tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91343119118608570982024-03-13T09:51:09.588-04:00Penny Poetry by Eamonn LoriganAn annuated Irishman with a spotty publication history trying to write one decent poem every couple of days for the rest of his miserable God-bedeviled life in the obviously contradictory hope that he will thereby find salvation.Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-11577531482639512112014-04-16T07:45:00.001-04:002014-06-03T20:57:38.434-04:00Catullus 58 -- About A Mutual Friend<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Caelus, o</span></span><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">ur Lesbia,</span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Lesbia -- you know :</span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The Lesbia Catullus loved, </span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">More than everything he owns,</span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Even more than himself,</span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">He loved her, her alone.</span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Right now on some</span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">crossroad or corner,</span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">goes down</span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">on the generous,</span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">venerous young men</span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">of Rome.</span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: right; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: georgia, palatino, 'book antiqua', 'palatino linotype', serif; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"> Carmen LVIII</span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Caeli, Lesbia nostra, Lesbia illa,</span></span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">illa Lesbia, quam Catullus unam</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">plus quam se atque suos amavit omnes,</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">nunc in quadriviis et angiportis</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; max-width: 99.9000015258789%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">glubit magnanimi Remi nepotes</span>.</span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-85847179234232647772014-04-14T20:58:00.002-04:002014-04-15T12:57:49.950-04:00Golgotha<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When
he was born</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">my
blood flowed over straw</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And
when he died</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">his
blood dripped down like rain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My
firstborn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm
Egyptian now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
prayed to Isis</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">at
his feet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal;">He
screamed.</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-25972730169169035002014-04-14T11:41:00.002-04:002014-04-14T20:23:19.057-04:00Mary In Egypt<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our
best times were in Egypt, when we fled.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
spoke a foreign tongue, and , yes, I prayed</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">to
Isis, screaming till my insides bled.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">then
sat outside in heat and blowing sand</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and
watched my baby, mindless as he played,</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">the
goddess his protector in this land.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And
when I healed, the old man finally turned</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and
touched me, and beneath her moon we made</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">our
second baby. Oh, I thought we could</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">stay
there forever. I was still a child.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">*</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One
day he came to me. He shambled, old,</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">into
the kitchen where I kneaded bread</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">to
make my family's dinner. When he said</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's
safe, we can go home, that's when I died.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The
baby in my womb still drank my blood.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The
old man smiled. He always was so kind,</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">his
touch at night more gentle than a bird.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
tried to tell him, but my tongue was wood</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and
Isis did not answer when I called.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The
fatherless one, though, he rose and stood</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">alone
amid his toys as if those words</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">had
killed him too. How could he understand</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">what
angels' whispering voices in my head</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">had
always told me : he was not my child.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We
had not run from Herod but from G-d.</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-66028416287931705162014-04-14T11:29:00.003-04:002014-04-15T12:50:34.087-04:00My Father<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Who finally walking<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">down a checkered linoleum<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">corridor long, bright-lit,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">in a nursing home just<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">after breakfast<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;">sat heavy in his chair and quiet</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">breathing empty no one hating<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;">whom the nurses knew</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">to call mister<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">and ask permission<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">before touching his things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-79959153476461463822014-03-04T14:07:00.002-05:002014-03-04T14:07:56.976-05:00The Ballad of Vlad<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The Ballad of Vlad</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Vlad,Vlad, he’s a very bad lad.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">He wants what old Joe Stalin had</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">From Berlin out to Volgograd</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">An Empire like his dear old Dad</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Grew up in back when Petrograd</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Still went by the name of Stalingrad.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">So, after the last Olympiad</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">He looked around and he got sad.</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />Ukraine was turning west, egad!<br />The Fleet was in danger. Vlad got mad.<br /><br />In 1954, Ukraine<br />Got Crimea once again<br />Given away by that old pain,<br />Nikita Kruschev. Quite insane,<br />If you ask Vlad. He will explain<br />That what you have conquered should remain<br />Forevermore in your domain.