lucy not Sister Bridget who's the crush on the young priest Father Joseph Magdalene said, Mary said is she the one? as she sat on Mags bed listening to music on her record player I thought you said the Bridget, Magdalene sitting beside Mary passed a glass of lemonade to her and said nothing certain you understand just the rumours I've heard but don't tell the parents or my arse'll be slapped for spreading the rumour, have you a ciggie? Mary said putting the lemonade and glass on the bedside cabinet, Magdalene poked under the mattress and took out a squashed pack of 10 Woodbines and said open the fecking window or Ma'll know we've been smoking and she'll have a moan and passed the packet to Mary who took a cigarette and put it in her mouth and went and opened the window, Magdalene took a cigarette and stuffed the packed under the mattress again, Mary sat down and said have you a light then or are we to fecking **** on air? Magdalene took out of the pocket of her dress a box of matches (liberated from the kitchen) and struck a light for them both and put the matchbox away again, they inhaled and sat in silence, the record played( Billy fury) and they tapped their feet softly and nodded their heads, so what are you doing about Brian Brady? Magdalene asked, what'd you mean doing about I'm doing nowt with the ****** it's him who thinks I'm going to be doing things the soft loon Mary said, you seemed to be encouraging him the other day Magdalene said, ah was fun only I'd not let him near me in a serious way no more than the holy Joe himself Mary said, smoke filtered ceiling ward, a car backfired from the street below, Magdalene leaned in close to Mary I'm your best friend and I get jealous of the likes of him being too near to you, O he's nothing to be worrying yourself about him Mags he's just a loon as boys are Mary said, Magdalene held the cigarette a way from her lips and kissed Mary's cheek, Mary sighed and said he's nothing I just give him the tease he'll get nothing from my ****** money box, they both inhaled and exhaled again and watched the smoke rise ceiling ward, the sound of Magdalene's ma downstairs singing along to the radio, Magdalene's hand went on Mary's thigh, a bright sun in a blue Irish sky.
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Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC
A BLUE IRISH SKY 1963.
It's Sister Lucy not Sister Bridget who's the crush on the young priest Father Joseph Magdalene said, Mary said is she the one? as she sat on Mags bed listening to music on her record player I thought you said the Bridget, Magdalene sitting beside Mary passed a glass of lemonade to her and said nothing certain you understand just the rumours I've heard but don't tell the parents or my arse'll be slapped for spreading the rumour, have you a ciggie? Mary said putting the lemonade and glass on the bedside cabinet, Magdalene poked under the mattress and took out a squashed pack of 10 Woodbines and said open the fecking window or Ma'll know we've been smoking and she'll have a moan and passed the packet to Mary who took a cigarette and put it in her mouth and went and opened the window, Magdalene took a cigarette and stuffed the packed under the mattress again, Mary sat down and said have you a light then or are we to fecking **** on air? Magdalene took out of the pocket of her dress a box of matches (liberated from the kitchen) and struck a light for them both and put the matchbox away again, they inhaled and sat in silence, the record played( Billy fury) and they tapped their feet softly and nodded their heads, so what are you doing about Brian Brady? Magdalene asked, what'd you mean doing about I'm doing nowt with the ****** it's him who thinks I'm going to be doing things the soft loon Mary said, you seemed to be encouraging him the other day Magdalene said, ah was fun only I'd not let him near me in a serious way no more than the holy Joe himself Mary said, smoke filtered ceiling ward, a car backfired from the street below, Magdalene leaned in close to Mary I'm your best friend and I get jealous of the likes of him being too near to you, O he's nothing to be worrying yourself about him Mags he's just a loon as boys are Mary said, Magdalene held the cigarette a way from her lips and kissed Mary's cheek, Mary sighed and said he's nothing I just give him the tease he'll get nothing from my ****** money box, they both inhaled and exhaled again and watched the smoke rise ceiling ward, the sound of Magdalene's ma downstairs singing along to the radio, Magdalene's hand went on Mary's thigh, a bright sun in a blue Irish sky.
