Springtime and Old Irishmen
As an Irishman,
tis my prerogative
To be an authority on all things
Great and small
As an "old" Irishman
it's my fate
Of late (and as always)
To simply know it all
As an old Irishman of visage worn
Of craggy face, rheumy blue eyes
With clothing crudely rent and worn
Prone to ale, stout and whisky sighs
As an old wise, wizened Irishman
Who loves the winter as a wondrous thing
But as sure it is, I'm an old Irishman
I treasure most…the Irish Spring
As a wise, wizened, oft inebriated Irishman
Given well to know that one's only given so many things
I relish the pleasure of the Springs I have left
Until this old wrinkled Irishman takes wing
As when this old Irishman
leaves the moor and the glen
There's but a few things I'll rue
To not see nor to hear once again
ne'er again see na' more The hind end of Winters…
ne'er hear "Danny boy" pluck again at me heartstrings…
And Na' more to smell the cold Irish sea
Nor know the fresh faces of fine Irish Springs
poem by David Whalen
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Every St. Patrick's Day every Irishman goes out to find another Irishman to make a speech to.
quote by Shane Leslie
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Put an Irishman on the spit, and you can always get another Irishman to baste him.
An Irishman is never at his best except when fighting.
Wellington
Great captain if you will! great Duke! great Slave!
Great minion of the crown! - but a great man
He was not! He? the iron instrument
Of mere authority! the atheist
Of a conventional and most earthy duty!
To whom the powers that be were simply not
Of God-but in His stead! Shall we belie
All righteous instinct and profane all truth,
By calling great a man without a soul?
One who, apart from the despotic wills
Of crowned oppressors, knew no right, no wrong.
No faith, no country, and no brotherhood?
If such a man were great, may God most High
Spare henceforth to our universal race
All greatness, seeing it may sometimes be
A rigid, kindiess battlement of Power
Self throned and sanctioned only by the sword.
And if' as Englishmen are proud to boast,
He was their greatest countryman-alas!
For England's national sterility!
But they who thus belaud him, lie, as all
True patriots most feelingly perceive.
Besides, he was not England's son at all:
He was an Irishman, with whom the name
Of Ireland was a scoff! An Irishman,
Who for a hireling's meed and ministry,
Could tear away from his inhuman heart
The pleading image of his native land.
poem by Charles Harpur
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An Irishman is the only man in the world who will step over the bodies of a dozen naked women to get to a bottle of stout.
The Maori Pig Market
In distant New Zealand, whose tresses of gold
The billows are ceaselessly combing,
Away in a village all tranquil and old
I came on a market where porkers were sold --
A market for pigs in the gloaming.
And Maoris in plenty in picturesque rig
The lands of their forefathers roaming,
Were weighing their swine, whether little or big,
For purchasers paid by the weight of the pig --
The weight of the pig in the gloaming.
And one mighty chieftain, I grieve to relate,
The while that his porker was foaming
And squealing like fifty -- that Maori sedate,
He leant on the pig just to add to its weight --
He leant on the pig in the gloaming.
Alas! for the buyer, an Irishman stout --
O'Grady, I think, his cognomen --
Perceived all his doings, and, giving a shout,
With the butt of his whip laid him carefully out
By the side of his pig in the gloaming.
A terrible scrimmage did straightway begin,
And I thought it was time to be homing,
For Maoris and Irish were fighting like sin
'Midst war-cries of "Pakeha!" "Batherashin!"
As I fled from the spot in the gloaming
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Now here I am playing a passionate young Irishman who would die for what he believes in.
quote by James D'arcy
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As you know, I am neither Roman Catholic, Protestant Episcopalian, nor Presbyterian, nor am I an Irishman.
quote by John Bright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I tell you, St. Paddy, God-wot
An Irishman born he was not.
To be sure fair of face
He hailed from a place
Where he started off life as a Scot!
quote by by Margaret Kollmer
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The englishman greets, the irishman sleeps, but the scotchman gangs till he gets it.
They have nothing in their whole imperial arsenal that can break the spirit of one Irishman who doesn't want to be broken.
quote by Bobby Sands
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have you heard about the Irishman who reversed into a car boot sale and sold the engine?
quote by Frank Carson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Englishmen thinks seated; a Frenchmen standing; an American pacing, an Irishman, afterwards.
quote by Austin O'Malley
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Kill the Irishman
Val Kilmer, Christopher Walken, Linda Cardellini, Ray Stevenson, Vinnie Jones
by Jonathan Hensleigh from Kill the Irishman (2011)
Submitted by Film Fan
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This Poem is Just a Joke
An Irish duck shooter set off with three friends
All with their dogs and flasks of tea
At the end of the day
The Irishman was a learner and did not bag a single duck
Which he thought was very very bad luck.
The next week when he met his three friends
For another duck shoot
He had a huge catapult in his car boot
“What is the catapult for Paddy? ”
“Oh I know why I didn’t get any ducks last week,
I wasn’t throwing the dog high enough! ”
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Get Your O' Logists Mixed Up
My name is Dermat O' Logist,
An Irishman expert on skin.
My Dad goes by Herb O' Logist,
No slouch at Chinese medicine.
Once as we practised in tandem,
A terrible mix up took place,
A hapless patient at random,
Caused egg to appear on my face.
Cure-wise what he sought was herbal,
But wrongly arrived in with me,
Out came a whole load of verbal,
When implying I'd seen worse acne.
poem by Greg Costello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saint Patrick's Day
The worst of snow has disappeared
We had a lot of it this year.
But now that it has gone from sight
Our winter blues have taken flight.
The smell of spring is in the air
A robin sings its morning prayer
As morning sun climbs upward high
To brighten up the morning sky.
Among this picturesque display
I stand here on Saint Patrick’s Day
So proud to live in this country
An Irishman of ancestry;
'Erin go bragh' is what I say
But home is here and here I stay.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Just Memories
In life the only thing we can call our own is our memories.
I’m Irish and I’m a proud Irishman.
Oh, not for the usual sentiments.
The source of my pride runs deep. I can
Trace the direct line of my descendants.
My grandfather, the poor soul, came from Cork
With fifteen US dollars in his pants
And a big dream when he entered New York.
No large reception for this immigrant.
Just a sister who arrived earlier
In nineteen hundred through Ellis Island.
He met Mary Delea my Grandmother
Married and blessed it with a wedding band.
They had two girls, two boys, one was my dad.
They’re gone now, memories are all I have.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Intimacy
I hear people say, "I love my iPhone, "
Or, "I love drinking a Starbucks coffee."
Sometimes: "I love my Versace cologne, "
And also: "I love having this money."
I hear people say, "I love my Walmart, "
Or, "I love the drive-thru at Taco Bell."
"I love my TV. It's state of the art."
"I love the shoes that Nike has to sell."
I hear this: "I love American Idol, "
And, "I love a nice, cold Budweiser."
"I love medicines such as Demerol."
And, "I love my internet provider."
Yet, one thing I don't hear is, "I love you."
Saying that is too intimate to do.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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