It was not, by any means, a loss of faith;
Indeed, her devotion was a boundless, unfettered thing
Beyond proscription, beyond rote chant and catechism,
And what she found as a novitiate
Were shuttered gates and gossipy confessionals,
Standoffish priests, pig-eyed and pinch-lipped
Sisters who thought life’s commerce
No more than mechanical prayer and spotless linens,
The whole enterprise
Smacking of the exclusion of Heaven’s bounty.
So she demurred when the time came to take her orders,
And she returned to the world of pavements and lesser pieties,
Free to seek God on park swings and barstools,
In pleasures of the pastoral and the profane,
Though her faith is no Dionysian walkabout,
As she is passionate to the cusp of maniacal
When it comes to the Book of James’ admonition upon works;
She is often found among the sisters she once tiptoed alongside
At food pantries and clothing drives
(She is scrupulous about ministering to only secular needs,
As the Bishop is not happily disposed towards those
Who choose not to take the veil,
And the specter of excommunication is a prospect
Too awful to contemplate)
Afterwards clambering onto some vaguely roadworthy MTA bus
Back to her studio apartment in Green Island,
Where she often walks down to the Erie Canal lock nearby,
Praying for those who have travelled  near and upon the water,
Convenience store clerks and ragged Irishmen fleeing famine,
Feral kittens and insufficiently mourned mules.

I am an Irishman
My name is Brian Allan
I will party on the streets
Of st Patrick’s day
I don’t know what
I will dress up like
A pizza slice or
Or maybe a man
Who plays Gaelic football
I will play for Ireland
Hopefully we will beat australia
You see I want to party on the streets
At the parade so cool
The irish flag is high and large
Go the mighty Irishmen
You see our music is so cool
Go the mighty irishmen
St Patrick is upon us
Yes yes yes
The party is on
For the great Brian Allan
Party all night and day ****** long
We are descendant from the Irish
So that makes st pats cool
Ready if it’s hot to jump in a pool
Break no Irish rule
The coolest dudes around
Ahh the Irish
All in good fun

The real me, the spiritual me, break's free
From mine corpse;
Stepping into reality.

A rushing sound filleth mine head
A popping sound, mine spirit's above mine body, aloft the ground; I'm dead.

I seeith the nurses, the doctor's art frantic
Mother's praying outside the door;
Father's nerves art shot, he's panicked.

I couldst heareth mother interceding to the lord
On mine own behalf, the operation was over;
Tis mine blood got cold and fast.

The scalpel was thrown into a glass
I heardst the surgeon's word's, we couldn't save him, we tried ourn best, I kneweth he didst all he can, he worked harder then the rest.

At that thought of mind, I shot through space and time,
In a tunnel I ended up in, mine sin's hadst crossed mine mind;
The wormhole I was in, was dark, at the end; a pinhole of light.

I felt none worry, distress, nor unease, I kneweth this was living, as I was floating, without walking nor running, an unseen presence carrying mine feet: I felt the calm and light warm me.

I hadst read of this, from mine Christian belief's, and the spiritual book's and video's I hadst studied; the other's account's were true of this tube, we move freely, towards the brightness with none toe's nor feet coming.

I ended up inside the light, it engulfed me, it taught me, this is where all wouldst be alright; I stood at a gate, not with Pearl's, but as other's saidst, Pearlescent by heavenly view and sight.

There were no demon's like at mine abode, no stress filled hour's, no Pain nor Human insight; I was met at the entryway by mine great grandmother whom hadst passed after me and mother left her side during her death.

Granny saidst Brandon " we hath been waiting for thee, I sawest generation's of mine kin; French, English, Scottish, Greeks, natives, swiss, Irishmen.

Mother's and father's side both, hadst known I was coming, their already aware, as the lord telleth them there, the time and dates of their loved one's succumbing.

I was overjoyed, none word's to slip mine tongue, here I was an adolescent of knowledge, though all I wouldst learn in big sum's;
I kneweth this was safety, rest, peace, I felt with mine loved one's as one.

Mine kin stepped aside, the one I've begged for help was in mine vision, he hadst three robes, ivory white- with a purple sash, there were holes still in his hand's, though his beauty burned bright on his father God's behalf.

His eye's were as flame's, though his amour' was overwhelming, I felt mine body as a tuning fork, vibrating with his brightness, as if this was his second coming, the universe was seen through his core.

He grabbed mine shoulder, we walked farther in, I felt none sense of time,no age limit just a frame of mind; where the young and unborn were, as well as oldened in age, there was aloud none sin.

The messiah showed me the street's paved with literal gold, something unseen back on planet earth, a place where a river of life floweth from God's throne, everything's sharper, senses heightened, as well as sight, sound, feel, touch, taste. Holy grace.

Color's, tints, hue's, all loud, everything was alive, LIVING, I was aware of all,whilst I heardst angel's singing call's, they sung different song's, yet on Earth a million song's together wouldst be nonsense, this place the music all perfectly was fused.

There were mountain's, Hill's, real mansion's built, as if an acid trip back on earth we wouldst conjoin with the planet in a false trip; here this was what was, amazingly struck me how all was one, no illusion's like earthly drug induced fantasies, no if's, and's, why's, or because. Though question's flickered through me faster then I couldst speak.

Here there was no need to move mine Lip's, telepathically we knoweth all, no brain needed, none memory enhancer's, no need to speaketh with human Lip's, thought's talk back and forth, though by free will we canst use ourn mouth if desired.

Christ took me into mine creator's throne room, the amazing part is God and christ art one, no comprehension of that back on the blue globe, beneathe the sun; as God sat down on a tall structured seat.

A river of life flowing out of his feet, inside were seraph's, cherub's, a divine meet, Christ was on mine right side like another story of a man I hadst read, I was living, Christ interceded for me, I was far from dead.

Mine great architect spoke living word's from his mouth, he was pure light, not as if the bulb in thy house, he shined, gleamed,he was the reason the third heaven needed no sun nor moon.

He spoke to me , " Brandon mine son, thy work is not yet done, continueth in love, though go telleth more of mine forgiveness and grace, telleth man to love another, and to respect their whole race; as tis at that moment I turned to Christ next to me interceding, the lord christ cried next to me, we must remember Christ took human form on earth, tis he kneweth the feeling of bleeding.

At that moment I was out of God's sight, Christ took mine hand and body back into the tunnel light, I flashed shot like a bullet into that tube out of sight, mine great-grandmother took mine finger's and locked them, and took me back to mine carrion, I didst not want to go back though god spoke the day and dawn.

I felt as a glove mine soul slip back into that cold corpse, mine pastor I heardst around me praying with part of the church;
Mother held mine hand next to me, dad I listened to saying this he didst not deserve; at that moment mine eye's opened.

Mother didst not knoweth I saweth her praying outside of the room when I was out of mine body, she held me, felt me, a child again I felt. I sensed mother's love again, as I told mine mother granny saidst hello, and she's waiting for thou to, and I told dad that his father couldst breathe once again, his cancer's not in heaven, that dad's father was renewed.

As still earthly being's I kneweth mum and dad didst not yet understand all the thing's of the bible art true;
As tis when I left the hospital I thought of the one's waiting for me, generation's of family, as I was waiting for them to.

As tis the memory hit me
Of Christ's Tear's;
How he crieth like men
How he Hurt's when he seeith us turneth against him
How O' how I remembered freshly the hole's in his hand's and feet. He told me to touch them, as he didst to his disciples
I remembered how I bowed
To mine Christ
Mine savior,
I remembered god his father's strong word's
"Telleth man to love one another"
As tis men art forgetting the reason why we art here;
To love.
To love one another is God's purpose.




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

In a station in the city a British soldier stood
Talking to the people there if the people would
Some just stared in hatred, and others turned in pain
And the lonely British soldier wished he was back home again

Come join the British Army! Said the posters in his town
See the world and have your fun come serve before the Crown
The jobs were hard to come by and he could not face the dole
So he took his country's shilling and enlisted on the roll

For there was no fear of fighting, the Empire long was lost
Just ten years in the army getting paid for being bossed
Then leave a man experienced a man who's made the grade
A medal and a pension some mem'ries and a trade

Then came the call to Ireland as the call had come before
Another ****** chapter in an endless civil war
The priests they stood on both sides the priests they stood behind
Another fight in Jesus name the blind against the blind

The soldier stood between them between the whistling stones
And then the broken bottles that led to broken bones
The petrol bombs that burnt his hands the nails that pierced his skin
And wished that he had stayed at home surrounded by his kin

The station filled with people the soldier soon was bored
But better in the station than where the people warred
The room filled up with mothers with daughters and with sons
Who stared with itchy fingers at the soldier and his gun

A yell of fear a screech of brakes the shattering of glass
The window of the station broke to let the package pass
A scream came from the mothers as they ran towards the door
Dragging children crying from the bomb upon the floor

The soldier stood and could not move his gun he could not use
He knew the bomb had seconds and not minutes on the fuse
He could not run to pick it up and throw it in the street
There were far too many people there too many running feet