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81
She let my hand lay in hers as she tapped it firm and rhythmal. I knew I needed this moment with her, but could not look her in the eyes. She started. You think you don't deserve true love. I smiled. I'm such a walk-around cliché. *You put on this act of *** godess because you feel that's the only way to get male attention.* Now I just sound like a ***** I'm not that weak. You think every man will leave. Boo-hoo, ******* bridget jones's diary Because he left you. That hit me. Suddenly I was crying. Not just tears, it was crying at its fiercest form. I was howling, every gram of pain dripped out of me. She held me. I felt clean. I repeated after her. Even though I'm afraid of being left alone again She kept tapping. I accept myself I looked at her and I love myself
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Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 10:19 PM UTC
The godmother
Brigid was born on a flax mill farm, Near the Cavan border, in Monaghan, At Lough Egish on the Carrick Road, The last child of the Sheridans. The sluice still runs near the water wheel, With thistles thriving on rusted steel. Little's known of Nellie's early years; Da died before she knew grieving tears, They'd turn her eyes in later years. She's eleven posing with her class, This photo shows an Irish lass. Her look is distant, Her face is blurred, But recognizable In an instant. She was schooled six years To last a life, Some math, the Irish, To read and write. Her Mammy grew ill, She lost a leg, And bit by bit, By age sixteen, Nellie buried her first dead. Too young to be alone, Sisters and brother had left the home. The cloistered convent took her in, She taught urchins and orphans About God and Grace and sin. There were no vows for Nellie then. At nineteen she met a Creamery man, Jim Lynch of the Cavan clan; He delivered dairy from his lorry, Married Nellie, Relieved their worry. War flared, men were few, There was work in Coventry. Ireland's thistles were left to bloom. Nellie soon was Michael's Mammy, Then Maura, Sheila and Kevin followed, When war floundered to its end, They shipped back to Monaghan, And brought the mill to life again. The thistles and weeds That surrounded the mill, Were scythed and scattered By Daddy's zeal. He built himself A generator, Providing power To lights and wheel. Sean was born, Gerald soon followed; Then Michael died. A nine year old, His Daddy's angel. Is this what turns A father strange? Francie arrived, Then Eucheria, But ten months later Bold death took her. Grief knows no borders For brothers and sisters. We left for Canada. Mammy brought six kids along, Leaving her dead behind, Buried with Ireland. Daddy was waiting for family, Six months before Mammy got free From death's inhumanity. Her tears and griefs weren't yet over, She birthed another son and daughter; Jimmy and Marlene left us too, Death is sure, Death is cruel. Grandchildren came, she was Granny, Bridget, Nellie, but still our Mammy. She lived this life eduring pain That mothers bear, Mothers sustain. And yet, in times of personal strain, I'll sometimes whisper her one name, Mammy.
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Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
Her Many Names
Brigid was born on a flax mill farm, Near the Cavan border, in Monaghan, At Lough Egish on the Carrick Road, The last child of the Sheridans. The sluice still runs near the water wheel, With thistles thriving on rusted steel. Little's known of Nellie's early years; Da died before she knew grieving tears, They'd turn her eyes in later years. She's eleven posing with her class, This photo shows an Irish lass. Her look is distant, Her face is blurred, But recognizable In an instant. She was schooled six years To last a life, Some math, the Irish, To read and write. Her Mammy grew ill, She lost a leg, And bit by bit, By age sixteen, Nellie buried her first dead. Too young to be alone, Sisters and brother had left the home. The cloistered convent took her in, She taught urchins and orphans About God and Grace and sin. There were no vows for Nellie then. At nineteen she met a Creamery man, Jim Lynch of the Cavan clan; He delivered dairy from his lorry, Married Nellie, Relieved their worry. War flared, men were few, There was work in Coventry. Ireland's thistles were left to bloom. Nellie soon was Michael's Mammy, Then Maura, Sheila and Kevin followed, When war floundered to its end, They shipped back to Monaghan, And brought the mill to life again. The thistles and weeds That surrounded the mill, Were scythed and scattered By Daddy's zeal. He built himself A generator, Providing power To lights and wheel. Sean was born, Gerald soon followed; Then Michael died. A nine year old, His Daddy's angel. Is this what turns A father strange? Francie arrived, Then Eucheria, But ten months later Bold death took her. Grief knows no borders For brothers and sisters. We left for Canada. Mammy brought six kids along, Leaving her dead behind, Buried with Ireland. Daddy was waiting for family, Six months before Mammy got free From death's inhumanity. Her tears and griefs weren't yet over, She birthed another son and daughter; Jimmy and Marlene left us too, Death is sure, Death is cruel. Grandchildren came, she was Granny, Bridget, Nellie, but still our Mammy. She lived this life eduring pain That mothers bear, Mothers sustain. And yet, in times of personal strain, I'll sometimes whisper her one name, Mammy.
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84
It’s amazing how one hospital trip can change the rest of your life. Or even lack of one even. He was four. I, three.  It was late, I had no idea why I was going to Bridget and John’s house. More importantly, I didn’t know why Zack wasn’t coming with me. 11 pm, I guess that’s pretty late for a three year old. I don’t think at that point I really had any grasp on what was actually happening. That nothing would ever be the same again. Half asleep, trudging to that sliding glass door I’d seen hundreds of times. I went into the house, the aroma of sweet cinnamon and love hung in the air. Burnt toast and peanut butter. That pretty much sums up an entire year of my life. Three years old, and for almost every weekend, which was too many, spent with Bridget and John, sleepless nights and peanut butter toast. There was: late night toast, midnight toast, way too early morning toast, morning toast, breakfast toast, too much toast. I think I was a picky three year old, then again, that isn’t exactly unheard of. I wasn’t very fond of peanut butter or toast, but I still ate it. I yearned for a sweet taste of normality. I craved something routine. Funny, because my life was everything but normal during that year. Funny, because I will never eat peanut butter toast ever, again. Many nights spent waiting for an answer. Wishing to go back, and hoping for everything to be okay. But as the car rolled out of the gravel driveway on that first night, so did an unmedicated future for my brother.
