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Poetry Magnum Opus

PS to Paean


dedalus

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Sold off the donkey and the cart,

upgraded to a sweet young tart;

she'll grow potatoes in the garden below

and keep me warm when cold winds blow.

 

Kirche, Kueche, Kinder!

Show yer tits from out the windah:

of ancient wisdom here's a segment,

keep them barefoot, pale and pregnant.

 

Took over me cows to Major McNeill,

and spat on me fingers to close the deal.

I say, says he, she's a rattling fine gel!

Beggin yer pardon, sorr, shove off to hell.

 

Ham and potatoes, buttermilk,

eyes of a doe and a voice like silk,

I'm king of me hearth, the first among manny,

next thing you know she installs her Granny.

 

Kirche, Kueche, Kinder!

Show yer tits from out the windah:

of ancient wisdom here's a segment,

keep them barefoot, pale and pregnant.

 

In the name of God, who's this ancient crone?

O Dinny, me darlin', ochone, ochone!

Isn't it me mammy's mammy thrown off the land,

haven't I brung her here for to give us a hand?

 

Would you look at the fuckin state of her?

We'll be needin a cup, a saucer, a plate for her,

and food to put upon them, thought of that ye ninny?

Ah, sure, don't I love you when you're angry, Dinny!

 

Kirche, Kueche, Kinder!

Show yer tits from out the windah:

of ancient wisdom here's a segment,

keep them barefoot, pale and pregnant.

 

Jayz, the way the oul' wan would look at yeh

would make yeh ... shiver & shake, mafookachah!

There's me, the unhappy tenant farmer,

along one day comes Lieutenant Dharma.

 

I say, my man, do you know there's a war?

I don't, sir: what do they be fighting for?

Ha, ha ... jolly good ... I admire your pluck,

I'm recruiting locals, will you try your luck?

 

Kirche, Kueche, Kinder!

Show yer tits from out the windah:

Etc.

 

The English, says me Da, craythurs from Outher Schpace,

with no sense at all of being out of place;

they rob and destroy us, do precisely what's right for them,

then expect we'll turn around and fight for them.

 

Does that make sense, son? No, it doesn't, Daddy.

 

The oul' Granny, she gives me the eye,

gives a toothless grin and bye and bye

sidles up beside me, such an awful smell,

says Dinny Dinny, I wish you well.

 

Kirche, Kueche, Kinder!

Etc.

 

The Lieutenant never made it back to town,

a phantom lorry, they say, just ran him down.

Granny grins, boldly she holds up her plate,

I nod, the wife smiles: accident or fate.

 

A double rainbow is a thing of no wonder,

it precedes or follows the rain and thunder;

you'll go down to the wood to the third tree over

and dig, says Granny, in the nettles and clover.

 

KKK

Etc.

 

With my 4000 Pounds of Leprechaun gold

I bought land and dresses for Lily untold;

I even offered oul' Granny a bath,

but she said it was tempting the faeries' wrath.

 

Ye will prosper, she said, for as long as I live,

but when I'm gone I'll have nothing further to give.

You must love your wife and be careful and wise

for the old ways will never return.

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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Ah, the charm of rural living. It seems the lad gambled, and he won: what started out looking like chips and dip turned out a pot luck dinner.

 

I like how the refrain is diminished as the poem moves along. It gives it that "you get the point" effect.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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