Take cover! Yelled the soldier, Take cover for your lives
And the Irishmen threw down their young and stood before their wives
They turned towards the soldier their eyes alive with fear
For God's sake save our children or they'll end their short lives here

The soldier moved towards the bomb his stomach like a stone
Why was this his battle God why was he alone
He lay down on the package and he murmured one farewell
To those at home in England to those he loved so well

He saw the sights of summer felt the wind upon his brow
The young girls in the city parks how precious were they now
The soaring of the swallow the beauty of the swan
The music of the turning world so soon would it be gone

A muffled soft explosion and the room began to quake
The soldier blown across the floor his blood a crimson lake
They never heard him cry or shout they never heard him moan
And they turned their children's faces from the blood and from the bones

The crowd outside soon gathered and the ambulances came
To carry off the body of a pawn lost in the game
And the crowd they clapped and cheered and they sang their rebel songs
One soldier less to interfere where he did not belong

But will the children growing up learn at their mothers' knees
The story of the soldier who bought their liberty
Who used his youthful body as a means towards an end
Who gave his life to those who called him murderer not friend

By Harvey Andrews 1972

Here come the Irishmen,kilted up and celted out,
about to to take the mic away and throw a smack into your mouth,
think they're ready lads?(nah I don't think so man)

No-one really wants a ****** sleeper hold from Sandman,
that's a pity cos your ****** rhymes are out of time,
cutting your umbilical-severing your lifeline,
save the fairytales skitz is reading grimms books,
looked into your future it was two words "you're ******"!
so **** the atmosphere,biosphere,feel the fear,
Grim Reaper in your sleep,lullabyes in your ear
like an earwig earworm but positive,
even though half the time the time things say are negative,
never mind blood type,rip the bag drink it off,
A Celt vampire,not sparkly with me shirt off
If I get me shirt off I'm Skyclad painted blue,
howlin'cross the battlefield to stick an axe in you!

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Me word is me bond and me eyes don't lie.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night.

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Speak truths clearly,me head held high.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night

See your guts drop,fullstop flip flop
just like 99% of all new Hip Hop,
what a mockery,you **** your pants in fear a me,
you're all the epitome of me me me me me!,
did me best to to help you out back in the day,
you spat it in me face so now I love your blood spray,
all brats,all backstabbers,not Celts,
if I take me belt off,the buckle leaves a welt,
across your facebones,skull+bones smashed bones,
are all's left if you step into the thunderdome,
to take a one on one,**** it bring your mates too
dental records-only way to ID you,
ICU will be your last place last breath,
you're literally starin' in the face of grim death
cause all your hatred is fuel for the fire-man,
its just like Thor shooting lightning bolts at Ironman.

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Me word is me bond and me eyes don't lie.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night.

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Speak truths clearly,me head held high.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night

You're so illiterate,words are illegitimate,
the Old ***** ******* Skitz still spits raw ****,
try try cry,cause you'll never reach the top,
best sounds like you're throwing alphabet spaghetti up,
*******,philosophy-horrorcore-got em all,
the length and the breadth of my mind is immeasurable,
so while you're miserable,wishing for some company,
I'm x'ing off the names on the list of who's dissin' me,
keep ******' me off if you want to,
I don't need a glock to blow a hole right through you,
use my skill set hackin' you old school,
modem in my left hand,right holds a power tool,
run,run,fool 'fore I let the dogs loose,
hip hop strangle hold,Sandman with a noose,
take a lesson in,kid you got your cards dealt,
whipcrack,smack!-you got a belt of the Celt.

*A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Me word is me bond and me eyes don't lie.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night.

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Speak truths clearly,me head held high.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night.
Yes I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night...

Mine pet;

When coming to America, I shalt showeth thee
All fifty states, of the United States
Mine queen....

Alabama; Down south, the place of the little river canyon national reserve, at the top of lookout mountain, where bird's canst be heard.
Alaska; A place far out west, a wild domain, a place untamed, where thou canst let out thy wildness.
Arizona; a place of ourn beloved poet ( soul survivor) a native American land, where cacti run the land's, and dirt is bright red.
Arkansas; To hot spring's national park, where beauty canst be seen in the dark, and soaked in through the warm bubbled water.
California; A place redwood tree's and Sequoia's, a land for the strange, and weird thing's, where all cometh together.
Colorado; where mine oldest brother liveth, where the crystalline water as a drink it giveth, and the *****'s peak highly amour'.
Connecticut; A place of Eastern sandshores, where we canst walketh in ourn galore, holding hand's, I'll sayeth me more!!!
Delaware; Delmara peninsula where we canst seeith awe-shocking elegance, where we canst travel in all remembrance.
Florida; thither mine middle brother's terra firma, a place of alligator's, swamp's, ocean waves, surfer's and hot sun drop's.
Georgia; The place where slave's fought hard, Atlanta city, a big place of life, fast and slow.where rich men go to liveth large.
Hawaii; Tropical island like thy own, not connected to the mainland though, swaying tree's like thy own, heavenly splendor.
Idaho; Where we canst get the best potatoes, I'll make them mashed, with gravy, chicken and tomatoes, I'll feed thee good.
Illinois; Where the huge city of Chicago sit's, large skyscraper's, and city bliss. Where the water sparkles the view.
Indiana; Marengo Cave National Landmark, where we canst sneak inside the cave's, then to Indianapolis, to wander through the shade.
Iowa; To Pikes Peak state park, where the Mississippi and Wisconsin river's meet to start, a beautiful picture indeed.
Kansas; Off to Rock City, an odd place where two-hundred boulders rest, then to Kansas Cosmosphere and Space Center to explore a place of knowledge, learning of the new, and happiness.
Kentucky; To Mammoth Cave National Park, in strangeness we shalt walk the dark, with lantern's to carry ourn shadow's.
Louisiana; Also the well known area of New orlean's, where jazz music doesn't stop and the people art it's scene. Where people overcometh!!!!
Maine; To get some of the best seafood around, the eastern wind shalt bloweth us around, as love thou shouldst bring a coat dear.
Maryland; Where Edgar Allen poe was born, where the Raven sung and mourned, though the sunshine shines it's people.
Massachusetts; The land of Many Irishmen and fishermen, settling thee down in Boston, where the accent of the easterly go loudly.
Michigan; The state just above me, they haveth natural lake's and the chill is breezed, the soul's art kind, and people dream, their alive.
Minnesota; where the snow piles to thy ride, the whitened picture is Christmas to thy eye's, as thou wilt need to dress warm.
Mississippi; Deep down south, where the language changes, word's art more southern and slang it clingeth, onto thy lip's.
Missouri; First to the St. Louis arch, it bend's to the sky and is six hundred and twenty five feet from thy heart, as high we shalt view.
Montana; Western freedom, wherein nature is painted, horses roam, thing's aren't tainted, guileless and natural.
Nebraska; Betwixt the corn stalks and field's, farmer's work hard and people art real, as hard work like thy country is known.
Nevada; To Las Vegas the desert Oasis, light's art big, as room's art spacious, different is here with a million face's, gambler's taketh their chances.
New Hampshire; Near Lake Winnipesaukee, a sensible area where being's doeth their best, eastward again, bringeth hot dress.
New Jersey; To Atlantic City on the boardwalk, a place of tales and beach defined walk, sunshined day's where lingo talk's, and the traveling shalt be sweet.
New Mexico; Dusty native land, the dirt is grained, the pinnacles of silence is maintained, by God's still voice.
New York; Aka- The big apple, where immigrant's once cameth through, immigrant's as me thou and you. Meaning were all the same.
North Carolina; Blue Ridge *****'s peak the entry, ancient places here art serene, tranquil relaxing is here mine queen!!!
North Dakota; farther again out west, talk to the Indian's to get the best, they'll giveth thee information to inform the rest.
Ohio; Mine state, the heart of the country, I mean by it's shape, were surrounded by all, we sit on a lake, we hath cornfield's, barn's, southern Hill's, northern star's, kind folk's and fancy cars, mixed with great stores for shopping, as I'll buyeth thee as much as thy heart canst be enlarged.
Oklahoma; Indigenous territory, creatures art relaxed, no need for no hurry.
Oregon; Where tree's groweth big, rainfall is the normal, and wild children art the kid's, beautiful scenery is blossoming mist.
Pennsylvania; On the eastern edge of the Appalachian Top's, green none make believe, the quietness is beauty, a part of God!!!

I want to dance in Ireland
in crowded pubs with rose-faced men
drinking my sanity with whisky, wine or gin.

I’d listen to angelic brogues spin
cherished tales, which they’ll profess yet again
oh, how I want to dance in Ireland,

amidst such folks I call my kin
whose natural pride is celebrated then
I will drink back my sanity with whisky, wine or gin.

my euphoric state of ecstasy will win
my senses from my limbs like a nervous linemen
yet, I want to dance in Ireland.

like the rest of my swaggering friends
I hope to be three sheets to the wind.
for I will drink my sanity with whiskey, wine or gin.

and in good company my lips will curl to grin
certain of such happiness when
life has brought me Irishmen
thankful to finally dance in my sweet Ireland.

