"lingus" poems
Don't tell me to smile
Exhortations to "cheer up" will be ignored
You don't know how far you're stretching me, do you?
Your head still in the clouds of safety where imbeciles call out to each other
Listen. Listen, do
We're exploring the heaviest things in the world
Too heavy for Sysyphyus to haul
I'm that kid you can kind of see through
The one on the left corner
With the cool bootleg Pink Floyd t shirt wrapping his thin torso
He's got a box of Playboys beneath his nightstand and he's barely 14 years old
He reads and incorporates that garbage into his pre-adolescence behavior
With dreams of visiting Plato's
Retreat
Picking up some bunnies using some of the better Party Jokes
His expertise at 'lingus and 'latio are as well perfected as can be without having actually performed them
But he could sure bust out the ******* Philosophy and would have held his own with the old geezer who wrote it
But he was only 14 and nobody seemed impressed with the amount of ******* culture he'd consumed
They weren't letting him in the cluuuub
Your ****** right he didn't feel like smiling
But he wasn't bored
And he didn't feel too serious
He'd let it slide this time
*to be continued
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
"O my dearest,
darling, bijou,
*born the silver
worker's daughter*,
"*how so fortunate
mine eyes
to witness thine
palatial wonder*!
"Mine pleasure t'*would
to take hold and
to pick the fruits
among your vine*—
"*the shyest heart
of rose hips what
has pewter cruxes
bold t'shine*!
"*And as eyes and
I pay credit
to a distent,
nearing nimbus*..
"These gem'*nate
tongues b'twine as
oaken staves—
the Brav'ra Lingus*!"
(..she responds,)
*"Mine auburn falls
for thee*, my dove,
but thy fervence, *once
to mine*, abates?"**
"Quite, my dear..
"tho, *ginger trapped
in tantric bond
what's sweetness*, *rare
n'a boon*, belates!"
*"..well*, *then
please use a ******
she said*.
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
There was a time when
we were given saucers
with out tea, now it is
just as taboo as sorcery.
We had Aer Lingus, an
Irish Airline, now it is
owned by B.A. which
is the Brexit Association.
Then there was Harrod's
now it is Harab's, no I am
not racist, but someone said
Di will be done on earth.
Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 7:13 AM UTC
Where is my suitcase?
Idolized is the inanimate idea
That surely to succeed
a Plan is what you need
we all know –
a Plan is a Degree.
Only half the space is occupied - surely I own more clothes than this.
Is it too much to ask –
Freedom?
Apparently so
For to avoid ***** looks and shaking heads
My mouth must spout some ********
Concerning myself
The strangest stranger of all
And the make belief notion that I know her.
*www.google.com
-
Aer lingus
-
One way*
No, I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
Yes, I want to do something with my life.
No, I haven’t picked a course yet.
No, I don’t have anything in mind right now.
Yeah. No, no. Not yet. No.
”Your boarding pass please.”
Whatever happened to living?
”Please ensure your seatbelt is in place for takeoff.”
It’s a bit sad, really.
*”So, where are you from?”
“Does it matter?”*
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 1:26 PM UTC
Colonel Lingus was a cunning linguist,
He would slither, and slobber and dribble,
With his tongue he would stroke, with a push and poke,
and a wiggle about in the middle,
Though the talk of the town, when he had his head down,
Not a word ever could be distinguished.
Colonel Lingus was a gourmet lover,
He would travel the world for its flavours,
But his favourite dish, sort of tasted like fish,
And he’d eat out with quite odd behaviours,
When he tasted sweet slimes, he would quiver with rhymes,
If you met him you’d never recover.
Colonel Lingus had a special interest,
He had mastered a delicate motion,
When he put it within’er, and then gestured ‘come hither’,
It was said he could summon the ocean,
So the ladies spoke highly, although often quite shyly,
But he played himself down like the simplest.
Jul 2, 2025
Jul 2, 2025 at 10:32 PM UTC
Bring me a poem. You can find them anywhere –
In the Aer Lingus, sitting next to you
And sometimes scattered among the summer leaves
Misplaced in gutters or floating in the air
Strolling along Bachelors’ Walk, or maybe
Adrift upon the Liffey-water, where once
The gunboats roared like dinosaurs, their years
Passing like smoke, like burning, falling walls
Poems everywhere –
Beside the fire, drinking a cup of tea
Or talking with a friend – poems everywhere!
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC