Saturday, July 4, 2009
Arianrhod: Queen of Heaven
Monday, March 2, 2009
The Ferryman and the Ship Yard
Chinkle of the ferry chains
In the river's downward wind,
Secures the dire mooring
Decayed landing platform...
Where thousands embarked, left and
Crossed and returned
For work; now is silent;
Swinging in tides, holding
Now… Only a harbor of
Memories.
In a dense fog comes a ghost...
A monk, nestled
In the oak ribs, and
Leather of a coracle...
Sinews struggling with the tunes
Of deep, hidden currents
One solid oar dipping
In rippling shadows
Of murmuring...
Dark energies.
Chanting a psalm
Through sheets of cold sleet
Creating ringlets and triskeles
On the cold iced surface
Of green, brackish Water.
Looking back, turning round
At the Southern bank, and shore
Of shingle, looking back
Across the river, with all time...
All the history, a dim haze
retreated and gone.
Hammers now silent;
No riveters or the bright
Embers of welder's torches;
Who talks with that...
That dialect now?
The tongues are also
Silent... unheard... Long gone and lost,
The precious Gold coin of an Emperor
Buried deep in the earth.
All Rights Reserved/Copyright David John Drew 2009.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Jean Francois D'or and the Eccentric Club
Saturday, January 10, 2009
A Tribute: Shanahan’s Last Stand
Shanahan’s Last Stand
Here is a poem I wrote in honor of Michael Shanahan, who was fired as the head coach of the Denver Broncos on the last day of 2008. I tried to evoke not just the man, but also his name in history, some of his achievements and demise. Not all in classical ‘Deibhidhe’ meter.
“Quando cadit Coliseus; cadet et Roma...” – Bede the Venerable
True the glorious tale, behold...
Of Shanahan, strictly good and bold!
Cosrach, brother of Cineadh;
Cosrach of Donchadh, well-bred
Donchadh Cuan, son of Seanchan
Paragons of Mother Shannon.
Clan Ui Bloid of the Dal gCais
Of Thomond, Munster: good grace
The Tordealbhaigh, O’Briens...
With MacNamara’s battle reigns.
Then Limerick, Cork, Waterford;
Bodyke, Feakle, Clare’s fair ward
Omulled the East, sweet Carlow
Wexford: Thro’ sun, wind, and snow.
The stronger kin grows ever strong;
Til famine is the lands’ sad song
Sept and Clans move far away
To prover their worth, earn their pay.
To foreign lands labour sought;
Wild geese in distant ports no doubt
In ships ‘cross oceans, another world
From Dublin to seek New York’s gold.
New Irish, of American breed;
Prospectors yearn to succeed
The ‘old-ways’ now reinvented
By émigré’s on prairie homesteads.
From Windy City’s Oak Park;
A son of Eire, green birthmark
Born of a dream, guided right
Stream of sparks, full of light.
Youngsters play to catch and run;
Chicago Bulls: All games hard won
Leyden High School to Illinois
Spirit of a sporting boy.
Lumberjacks and Gophers Gold;
College titles: the athlete bold
Watching, running, learning play
Reaching to tackle day by day.
Field-crushed and kidney lost;
Hard the red blood, dear the cost
Too near to death, feeling pain
Bleeding is a joyless strain.
From Quarterback to coaching;
With Raiders on an Angel’s wing
To green of St. Francis’ field
A lightening rod, spearhead, shield.
Denver Bronco’s: The best man;
Success: San Diego and Miami Clan
In nineteen ninety eight and nine
Green Bay Packers hear a victors rhyme.
All effort in discipline
Focus is a sharpened thing
Preparation: true battle plan
Men controlled by a tough man.
Soul of Leadership, of laurels
Of crowns won on hard hills
Never sleeping: tight-lipped and worn
Never faded, your loss we mourn
Thus the Man’s tale told so far...
Perhaps he leaves for another shore?
All Rights Reserved 2018 & Copyright David John Drew ‘Ollamh Draoi’
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Compass of the Winds
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Michael Phelps, & An Uninvited Guest - Two Cinquains
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Aeturnus: The Feast of Ages
Golden threads of light nurture ancient aether,
Woven dreams playing ‘cross bleak Northern shores;
Glowing in blind-black storms of frosted weather...
A snow-owl thro’ halo’s of heaven soars.
Roar of Boreas: swart screams into bitter cold,
Thro’ limbs of death dancing hawthorn, greenest pine;
Aurora’s ribbons flowing: lucent on bold blue...
Spectral hues streaming in waves thro’ space and time.
Polaris: stellar regent pearl, in guiding strong,
Thro’ sleep and years, navigating the knowing soul;
Sov’reign Arcticus chants a celestial song...
Willow’s bear revolves ‘round the crown of the pole.
Three flames: Magi charting the brightest star,
Caspar, Melchior, Balthazzar set on sure path;
Compassing desert, mountain, sea and lands afar...
Wisdom in the quest for the prophecy of true faith.
Gold, frankincense, myrrh: blossoms of Mother’s Earth,
Honour-gifts for the divine birth, new hope springs;
Treasure-balm: the warm spirit of Heaven’s hearth....
Word of Glory revealed: Angel Gabriel sings.
Vibrant echoes thrum deep in a church of stones,
Wicks flicker praise on shadow’d walls: songs lift a veil
Psalms adore in faith, love’s vision inspiring tones...
Welcome brighter bliss to vales of ghostly pale.
The tender prayer of worth is ever burning,
In shrines revered: shines eternal in dim-lit night
Breath of every dawn emerging, each Yule a yearning;
The feast of All-Ages... For the Prince of All-Light.
Copyright & All Rights Reserved / 12-20-2008 / David John Drew ‘Versificator Regis’ DBWF