<br />It went against his very grain<br />To watch Ukraine go down the drain.<br />The West would understand. It’s plain<br />As rain. He would invade Ukraine!<br /><br />So he told his army, “Boys, I’ll see ya’<br />In two days time inside Crimea.<br />It won’t take long. It will just be a<br />Cakewalk. Crimea will be free. A<br />Couple days. No more, you’ll see. The<br />West will just have diarrhea.”<br />A couple days went by and he a-<br />-ttacked. And all the world could see a<br />Russian Premier such as he a-<br />-ssumed himself always to be: a<br />Star of a Tsar atop Crimea.<br /><br />A day after Crimea fell,<br />The market tanked. The ruble, well,<br />Less said the better. Truth to tell,<br />Vlad’s whole economy went to hell.<br />And Europe, where he liked to sell<br />His oil and gaz au naturel<br />Decided that they could dispel<br />Vlad’s dreams of conquest and compel<br />Him back to Moscow, quick as hell<br />By pressure economical.<br /><br />And so they told the Russian Bear<br />Hey, Vlad, bad lad, get out of there.<br />We don’t want your army where<br />It shouldn’t be. How could you dare<br />To gobble up more than your share<br />Of Europe. Sure, it isn’t fair<br />To circumscribe the countries where<br />The Russian bear may have his lair.<br />But, Vladimir. You’re not the heir<br />Of Papa Joe (who had more hair).<br />You’d best beware! Don’t linger there.<br /><br />Now comes the question, will he do it<br />Or will he tell the West to screw it<br />And turn Crimea into suet?<br />It isn’t easy to intuit<br />His thoughts, his fears, his point of view. It<br />May be that he’ll come to rue it<br />If he persists. Perhaps he blew it.<br />He clearly doesn’t think that’s true. It<br />Seems that there there’s just one thing to it:<br />Vlad’s a mad cad, we always knew it.<br /><br />And pretty soon we all will see<br />If Vlad will have his victory<br />Or if it is, as it may be<br />That, through his rude proclivity<br />To stretch the Empire, sea to sea<br />(Atlantic and Pacifically)<br />And from Ukraine, specifically<br />To gain again what used to be<br />The Motherland’s own property,<br />He’s started accidentally<br />What then would be his legacy,<br />The final conflict: World War III.<br /><br />Too bad Vlad had the rad idea<br />To fuck us with a ruckus old Crimea.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-79882281258668926452013-03-01T12:32:00.002-05:002013-03-01T12:32:58.378-05:00A Doggerel on the State of my BodyMy knees are arthritic<br />
My eyes barely work<br />
I'm near paralytic<br />
And God is a joke.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-63496769293791075472012-12-18T22:46:00.004-05:002012-12-28T18:13:39.717-05:00After<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We waited ten years. I wish that I
could say</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
the slaughter at the ending was more
sweet</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
for all that time. It wasn't. Oh it
may</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
have been ambrosial for the kings, but for the</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
others, the low ones, born to feed the
gods</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
in battle, strong backed men who manned</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
the oars of the black ships, whom war's bleak odds</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
disfavored and who die alone,
unmourned,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
there was just the bitter taste of
blood</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
the wild keening song of slashing blades.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Know this: for one long moment it was
good</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
to stride wide streets triumphant and
to flay</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
our enemies until they were just meat</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
carved for the hungry gods, who swallow lives</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
like water on some distant mountain
peak</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
where vultures perch and raptors swoop
and dive.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And when our enemies were all dead, I
joined
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
the riot, took a woman by the hair.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She cried and fought and writhed
against my groin.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had her in the darkness and the fire.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And that, friends, was my war. I died
that night</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
although I lived to row my way back
home.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I still think of her eyes, the searing
fright</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
that pierced me as I lay upon her
bones.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I was done, her blood poured out
like wine.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I watched the living light flow from
her eyes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I dream her now, a ghost built of my
sin.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She lives. At night, my sleep burns
with her cries.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ten years we waited; one night we made
death</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
that rots my insides still. I hate this earth. </div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-48929851652108073072012-08-12T07:28:00.002-04:002012-08-12T07:28:51.556-04:00Daedalus To His SonThis is the song that we were born to sing:
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we grow old, we lose our precious wings.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>*</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The birds of heaven, boy, aren’t what they seem:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’re tethered to the earth – we think; they dream <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This ground, my child, was fashioned out of stone<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While men, like birds, are made of fragile bone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
Maybe at night,
young men dream of flying.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
I can’t remember:
my dreams are of dying.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Live while you can; it isn’t meant to last.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Get in the car; I’ll teach you to drive fast.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-49003845800130331812012-07-21T10:47:00.003-04:002012-07-21T10:47:28.567-04:00A Doggerel On The Republican Party<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’ll lie, we’ll cheat, we’ll rob you blind<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But if we say we love Jesus then you won’t mind.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-83909748915335707462012-04-26T14:04:00.000-04:002014-04-17T15:40:30.605-04:00Catullus 85; Lesbia: A Lament<br />
<h1>
</h1>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I hate I
love:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Why should I, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you
might ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I don’t know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Still I
feel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> myself doing it<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and am