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May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC
Burnt Toast & Peanut Butter
It’s amazing how one hospital trip can change the rest of your life. Or even lack of one even. He was four. I, three.  It was late, I had no idea why I was going to Bridget and John’s house. More importantly, I didn’t know why Zack wasn’t coming with me. 11 pm, I guess that’s pretty late for a three year old. I don’t think at that point I really had any grasp on what was actually happening. That nothing would ever be the same again. Half asleep, trudging to that sliding glass door I’d seen hundreds of times. I went into the house, the aroma of sweet cinnamon and love hung in the air. Burnt toast and peanut butter. That pretty much sums up an entire year of my life. Three years old, and for almost every weekend, which was too many, spent with Bridget and John, sleepless nights and peanut butter toast. There was: late night toast, midnight toast, way too early morning toast, morning toast, breakfast toast, too much toast. I think I was a picky three year old, then again, that isn’t exactly unheard of. I wasn’t very fond of peanut butter or toast, but I still ate it. I yearned for a sweet taste of normality. I craved something routine. Funny, because my life was everything but normal during that year. Funny, because I will never eat peanut butter toast ever, again. Many nights spent waiting for an answer. Wishing to go back, and hoping for everything to be okay. But as the car rolled out of the gravel driveway on that first night, so did an unmedicated future for my brother.
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I had a dream of a dead friend once. Words cannot describe how it made me feel. He's been dead since May 2017, but I feel him alive everywhere around me. I see him, In Garrett's curly hair. I see him, In the fiery red locks that Bridget has. I see him, In the blue eyes of my best friend. I see him in the freckles on Julayne's face. A long time ago, I would have said that I hated him. Maybe a part of me still does. But a part of me also wishes that I could have said my peace before the inevitable death came to be.
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Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 5:12 PM UTC
"Grab My Hand"
Bridget the ****** the dwarf who loves ******* Bridget the ****** she comes when she's ******* She'll open her short legs for a tenner or so, and if you pay less she'll still have a go. She loves a good ******* both active and passive; Believe me, her botty -hole is quite massive. Bridget's a goer, always ready for more; She's a fat ugly ****** and a little fat *****
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
Bridget the ******
Bridget was born on a flax mill farm, Near the Cavan border, in Monaghan, At Lough Egish on the Carrick Road, The last child of the Sheridans. The sluice still runs near the water wheel, With thistles thriving on rusted steel. What's known of Nellie's early years? Da died before her grieving tears, But burn her eyes in later years. She's eleven posing with her class, This photo shows an Irish lass. Her visage blurred, Her eyes look distant, Yet recognizable In an instant. She attended school for six short years, The three R's, some Irish, And a Doctorate in tears. Her Mammy grew ill, She lost a leg, And bit by bit, By age sixteen, Nellie buried her first dead. Too young to be alone, Sisters and brother had left the home. The cloistered convent took her in, She taught urchins and orphans About God, Grace and sin. There were no vows for Nellie then. At nineteen she met a Creamery man, Jim Lynch of the Cavan clan; He delivered dairy from his lorry, Married Nellie To relieve their worry. War flared up, and men were few, So the work in Coventry Left Ireland's thistles to bloom. Nellie soon was Michael's Mammy, Then Maura, Sheila and Kevin were carried. When war floundered to its end, They shipped back to Monaghan, To work the flax mill again. The thistles and weeds That surrounded the mill, Were scythed and scattered By Daddy's zeal. He built himself a generator. And powered the lights and the wheel. Sean was born, Gerald soon followed; Then Michael died. A nine year old, His Father's angel. (Is this what turns A father strange?) Francie arrived, Then Eucheria, But ten months later Bold death took her. Grief knows no family borders For brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. We left for Canada. Mammy brought six kids along, Leaving her dead behind, Buried with Ireland in familiar songs. Daddy was waiting for family, Six months before Mammy got free From death's inhumanity. Her tears and griefs weren't yet over, She birthed another son and daughter; Jimmy and Marlene left us too, Death is sure, Death is cruel. Grandchildren came, she was Granny, Bridget, Nellie, but still our Mammy. She lived this life eduring pain That mothers bear, Mothers sustain. And yet, in times of personal strain, I'll sometimes whisper her one name, Mammy.
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
Her Many Names
Bridget was born on a flax mill farm, Near the Cavan border, in Monaghan, At Lough Egish on the Carrick Road, The last child of the Sheridans. The sluice still runs near the water wheel, With thistles thriving on rusted steel. What's known of Nellie's early years? Da died before her grieving tears, But burn her eyes in later years. She's eleven posing with her class, This photo shows an Irish lass. Her visage blurred, Her eyes look distant, Yet recognizable In an instant. She attended school for six short years, The three R's, some Irish, And a Doctorate in tears. Her Mammy grew ill, She lost a leg, And bit by bit, By age sixteen, Nellie buried her first dead. Too young to be alone, Sisters and brother had left the home. The cloistered convent took her in, She taught urchins and orphans About God, Grace and sin. There were no vows for Nellie then. At nineteen she met a Creamery man, Jim Lynch of the Cavan clan; He delivered dairy from his lorry, Married Nellie To relieve their worry. War flared up, and men were few, So the work in Coventry Left Ireland's thistles to bloom. Nellie soon was Michael's Mammy, Then Maura, Sheila and Kevin were carried. When war floundered to its end, They shipped back to Monaghan, To work the flax mill again. The thistles and weeds That surrounded the mill, Were scythed and scattered By Daddy's zeal. He built himself a generator. And powered the lights and the wheel. Sean was born, Gerald soon followed; Then Michael died. A nine year old, His Father's angel. (Is this what turns A father strange?) Francie arrived, Then Eucheria, But ten months later Bold death took her. Grief knows no family borders For brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. We left for Canada. Mammy brought six kids along, Leaving her dead behind, Buried with Ireland in familiar songs. Daddy was waiting for family, Six months before Mammy got free From death's inhumanity. Her tears and griefs weren't yet over, She birthed another son and daughter; Jimmy and Marlene left us too, Death is sure, Death is cruel. Grandchildren came, she was Granny, Bridget, Nellie, but still our Mammy. She lived this life eduring pain That mothers bear, Mothers sustain. And yet, in times of personal strain, I'll sometimes whisper her one name, Mammy.
