Quotes about mick, page 18
This Mick on the Next Stool
So this Mick on the next stool,
who's as serious as Yeats
but looks like Wilde,
stares at me,
with eyes crossed,
sipping Guinness through the foam.
Finally he burps and says,
'I'll bet that growth is cystic.
If it were on my nose,
I'd light this match,
hold a straight pin over it,
then prick it.
Poof! There'd be
a belch of goat cheese, sure.
But what of it?
You'd need a Q-Tip,
maybe a dropp of p'roxide.
But in two weeks
new skin would bloom
smoother than a baby's bum.
[...] Read more
poem by Donal Mahoney
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Welcome home!
As soon as I walked in, Kilmartin called out,
'Welcome home, brave Ulysses, from the strife! '
Now I was glad to be back in the neighborhood,
you can count on that, and the red-faced Kilmartin
with his exuberant Irish greeting, set my heart at ease.
All the lads who had dodged the draft and avoided combat
were sitting on stools at the mahogany bar in Kilmartin's
Kennel Club, waiting patiently for a live one to buy drinks.
Three years in the Far East had changed me, and fighting
in paddy fields had awakened me to what the world had
in store for a dumb mick from the south side of Chicago!
Sink or swim, lad, I thought as I scanned the crowd.
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Old Number Seven
A doubleheader in the Bronx.
Bright sunshine floods the end of May,
Old number Seven at the plate,
Mantle on his last good day.
A pair of homers, five for five.
The legs are wrapped, he strides with pain
Mickey takes the bases slow
He has to sit the second game.
It would have been a fitting end
to wave his cap and walk away.
To end like Ruth and Williams did
and homer on his final day.
But Jimmy Foxx is still in reach
so Mickey drags himself to play.
The Cathedral in the Bronx half empty
Few come to watch him fade away.
[...] Read more
poem by John F. McCullagh
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Our Democracy
We don't have binding referendums or judicial reviews,
No plebiscites, proportional representation but who knew?
No set-date elections, recall or compulsory voting rules,
Not even elected senators mentioned in any of our schools.
We are not allowed death with dignity no matter how sick,
No matter what religion you are - Protestant or Mick,
And what happened to Sue Rodriguez, could happen to you,
Just about the time you're ready to die and say adieu.
Canadian politicians like all politicians dread recall,
Whether it's federal, provincial or even city hall,
Their party is more important than their constituents,
But this is seldom if ever very mentioned though continuous.
poem by James Bredin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Just Some Names Of Sports Legends
The G A A fans have their own heroes of for to sing
In Gaelic Football Mick O Connell in Hurling Christy Ring
In Boxing Sugar Ray Robinson knew of Worldwide fame
And Babe Ruth's lives on as a great Baseball name
In Soccer Maradona and Pele and George Best
Were never found to be wanting when put to the test
And in Tennis Maureen Connolly the legendary Little Mo
The greatest of her time six decades ago
The A F L fans have Leigh Matthews for to talk about
Their game's greatest player though that not without doubt
And golf has Norman, Nicklaus, Woods, Watson and Gary Player
Of their game's major honours they took the lion's share
And athletics have Nurmi and Zatopek, Owens and Flo Jo
Legends that most sports fans of surely would know.
poem by Francis Duggan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Air Guitar
for Tad
Now that the radiance of day
has been sucked into the hole
beyond those distant hills,
I am lying alone and listening,
hands clasped behind my head,
staring at the ceiling.
I take up the guitar,
on which I am a virtuoso,
and take a bottle-neck slide riff
for Bonnie, a bass-line tumble
for Flea. Eric, you're the man,
but you concentrate on the lyrics,
I'll rip on this solo. Neil,
you cajole the crowd,
I'll strike the thunderous chords,
the cacophonic feedback. Hey hey
my my, listen to me tear up
this thirty-two bar, one note solo.
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Meade
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Everybody's Makin' It Big But Me
Elvis he's a hero he's a superstar
And I hear that Paul McCartney drives a Rolls Royse car
And Dylan sings for millions
And I just sing for free
Oh everybody's makin' it big but me
Oh, everybody's makin' it big but me
Everybody's makin' it big but me
Neil Diamond sings for diamonds
And here's ole rhinestone me
Oh everybody's makin' it big but me
Well I hear that Alice Cooper's got a foxy chick
To wipe off his snake, keep him rich
And Elton John's got two fine ladies
And Doctor John's got three
And I'm still seein' them same old sleezoes
That I used to see
Oh, everybody's makin' it big but me
Everybody's makin' it big but me
I've got charisma
And personality
[...] Read more
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Every Hoodie Has His Big Honk
New words pop up everyday
to add in the dictionary.
Now one of the later words is Hoodie
to go with the collection.
Now a Hoodie is someone
who looks a bit like a Monk.
However, what is the first thing that you see
when you spot one of them,
it is their trademark,
and I’m not talking about the hood,
I’m talking about their honk
that stretches out from within.
The bigger the honk,
the bigger the hood
to try to cover it.
Now Mick Jagger has his lips,
but a Hoodie always has his honk.
Everyone one is different,
just like a fingerprint,
even Scotland Yard have started
[...] Read more
poem by David Harris
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
On A Message From Timothy MacSweeney
A message from Timothy MacSweeney a son of Dominic Mac
The proprieter of the Star Ballroom brought the old memories back
Of the long gone nineteen sixties and seventies when i was a young man
When on thursday nights I danced in the Star ballroom 'Where love stories began'.
Dominic's advertisment in the Cork examiner for The Star Club included the caption 'Where love stories begin'
If there were a prize for advertising originality this one would surely win
In the tough game of promoting entertainment Dominic did succeed
One well known and respected and a clever man indeed.
In the Star Ballroom in the sixties and seventies Ireland's best Showbands did play
Joe Dolan, The Royal, The Capitol and Big Tom all big names on their day
The Miami, The Champions and The Dixies, Larry Cunningham and Mick Del
Of the sixties and seventies I have good memories as memory serves me well.
A nice message from Timothy macSweeney one I have yet to meet
Took me back to the sixties and seventies to Duhallow and Millstreet
To the Star Ballroom on thursday night where we danced till after one
Our young years were our best years when all is said and done.
poem by Francis Duggan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Mick Kissane From Kenmare
Though living far from Ireland he's still Irish to the core
And he still talks of Kerry and Kenmare and Inchamore
And he derive much pleasure knocking Thatcher and the Queen
And he feels ever faithful to the wearers of the green.
He's living in Mount Evelyn renowned for it's gum trees
Where currawong and magpie pipe their joyful melodies
Where kookaburra wake you at the dawning of the day
With his harsh like laugh that one can hear a half a mile away.
But he like it in Australia and he feel settled down
In the valley of the gum trees a short drive from Melbourne Town
And though he still loves his Ireland he's in Aussie Land to stay
But he will return to Kerry for a two month holiday.
He love Australian football and he barrack for Hawthorn
But he has no love for soccer wish that game were never born
He say soccer is a cissy game that the English popularized
But if he praised anything he consider English I for one would feel surprised.
[...] Read more
poem by Francis Duggan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!