The came on the boat, not too long ago.
We are not the natives to this land.
They came in starvation, hearing the call of the huddled masses...
all because one man couldn't plant more than one variety of potato.
They could drink water on the boat but that doesn't stop the thirst,
an irishmen is taken to the bottle at birth, but never weaned.
An unwelcome visitor, no doubt the target of slander, they took up the courage not many would have.
Go West Young Man.

high voiced Irishmen and spun sugar turned to
teenaged dreams and a teenaged circus

cold beaches in October like candlewax and promises
to call
bacon on the stove and cemetery gates and no one
to answer

if-this-was-the-cold-war to
this-is-the-*******-cold-war to
how'd-you-ever-get-so-blind

to the summer of warm warm warm and
the nights you'd have wanted at
sixteen and twenty
if you'd thought about it

and the big empty road in front of you that
under Orion's patent-leather belt looks so
not empty

how you're tall
and freewheeling

but not without

Be a man," keep them out noisy Irishmen break the fight with Italian stilettos from the shop of the British. Irishmen you'll be done when we’re done with ya. But stay in your country.

An irishmen
A Cherokee native
A scottsmen
A French belated
A greek poet
An English pilgrim
A swiss purity
Tis
This is mine ancestry's kingdom!!!!!

What doth this all maketh me?

A puzzled mutt!!!!

pinky promise

we've forgotten our mortality
our impulse to smile at *blooms
we've stared at childhood photographs
and wondered why we look so angry

the art of fault and denial are synonymous
we've stopped speaking in hopes that silence really does
speak volumes,
our bodies could fell, cracked down like oak and our voices
remain like cocoons, papery whispers swathed in duff,
still breathlessly prating, foolish and juvenile.

which goes to say-- our thoughts
far procede the vessel, would last beyond our
deaths and ancestry--

i once spoke about anger being passed down
through the blood of irishmen - who long held the
propensity to bar fight and brawl
long standing feuds poured from mouth to mouth
downriver, across the gap, occasionally skipping a generation
the woes of our fathers are dead languages that we keep--
tongues we deliver on our own

we lash out and are our mothers
or laugh and see our fathers
never quite our own until burgeoning, and not even that --
not all of us bloom, some of us violently tear away
break the root and toss ourselves among the rocks
wilted but brilliantly colored  
       desperate to
                   learn how to speak.

I'm a Corinthian of greecian shore
I'm a Irishmen of potato poor
I'm a Frenchmen of all amour'
Whilst also
A English men
Pilgrim brought
A Cherokee
Of sage smoke moss
I'm a swiss bred
Of clearing waters
Yay
A Scottish men of castle dwellers..

Tis all are me
And yes
I'm all of them!!!

I am what I am..

move to small island village
bartend at only bar
serve drunk Irishmen
sleep soundly

Today we will get the result
nose, short head or length.

Looks like a three horse race,
Sinn Fein, a lady on the reins.

Fine Gael by the jockey in the
blue shirt, a pro partitionist.

Fianna Fail, allowed IRA hunger
strikers to die in Maze prison.

Irishmen and Irish women in
the name of God and of the dead

generation, from which we receive
our old tradition of nationhood.

Ireland, through us, summons her
people to her flag and strikes for

her freedom.

Without a Sinn Fein government,
Ireland will never be united or free.

Time for a photo shop?

Ryanair owner Michael O’Leary
is a prominent backer of the remain.
   Blarney Blarney Blarney.
                         <>
    Irishmen and Irish women want what
    is worse for the English and this year
  being the 100 anniversary of the Rising,
we are particularly venomous towards you.

Beware of of the rogues with the brogues.

                              <>

"Burn everything British except their coal”

                                                  Eamon De Valera.

What is the difference between Israeli actions
and those of the Nazis and ******! Erdogan asked"
“How can you explain what the Israeli state has been
doing in Gaza, Palestine, if not genocide”
                       <>
When I was a wee lad I listened
to my grandfather, (an Irish freedom
fighter, buried with full military honours)
condemn the Germans for what they
did to the Jews, yet he had no gripe
with ****** as Ireland was neutral .

In the same century I listened to my father
condemn the Israeli's for what they were
doing to the Palestinians, he is dead now.
But I can assure you, if they were both
alive today and witnessing this horror,
they could but agree on one thing.
                       <>
It is our duty as Irishmen and women in
the name of god and of the dead generation,
to express our support in every way possible.
                     <>
Remember what Max Weber said:
" Better sleep well than eat well ".

Ryan.

Ps.

We come from a non colonizing nation
  nobody is enemied against us, we
         have a voice, so use it !