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81
It was the boys’ bath night and you had bathed and were drying yourself with the white towel they had given you when the bathroom door flew open and Anne stood there one-legged in her pink flowered nightdress perching on her crutches like a hawk her eyes bright and dark a smile lingering on her lips well ****** me she said what a sight for a girl’s lovesick eyes and she entered the bathroom and pushed the door shut behind her with her bottom almost uncrutching herself in the process you pulled the towel tight around you and stared at her it’s the boys’ bath night you muttered girls aren’t allowed in while boys bath she moved over to the mirror and gazed at herself you’re right she said I’m not a boy I’m a tight titted girl and she laughed and crutched herself over towards you making you flatten yourself against the wall gripping the towel with one hand and holding her back with the other and she leaned down and kiss the back of your hand then looked you deep in the eyes what have you got hidden behind that towelling skirt then?   she said and you gripped the towel tighter with both hands and she menacingly moved one hand cautiously towards the towel her armpits gripping the crutches tightly as she moved you shouldn’t be in here you said I’m not in there yet she laughed and grabbed the towel away with a force that took her and the towel toppling to the bathroom floor where she lay like an overturned beetle you stood naked your hands covering what your father called your toolbox gazing down at her struggling to get up well don’t just stand there like a prize parrot help pick me up she said and so with one hand covering you knelt down to help lift her up but then she pulled you down beside her and laughed and her laughter echoed around the walls but then she paused and put a hand over her mouth hearing Sister Bridget’s nearby footsteps and noisy calls.
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Mar 15, 2012
Mar 15, 2012 at 3:16 AM UTC
ANNE AND THE BOYS' BATH NIGHT.
It was the boys’ bath night and you had bathed and were drying yourself with the white towel they had given you when the bathroom door flew open and Anne stood there one-legged in her pink flowered nightdress perching on her crutches like a hawk her eyes bright and dark a smile lingering on her lips well ****** me she said what a sight for a girl’s lovesick eyes and she entered the bathroom and pushed the door shut behind her with her bottom almost uncrutching herself in the process you pulled the towel tight around you and stared at her it’s the boys’ bath night you muttered girls aren’t allowed in while boys bath she moved over to the mirror and gazed at herself you’re right she said I’m not a boy I’m a tight titted girl and she laughed and crutched herself over towards you making you flatten yourself against the wall gripping the towel with one hand and holding her back with the other and she leaned down and kiss the back of your hand then looked you deep in the eyes what have you got hidden behind that towelling skirt then?   she said and you gripped the towel tighter with both hands and she menacingly moved one hand cautiously towards the towel her armpits gripping the crutches tightly as she moved you shouldn’t be in here you said I’m not in there yet she laughed and grabbed the towel away with a force that took her and the towel toppling to the bathroom floor where she lay like an overturned beetle you stood naked your hands covering what your father called your toolbox gazing down at her struggling to get up well don’t just stand there like a prize parrot help pick me up she said and so with one hand covering you knelt down to help lift her up but then she pulled you down beside her and laughed and her laughter echoed around the walls but then she paused and put a hand over her mouth hearing Sister Bridget’s nearby footsteps and noisy calls.
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Sit down, the nun says, bringing Magdalene into her office, pointing to a chair opposite her desk. The nun eyes her seriously, her face framed in a black and white headpiece, her hands on the table in front of her palms down. Magdalene sits and stares at her shoes. Do you know why you are here? the nun says. You asked me to come in here, Magdalene replies, lifting her eyes to the nun's face. The reason why I asked you to come here? the nun says firmly. Magdalene shakes her head, fidgets in the chair. The nun sits back in her chair and stares coldly. Silence fills the room and Magdalene moves back in her chair, crossing her legs at the ankles. There have been reports of you and Mary Moran being seen entering a toilet cubicle together, is that true? the nun says, head to one side as if her neck had snapped. Magdalene shakes her head, no, who'd say such a thing? What wormy **** would say that? Magdalene says. The nun eyes her colder. Sister Bridget saw you, the nun says. With or without her glasses, Magdalene says, she's a bit short-sighted, she often mistakes me for the Murphy boy. The nun stares and shakes her head and says, you should show respect to the nuns, and not try to score points off of other's disabilities. Magdalene looks at the nun's hands on the desktop, tapping away on the old wood. I was not with Mary Moran; I was on my own, and why would Sister Bridget be spying on me going to the bog? Magdalene says. The nun slams her hand down on the desktop, and says, DO NOT BE SO RUDE AND TELL THE TRUTH. Magdalene stares at the slammed down hand; once it had slapped her thighs as a young girl in R.E, for not raising her hand to leave the room for a *** now she just stares at the nun and says, that's the truth after all said and done, cross my heart and hope to die. The nun rambles on, but Magdalene no longer listens, recalls the kiss on Mary's lips, and the spark in the nun's eyes that glistens.
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Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 2:50 AM UTC
ENCOUNTER WITH A NUN 1963.
