Leisurely Scribbles (part 5) (Part 1)

Hobbies & Pastimes Hobbies & Pastimes: Chat / Discussions
14342

Jem old fellow ! - I was pottering around in me ‘man shed’ today going through old files as one is wont to do and I’m sure ya a man yeself who keeps meticulous records. Well I came across this and have come to collect:

Jem
Chatterbox

Dublin
Joined: May 2010
Posts: 16,454

26-03-2015, 06:42 PM
#90
Originally Posted by Robert Junior →
Gumbud, for Poet Laureate.
Hear! Hear! Good God that man is good!, if you don’t get Poet Laureate I’ll make yeh a medal meself Gumbud

erhmm - I dinny get the Poet Laureate Jemmy??

where’s me blood medal ya miserable xxxxxxxxxxxx

14343

deleted it will frighten him too much!

14344

As usual, you two miss the crème de la crème.

14345

and tell me spits what’s nothing like the real thing been like in your life?? any high moments?

14346

Ducks tsk

I used to be considered full of fun
Sharing my joy with every one
From harmless pranks
Receiving jolly thanks
From those I cheered (up)
Which brings me to ducks?
How they arrived on the lawn
After a frightening storm
First there were two
Then…quite a few
I blame the two decoys
Placed for folks to enjoy
Avoiding the city centre
Where old folk scarce venture
Came an oasis of sorts
Where fake ducks had bought
An escape from the mundane
Two mallard ducks
What caused all the fuss?
I did not mean to cause trouble
From my quiet humble hovel
However, things turned nasty
When the ducks started to party
“They’re all fakes” said old Bertie
Bob placed them at one thirty
Now they’re all dirty

I’ve been staring at my qwerty
getting a tad shirty
Gone is my substance
Replaced with come uppance

That’s it until next time
I hope some words will rhyme

AS my former acquaintance Leon Petulengro, Seventh son of a seventh once said to me
Good life
Good health

in Romany

kushte sante
kushte bok

For good measure, after lunch he told me to “watch your back”
It was years later that it dawned on me that he meant my figurative back and not my physical back.

Ah well

14347

your rappin well today RJ! - heh mon yu does the rap well!!

14348

http://bestanimations.com/Holidays/StPatricks/happy-st-patrick-day-greetings-clover-gif-new.gif

14349

https://www.nola.com/entertainment/2019/03/nopd-officer-dances-an-irish-jig-at-st-patricks-parade-video.html

14350

It’s good to see you back on form Robert, just like the old days :smiley:

14351

yep we’re givin him intensive training as a rapper!!

14352

It must be working as he’s taken to it very well :023: :smiley:

14353

St. Patrick’s Day
BY DEREK MAHON
No wise man ever wished to be younger.

Down the long library each marble bust
shines unregarded through a shower of dust
where a grim ghost paces for exercise
in wet weather: nausea, gout, ‘some days
I hardly think it worth my time to rise’.
Not even the love of friends can quite appease
the vertigo, sore ears and inner voices;
deep-draughted rain clouds, a rock lost in space,
yahoos triumphant in the marketplace,
the isle is full of intolerable noises.

Go with the flow; no, going against the grain
he sits in his rocking chair with a migraine,
a light in the church all day till evensong,
the sort of day in which a man might hang.
No riding out to bubbling stream and weir,
to the moist meadow and white belvedere;
on tattling club and coffee house a pox,
a confederacy of dunces and mohocks —
scholars and saints be d-mn’d, slaves to a hard
reign and our own miniature self-regard.

We emerge from hibernation to ghetto-blasters
much better than our old Sony transistors,
consensual media, permanent celebration,
share options, electronic animation,
wave motion of site-specific daffodils,
closed-circuit video in the new hotels;
for Niamh and Oisín have come to earth once more
with blinding breastplate and tempestuous hair,
new festive orthodoxy and ironic icon,
their faces lit up like the Book of Kells.

Defrosting the goose-skin on Bridget’s daughters
spring sunlight sparkles among parking meters,
wizards on stilts, witches on circus bikes,
jokers and jugglers, twitching plastic snakes,
pop music of what happens, throbbing skies,
star wars, designer genes, sword sorceries.
We’ve no nostalgia for the patristic croziers,
fridges and tumble-dryers of former years,
rain-spattered cameras in O’Connell St.,
the sound mikes buffeted by wind and sleet —

but this is your birthday and I want to recall
a first-floor balcony under a shower of hail
where our own rowdy crowd stood to review
post-Christian gays cavorting up Fifth Avenue,
wise-cracking dialogue as quick and dry
as that in The Big Sleep or The Long Goodbye;
for we too had our season in Tír na nÓg,
a Sacred Heart girl and a Protestant rogue,
chill sunshine warming us to the very bone,
our whole existence one erogenous zone.

I could resign these structures and devices,
these fancy flourishes and funny voices
to a post-literate, audio-visual realm
of uncial fluorescence, song and film,
as curious symptoms of a weird transition
before we opted to be slaves of fashion —
for now, whatever the ancestral dream,
we give ourselves to a vast corporate scheme
where our true wit is devalued once again,
our solitude known only to the rain.

The one reality is the perpetual flow,
chaos of complex systems. Each generation
does what it must; middle age and misanthropy,
like famine and religion, make poor copy,
and even the present vanishes like snow
off a rope, frost off a ditch, ice in the sun —
so back to the desktop and the drawing board,
prismatic natural light, slow-moving cloud,
the waves far-thundering in a life of their own,
a young woman hitching a lift on a country road.

Derek Mahon, “St. Patrick’s Day” from New Collected Poems .

14354

St. Patrick’s BREASTPLATE

I bind unto myself today
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this today to me forever
By power of faith, Christ’s incarnation;
His baptism in Jordan river,
His death on cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb,
His riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of cherubim;
The sweet Well done in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors’ faith, apostles’ word,
The patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the star lit heaven,
The glorious sun’s life giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward;
The Word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan’s spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart’s idolatry,
Against the wizard’s evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave, the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the name,
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.
By whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

14355

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall…

14356

Ok Rhian,
Was he pushed or did he fall?

14357

nice stuff RJ is this already copyright or yours?

14358

Conspiracy theorists would have us believe that a third party was indeed involved in the egg toppling
but I have it on good authority that Hump (to his mates) was rather partial to a tipple or ten at The Comely Wench Inn and had been seen wobbling and blowing loud raspberries just minutes before he climbed upon that wall

14359

my guess:" he was so grossly overweight he became suicidal and in a fit of abject sobbing overbalanced - it was accidental but it shattered him for ever and they couldn’t persuade him to have shell re-constitutive surgery?

14360

Humpty Dumpty was a cannon.

14361

don’t you mean a Canon?