Quotes about Joyce, page 2
Pre-Ulyssean Dilemma
Why did Joyce call the guy Athy
When he could have called him Naas?
On a map of Kildare
Two towns, at a glance,
Rhyme with what's found
In a character's pants.
Young Dedalus shared a sickroom
With a guy nicknamed 'a thigh'.
'An arse' it could have equally been.
Why not? I'll give it a try.
First thoughts were Joyce were a shy man;
Then I guessed his mind too high class.
The truth of it is, he was tickled
By the towns of Athy and of Naas.
Just to mention Athy to an Ireman
Brings on a joke of an arse.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Love's Concerto In June
Authors - Joyce Hemsley
and John William McGrath.
By the moon, I was enraptured.
I cried like a weeping willow,
reaching for the faraway stars
and memories beneath my pillow.
Like a whirlwind you came to me,
I weakened to words the singers croon.
Passion I felt, was more than real
Love's concerto ~ playing in June.
I dream a slightly different dream,
time goes by and I can't forget you;
my heart may show a thousand scars,
how could I believe without you?
Like a child you may turn away
obscuring the stars and sun at noon.
Tears of sorrow I could not conceal
without 'love's concerto in June'.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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The Way To My Heart
Authors: Joyce Hemsley
and John William McGrath.
National Poetry Day, tomorrow
9th October 2008...
Poetry and gentle breezes
forever go together
from a sunny day in May
until the glory of September.
I feel I am a solitary cloud
floating over Holy ground;
summertime and nature's bounty
spin my world around.
In early morning's light of day
our poems shine with colour,
the whirlwind of true romance
makes them sparkle as no other.
And in the beauty of your face
[...] Read more
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Threefold
Poet Edward Lear introduced
the 'nonsense' five-line limerick
into Britain many years ago;
I quote one by Edward himself
followed by two Starlite Cafe
Poets.
One ~ Edward Lear:
There was a young lady whose eyes
Were unique as to colour and size
When she opened them wide
People all turned aside
And started away in surprise.
Two ~ John William McGrath:
There once was a man from Kentucky
Who thought that life was just ducky
Wherever he'd go
He'd put on a show
Making everyone feel they were lucky.
[...] Read more
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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The Limerick
Edward Lear, poet and humorist
introduced the popular five-line
Limerick into England in the year
eighteen-twenty. I quote one
limerick by Edward himself,
followed by Starlite Cafe Poets:
Verse 1 - by Edward Lear:
There was a young lady of Riga
Who rode with a smile on a tiger
They returned from the ride
With the lady inside
And the smile on the face of the tiger.
Verse 2 - by John William McGrath:
There once was a man from Reno
Who went into a little casino
He lost all his pay
On that fateful day
To a fast-dealing young Philippino.
[...] Read more
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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God's Whispering Breath
Authors: Joyce Hemsley
and John William McGrath III
God's whispering breath is usually heard
whilst gathered in a Temple of Glory.
But no place is finer that a forest of green
as told in this fairy-tale story.
Two young lovers ramble together
deep in the heart of the forest,
they hear only God's whispering breath.
His name is the treasure and will be forever.
His kingdom reigns high up above...
as they silently bask in the warmth of His love.
Somewhere beyond the depth of the forest
there's a beautiful land of the rarest,
on top of the world, nothing less,
where hearts find pleasure romancing forever
God's promise, all fresh and new...
as they silently bask in the warmth of the Blue.
[...] Read more
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Joyce
The poesy inspiration to her comes easily
The poetess from Sunderland by the Atlantic sea
Sharing with the universe her great gift of joy
She will live forever her sort never die.
In February in England the morning fields are gray
But her poems fresh and lovely as the first flowers of May
And though the flowers of Summer will be long gone by Fall
Joyce's poems will live on and verse lovers will recall
How she make many happy with her gift of song
Her verses light and breezy they just float along
Like a windblown feather in the Summer air
Floating in the heaven's free of any care.
She's one in a billion people like her rare
Joyce Hemsley from Sunderland her great gift of poetry share
With all lovers of poetry, she's known far and wide
Greatness of the lady cannot be denied.
[...] Read more
poem by Francis Duggan
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From: A King Of Kings, A King Among The Kings
Come, let us rejoice in James Joyce, in the greatness of this poet,
king, and king of poets
For he is our poor dead king, he is the monarch and Caesar of English,
he is the veritable King of the King's English
The English of the life of the city,
and the English of music;
Let them rejoice because he rejoiced and was joyous;
For his joy was superior, it was supreme, for it was accomplished
After the suffering of much evil, the evil of the torment of pride,
By the overcoming of disgust and despair by means of the confrontation of them
By the enduring of nausea, the supporting of exile, the drawing from
the silence of exile, the pure arias of the
hidden music of all things, all beings.
For the joy of Joyce was earned by the sweat of the bow of his mind
by the tears of the agony of his heart;
hence it was gained, mastered, and conquered,
(hence it was not a gift and freely given,
a mercy often granted to masters,
[...] Read more
poem by Delmore Schwartz
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Joe Golightly - Or, The First Lord's Daughter
A tar, but poorly prized,
Long, shambling, and unsightly,
Thrashed, bullied, and despised,
Was wretched JOE GOLIGHTLY.
He bore a workhouse brand;
No Pa or Ma had claimed him,
The Beadle found him, and
The Board of Guardians named him.
P'r'aps some Princess's son -
A beggar p'r'aps his mother.
HE rather thought the one,
I rather think the other.
He liked his ship at sea,
He loved the salt sea-water,
He worshipped junk, and he
Adored the First Lord's daughter.
[...] Read more
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Ballad: Joe Golightly - Or, The First Lord's Daughter
A tar, but poorly prized,
Long, shambling, and unsightly,
Thrashed, bullied, and despised,
Was wretched JOE GOLIGHTLY.
He bore a workhouse brand;
No Pa or Ma had claimed him,
The Beadle found him, and
The Board of Guardians named him.
P'r'aps some Princess's son -
A beggar p'r'aps his mother.
HE rather thought the one,
I rather think the other.
He liked his ship at sea,
He loved the salt sea-water,
He worshipped junk, and he
Adored the First Lord's daughter.
[...] Read more
poem by WS Gilbert
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