Sit down, the nun says, bringing Magdalene into her office, pointing to a chair opposite her desk. The nun eyes her seriously, her face framed in a black and white headpiece, her hands on the table in front of her palms down. Magdalene sits and stares at her shoes. Do you know why you are here? the nun says. You asked me to come in here, Magdalene replies, lifting her eyes to the nun's face. The reason why I asked you to come here? the nun says firmly. Magdalene shakes her head, fidgets in the chair. The nun sits back in her chair and stares coldly. Silence fills the room and Magdalene moves back in her chair, crossing her legs at the ankles. There have been reports of you and Mary Moran being seen entering a toilet cubicle together, is that true? the nun says, head to one side as if her neck had snapped. Magdalene shakes her head, no, who'd say such a thing? What wormy **** would say that? Magdalene says. The nun eyes her colder. Sister Bridget saw you, the nun says. With or without her glasses, Magdalene says, she's a bit short-sighted, she often mistakes me for the Murphy boy. The nun stares and shakes her head and says, you should show respect to the nuns, and not try to score points off of other's disabilities. Magdalene looks at the nun's hands on the desktop, tapping away on the old wood. I was not with Mary Moran; I was on my own, and why would Sister Bridget be spying on me going to the bog? Magdalene says. The nun slams her hand down on the desktop, and says, DO NOT BE SO RUDE AND TELL THE TRUTH. Magdalene stares at the slammed down hand; once it had slapped her thighs as a young girl in R.E, for not raising her hand to leave the room for a *** now she just stares at the nun and says, that's the truth after all said and done, cross my heart and hope to die. The nun rambles on, but Magdalene no longer listens, recalls the kiss on Mary's lips, and the spark in the nun's eyes that glistens.
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O'DRISCOLL drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart Lake. And he saw how the reeds grew dark At the coming of night-tide, And dreamed of the long dim hair Of Bridget his bride. He heard while he sang and dreamed A piper piping away, And never was piping so sad, And never was piping so gay. And he saw young men and young girls Who danced on a level place, And Bridget his bride among them, With a sad and a gay face. The dancers crowded about him And many a sweet thing said, And a young man brought him red wine And a young girl white bread. But Bridget drew him by the sleeve Away from the merry bands, To old men playing at cards With a twinkling of ancient hands. The bread and the wine had a doom, For these were the host of the air; He sat and played in a dream Of her long dim hair. He played with the merry old men And thought not of evil chance, Until one bore Bridget his bride Away from the merry dance. He bore her away in his atms, The handsomest young man there, And his neck and his breast and his arms Were drowned in her long dim hair. O'Driscoll scattered the cards And out of his dream awoke: Old men and young men and young girls Were gone like a drifting smoke; But he heard high up in the air A piper piping away, And never was piping so sad, And never was piping so gay.
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1.6k
The Host Of The Air
we are not safe all the markets could come crashing down it could happen any day now a blue origin rocket ship never making it to its final destination no man knows the hour or the day no man knoweth that bridget jones had her cigarettes with wine and mr darcy but i only have **** and a plastic one liter bottle of coke zero and no mr darcy to know the hour or the day helen fielding, enabler of the delusional, recycled happy endings but the plastic coke bottle isn't a jane austen novel and the chinese don't want our garbage anymore there is enough garbage in china already "there are 8.3 billion tons of plastic in the world" 8.8 million metric tons are chinese trash for the yangtze river to carry to the sea sometimes i feel just like garbage previously shipped to china trash and blue origin debris comeuppance for the yangtze river to carry to the sea endless oceans end same place plastic rocketship garbage begins
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Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 5:47 AM UTC
garbage in the ocean; endless garbage in the ocean
We're just like Carrie and Mr. Big You want to be free We're just like Harry and Sally We like each other at the wrong times We're just like Lloyd and Diane I'll never stop trying We're just like Allie and Noah From different walks of life We're just like Scarlett and Rhett Independent and Fickle We're just like Ilsa and Rick Nothing can separate us forever We're just like Bridget and Mark Childhood friends turned accidental lovers We're just like Hubbell and Katie I'm just too unique to settle down with We're just like you and me Undefined , real, struggling
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
Ambiguously Undefined
There was commotion coming from the dining room; loud voices, shouting, banging of cutlery. Sister Bridget paused her recital of the rosary; listened and frowned. Grabbing the hand bell she left her room and walked to the dining room. The two sisters were trying to restore order and silence. Sister Bridget rang the hand bell loudly and the disturbance stopped. What is going on here? She asked. Anne has been most rude to the cook, Sister Bridget, one of the nuns said. Eyes turned to Anne who sat on a chair against the wall, Benny sat next to her eating his rice pudding. The cook, Mrs Rooke, stood red-faced behind the serving hatch. Well, Anne? Sister Bridget said, standing in front of Anne. Yes, thank you, Anne replied. What was said? One of the nuns whispered in to her ear. Anne follow me to my room, Sister Bridget said. I want the Kid with me, Anne said. Just you, the nun said, NOW. The room went silent; eyes turned from the nun to Anne. Anne raised her eyebrows: temper, temper, Sister. The nun released a deep sigh: please Anne, I need to talk with you in private. Anne grabbed her crutches and pulling herself up, and followed the nun from the dining room, poking out her tongue at the cook. Benny watched Anne go, her one leg swinging to and fro.
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Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 3:52 PM UTC
Commotion in a Nursing Home 1959
Skinny Kid sat by the white metal table on the lawn Anne sat opposite him her crutches by her chair I heard you puked last night? Anne said I did Skinny kid said all over the blankets and pillowcase nice said Anne it was the liver they made me eat he said I told them it made me ill but they said it was good for me and said I had to eat it serves them right she said Sister Bridget moaned at me he said O her she's got a face on her like a sufferer of haemorrhoids what's haemorrhoids? he asked painful bulging blood vessels hanging from the **** she said he tried not to picture it or see it in the nun's face feel better now though he said good she replied my mum's visiting today he said good for you she said has your mum visited you yet? he asked no I think she's making the most of me not being around Anne said it's a kind of holiday for her me stuck here after my fecking leg was chopped off he stared at the area of her skirt where no leg appeared she saw me in the hospital and brought me grapes and flowers and stuff and a bag of odd socks he stared at her one leg hanging from out of the skirt does it hurt? he asked it does at times and I go to rub it and it isn't there someone's stolen me fecking leg Anne bellowed to the kids playing on the swings and slide on the lawn of the nursing home they looked over at her then quickly looked away a nun nearby shook her head and wagged a finger Skinny Kid looked at the vacant area of skirt again what's the matter Kid want to see my stump? and she hitched up her skirt to reveal the stump of her leg and a glimpse of blue underwear he blushed and looked at his hands in his lap never mind Kid she said good manners is a load of crap.
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Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
GOOD MANNERS.
Skinny Kid sat by the white metal table on the lawn Anne sat opposite him her crutches by her chair I heard you puked last night? Anne said I did Skinny kid said all over the blankets and pillowcase nice said Anne it was the liver they made me eat he said I told them it made me ill but they said it was good for me and said I had to eat it serves them right she said Sister Bridget moaned at me he said O her she's got a face on her like a sufferer of haemorrhoids what's haemorrhoids? he asked painful bulging blood vessels hanging from the **** she said he tried not to picture it or see it in the nun's face feel better now though he said good she replied my mum's visiting today he said good for you she said has your mum visited you yet? he asked no I think she's making the most of me not being around Anne said it's a kind of holiday for her me stuck here after my fecking leg was chopped off he stared at the area of her skirt where no leg appeared she saw me in the hospital and brought me grapes and flowers and stuff and a bag of odd socks he stared at her one leg hanging from out of the skirt does it hurt? he asked it does at times and I go to rub it and it isn't there someone's stolen me fecking leg Anne bellowed to the kids playing on the swings and slide on the lawn of the nursing home they looked over at her then quickly looked away a nun nearby shook her head and wagged a finger Skinny Kid looked at the vacant area of skirt again what's the matter Kid want to see my stump? and she hitched up her skirt to reveal the stump of her leg and a glimpse of blue underwear he blushed and looked at his hands in his lap never mind Kid she said good manners is a load of crap.
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121 to 140 of 3251 Poets «5678»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by Michael Fried There are no poems by this poet on our website. Julia de Burgos There are no poems by this poet on our website. Keith Waldrop (b. 1932) Shipwreck in Haven, Part Four “Majesty” Susan Hahn Anthem Alice Lyons Developers The Boom and After the Boom Walt Whitman (1819–1892) When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking Kazim Ali (b. 1971) Ramadan Speech Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882) Aftermath Hymn to the Night Sharon Olds (b. 1942) I Could Not Tell Chamber Thicket Billy Collins (b. 1941) Silence Reading an Anthology of Chinese Poems of the Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire the Length and Clarity of Their Titles Corina Copp There are no poems by this poet on our website. Dorothea Grossman (1937–2012) I have to tell you For Allen Ginsberg Bridget Lowe There are no poems by this poet on our website. Diane Burns There are no poems by this poet on our website. Beth Brant There are no poems by this poet on our website. Terrance Hayes (b. 1971) Stick Elegy Cocktails with Orpheus Ann Taylor (1782–1866) The Baby's Dance The Cut Chrystos There are no poems by this poet on our website. Amit Majmudar (b. 1979) The Miscarriage Instructions to an Artisan Linda Rodriguez There are no poems by this poet on our website. «5678»
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Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
Untitled
We worship beans like it's Bobody's business, and Beans are my hero Beans are fibrous With protein and tasting Them makes me ready Beans over-acheive They did not have to be so Healthy and **** I would pour beans where Fate led me to decant them Anywhere, Bridget I'd love a salad Made of just beans and more beans I'd eat it with beans.
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Jan 20, 2021
Jan 20, 2021 at 9:14 PM UTC
Naboobay beans
Hey Skinny Kid one legged Anne said have you ever seen a ******** no you said thinking it some kind of fish she nibbled at her scrambled egg on toast at the table in the children's nursing home you mouthed Cornflakes and milk Anne was next to you eyeing the nursing nun nearby would you like to see a ******** Anne asked in whispered voice thinking it some rare find you said yes ok where will I see it? the beach? she almost choked on her scrambled egg are you all right Anne? the nun asked coming over her black and white habit swishing as she walked yes Anne said egg went down the wrong way well be careful the nun said and walked off again yes the beach if you like Anne whispered trying to keep a straight face but you're sure you've not seen one? you nodded your head not that I know of you said have you asked Sister Bridget? you added giving the nun a look o yes she's seen one Anne said straining the muscles in her face did she say so? you said o I know she has Anne said you mouthed more Cornflakes and milk little Miss Sad sat nibbling at her toast her tiny fingers holding hard the other kids eating their breakfasts the morning sunshine shining through the windows after we've finished I'll show you Anne said show him what? Malcolm asked who was sitting on Anne's other side never you mind prat face Anne said only special people can this see what I'm showing Skinny Kid then I'll tell Sister Bridget Malcolm said kiss my backside and drop dead Anne replied Sister Bridget Anne swore at me Malcolm said the nun shook her head and said Anne it's a sin to swear God is listening you know and so you sat and wondered if you'd ever see what it was one legged Anne was going to show.
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Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 3:52 AM UTC
WHATEVER IT WAS.
Hey Skinny Kid one legged Anne said have you ever seen a ******** no you said thinking it some kind of fish she nibbled at her scrambled egg on toast at the table in the children's nursing home you mouthed Cornflakes and milk Anne was next to you eyeing the nursing nun nearby would you like to see a ******** Anne asked in whispered voice thinking it some rare find you said yes ok where will I see it? the beach? she almost choked on her scrambled egg are you all right Anne? the nun asked coming over her black and white habit swishing as she walked yes Anne said egg went down the wrong way well be careful the nun said and walked off again yes the beach if you like Anne whispered trying to keep a straight face but you're sure you've not seen one? you nodded your head not that I know of you said have you asked Sister Bridget? you added giving the nun a look o yes she's seen one Anne said straining the muscles in her face did she say so? you said o I know she has Anne said you mouthed more Cornflakes and milk little Miss Sad sat nibbling at her toast her tiny fingers holding hard the other kids eating their breakfasts the morning sunshine shining through the windows after we've finished I'll show you Anne said show him what? Malcolm asked who was sitting on Anne's other side never you mind prat face Anne said only special people can this see what I'm showing Skinny Kid then I'll tell Sister Bridget Malcolm said kiss my backside and drop dead Anne replied Sister Bridget Anne swore at me Malcolm said the nun shook her head and said Anne it's a sin to swear God is listening you know and so you sat and wondered if you'd ever see what it was one legged Anne was going to show.
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I stayed inside most of today And watched Netflix Somehow, as soon as I envisioned you as Colin Firth In Bridgette Jones's Diary, I couldn't help but think "Am I your Renee Zelweger?" I certainly ramble a lot And say things I end up regretting I don't make sense sometimes I do silly things I get into uncomfortable situations a lot I certainly believe that I embarrassed you as well But we didn't end up together Like Mark and Bridgette Every time he kissed her My toes would tingle As I remembered the way you kissed me And when they went to bed together I remembered things about you I have tried hard to forget You are my Mark And I used to be your Bridgette Jones But I am not her anymore You have a new girlfriend But she is more like a lost puppy Than your leading lady
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Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
Bridget Jones's Diary
Salem, O Salem what were you about? It all started in 1692 It was dark, it was cold, a bit of snow still on the ground People arrested for witchcraft and some sentenced to death 19 people that year took their final breath People were drowned or killed with fire some people even hung with rope or wire Witch trials didn't just happen in Salem They happened all over the world The first is believed to be a woman named Angele Babin for *** with the devil And the last Bridget Cleary whose crime was unclear I wonder how many of these people confessed in fear We are monsters of our own making we cause fear and we **** Those that do no longer do it for protection they do it for the thrill But their is no thrill in taking a life there was wasn't then and there isn't now how could you take a life, that is my question. HOW
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 6:11 AM UTC
Salem
I am the burner of bridges, Said Bridget, the smoker of Cigarettes who lies and stares At the passing day. My childhood Follows me like a shadow’s dark; Its ghostly presence is always there, Its non wise words echoing in my Ear. I sleep with men for the lost love, kiss them in the search for my lost mother’s warmth, hug them In the lonely hours. My dead babies Cling to my legs, their tiny fingers Clutch at my dress as I walk along; Their eyes look up like lamps in the Still night. I am the aborter of babes, The owner of a useless womb; I push Out stillborns like a factory, give birth To a form but not to life; I am anyone’s Woman, any man’s wife, I lay and gaze At the moon, I watch smoke rise from My cigarette, it forms rings as father did, The smoke curling and rising with his Phantom presence there in room, the Ghostly cigarette hanging from his lips. I have searched for God in the blackness Of night, sought His love in the arms of men, Awaited His coming in the winter’s wind; His love is there, but I do not see, His arms Caress, but I do not feel; I am alone still. I am the walker of cities, the sitter in lone Cafes, the easy ride, the fuckable dame; I wear the badge of kiss me quick or leave Me never. I am the sleeper of nights in a Musty bed; see dead babies in heart and head.
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Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
BURNER OF BRIDGES.
Today I cried because my arms are fat And my eyes aren't pretty unless lined like a cat I don't want to be the mousy brunette Of average height and intellect I want to be that edgy girl who rocks vintage clothes And collects records, and reads, and looks like Bridget Bardot Not good enough for you, but how can I forget When my mind constantly replays the moment we met?
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Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
Don't Let Me Get Me
That's all so dandy, Kiss me, Mr. Prince Charming, Vanish tomorrow.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 12:19 AM UTC
Bridget Jones- A Haiku
She belonged to him, no other man, So he said to her each day she left. To sell the eggs and the dress she made, To pull them from the line of the poor. On the way to town each day she passed, The rings of County Tipperary. The ancient rings that live the wee folk, Who dance in moonlight and trick us all. That day she waited to see her kin, But she left no gift to please the old. So home she came with arms still heavy, and a chest that weighed a cough so foul. “My Bridget” as he knelt by her bed, Holding her hand as it shook with cold. In the crack of the flame voices he heard To hang him from his grief with despair. The news he heard was of his father Whom died the evening he felt alone. Mr Cleary swore and slammed his fist. “Midnight tonight or Bridget is lost!” The men in village knew the tale, Of the wee folk who cursed Bridget. The woman in the Cleary home bed, Was an echo of the wife he loved. They held her down and asked her, her name, She screamed and growled but did not reply, Three times they asked and still she refused. So tight the grips they beat her to sleep. The morning arrived, Bridget awoke, To her husband who looked upon her. His eyes full of loss and fear as-well, “my Bridget?” he asked “are they gone now?” She smiled and agreed, she was alone, So the priest came to deliver mass. Mr Cleary agreed and drank from the cup But he knew that his wife was not home. He asked her again, three more times; “Speak, Your name to me now, are you my wife?” Each time she replied “It is I, Yes.” Michael still knew his wife was away. That evening men from the town arrived And took Bridget deep into the bog, Where they bound her and lay her down flat, As she screamed for her husband to help. “It is I, It is me, Your sweet wife, Believe me my husband I am here, No faerie has seized my soul from me, No witch has uttered a devil curse.” Her mouth was covered and bound so tight Her screams were made only with her eyes. In front of the men, Michael asked her. “Are you my wife? My Bridget Cleary?” No voice or reply came from the girl. Her body lay still in the bog land. So onto a bed of wood she was placed, And burned in the cold evening moon light. The story was told through the village, That Bridget had fled with another, A man who bought all her eggs each week, But not everyone believed this tale. The priest of the village found Michael, Praying blood, sweat and tears in the church. He told him the fairies had taken, The changeling they had placed there before. The priest told the men of the Garda That ****** was rife in this village. That men had taken a sick women And burned her to death in the bog land. Michael was guilty of Manslaughter No conviction of ****** was passed For the people believed his story, The woman who burned was not his wife To this day the rings of Tipperary Still grow foxglove and weeds in the cracks, The Faerie mounds are feared like darkness And steered clear of, by those who live near. Even now it is heard in the school, By the children who skip on the rope. “Are you a witch, or are you a fairy, Or are you the wife of Michael Cleary?”
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Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
My Bridget
She belonged to him, no other man, So he said to her each day she left. To sell the eggs and the dress she made, To pull them from the line of the poor. On the way to town each day she passed, The rings of County Tipperary. The ancient rings that live the wee folk, Who dance in moonlight and trick us all. That day she waited to see her kin, But she left no gift to please the old. So home she came with arms still heavy, and a chest that weighed a cough so foul. “My Bridget” as he knelt by her bed, Holding her hand as it shook with cold. In the crack of the flame voices he heard To hang him from his grief with despair. The news he heard was of his father Whom died the evening he felt alone. Mr Cleary swore and slammed his fist. “Midnight tonight or Bridget is lost!” The men in village knew the tale, Of the wee folk who cursed Bridget. The woman in the Cleary home bed, Was an echo of the wife he loved. They held her down and asked her, her name, She screamed and growled but did not reply, Three times they asked and still she refused. So tight the grips they beat her to sleep. The morning arrived, Bridget awoke, To her husband who looked upon her. His eyes full of loss and fear as-well, “my Bridget?” he asked “are they gone now?” She smiled and agreed, she was alone, So the priest came to deliver mass. Mr Cleary agreed and drank from the cup But he knew that his wife was not home. He asked her again, three more times; “Speak, Your name to me now, are you my wife?” Each time she replied “It is I, Yes.” Michael still knew his wife was away. That evening men from the town arrived And took Bridget deep into the bog, Where they bound her and lay her down flat, As she screamed for her husband to help. “It is I, It is me, Your sweet wife, Believe me my husband I am here, No faerie has seized my soul from me, No witch has uttered a devil curse.” Her mouth was covered and bound so tight Her screams were made only with her eyes. In front of the men, Michael asked her. “Are you my wife? My Bridget Cleary?” No voice or reply came from the girl. Her body lay still in the bog land. So onto a bed of wood she was placed, And burned in the cold evening moon light. The story was told through the village, That Bridget had fled with another, A man who bought all her eggs each week, But not everyone believed this tale. The priest of the village found Michael, Praying blood, sweat and tears in the church. He told him the fairies had taken, The changeling they had placed there before. The priest told the men of the Garda That ****** was rife in this village. That men had taken a sick women And burned her to death in the bog land. Michael was guilty of Manslaughter No conviction of ****** was passed For the people believed his story, The woman who burned was not his wife To this day the rings of Tipperary Still grow foxglove and weeds in the cracks, The Faerie mounds are feared like darkness And steered clear of, by those who live near. Even now it is heard in the school, By the children who skip on the rope. “Are you a witch, or are you a fairy, Or are you the wife of Michael Cleary?”
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