crucified</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris.</span></i><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.</span></span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-51100644897194607032012-04-10T20:11:00.000-04:002012-04-10T20:11:40.779-04:00Catullus 5: Lesbia's Kisses<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Let’s live, my Lesbia, and let’s make love</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
And at a penny and
no more for us<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Let’s value all
the stories of censorious<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Old men. The sun
can set and it can rise again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
But when our one
brief light at last descends,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
We’ll sleep away a
night that never ends.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
So give me a
thousand kisses, then a hundred more.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Another thousand,
then a second hundred, then<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
A thousand and a
hundred like you did before<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
And when we've
reached ten thousand kisses, then<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
We’ll just reshuffle and unnumber every one of them<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
So that we’ll know
the evil minded can't be envious<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
That there could
be so many kisses for the two of us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%;">
<i><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 150%;">Vivamus mea Lesbia, atque amemus,</span></i><i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br />
rumoresque senum severiorum<br />
omnes unius aestimemus assis!<br />
soles occidere et redire possunt:<br />
nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux,<br />
nox est perpetua una dormienda.<br />
da mi basia mille, deinde centum,<br />
dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,<br />
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.<br />
dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,<br />
conturbābimus illa, ne sciāmus,<br />
aut ne quis malus invidere possit,<br />
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.</span> </i><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-32089054022130713552012-04-10T20:06:00.001-04:002012-04-10T20:21:11.249-04:00The Bake Off<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you think about cremation's dusty
physics</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
and all of what remains after the burn,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
it doesn't take savants or cryptic
mystics</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
to know there's more than daddy in the
urn.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The process, after all, is quite
industrial</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You're not first in the oven or the
last</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
it therefore stands to reason that we
must be all</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
confused to some degree after the
blast.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And in the end, you know, it's rather
fitting –</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
a certain levelling, a kind of fate –</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
that, what remains of us should be,
unwitting,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
swept up into some vast amalgamate.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And thus hope lives
within our roasted bones</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
We die; we're
intermixed; we're not alone.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-51568542761051157182012-03-13T05:22:00.003-04:002012-04-10T20:14:28.555-04:00Catullus 3: Death of Lesbia's Sparrow<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: always;">
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #012944;">O Venuses and Cupids weep and mourn</span><span style="color: #012944;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">And all you beautiful people of this world:</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">My girlfriend’s
precious sparrow is no more.</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">The songbird who was
once this girl's delight,</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Alive, more precious
to her than her eyes</span><span style="background: white;">,</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">It was her honey and I swear it knew her</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">better than some girl-child knows her mother.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">How it would chirp and only sing to her</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">and it would hop, now here, now to some other</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">perch but always stayed within her lap.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Still now it goes along the shadowed road</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">From which they say that nothing can come back.</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">So damn you straight
to hell, you hellish shadow,</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Now you have snatched from me this<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>lovely<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>bird,</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">You whose teeth grind beauty down to sorrow.</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Poor little sparrow!
So low a thing to do!</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">For<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="background: white;">by
your hand the sad eyes of my dear</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Swell up with weeping and are red with tears.</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 150%;">Lugete,
O Veneres Cupidinesque,<br />
et quantum est hominum venustiorum:<br />
passer mortuus est meae puellae,<br />
passer, deliciae meae puellae,<br />
quem plus illa oculis suis amabat.<br />
nam mellitus erat suamque norat<br />
ipsam tam bene quam puella matrem,<br />
nec sese a gremio illius movebat,<br />
sed circumsiliens modo huc modo illuc<br />
ad solam dominam usque pipiabat.<br />
qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum<br />
illuc, unde negant redire quemquam.<br />
at vobis male sit, malae tenebrae<br />
Orci, quae omnia bella devoratis:<br />
tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis<br />
o factum male! o miselle passer!<br />
tua nunc opera meae puellae<br />
flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-6492522856860892572012-03-08T06:30:00.001-05:002012-03-08T07:21:20.474-05:00Sijo: Early March<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Crusted snow on garage rooftops not yet melted: white on
grey<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the yard behind my house, brown grasses snaking through<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another year older, my face warm in morning sun.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-50416345296218330882012-02-21T00:35:00.003-05:002012-02-21T00:37:47.059-05:00Yoga PoemLi Po, my oldest master<br />
I cannot<br />
follow you up this mountain<br />
is too steep. I sit instead<br />
warm sun, parched grass<br />
rustles like dried crumpled<br />
parchment underneath my ass<br />
& watch your ancient<br />
buttocks disappear <br />
cane supported you are<br />
after all three thousand<br />
or so years old <br />
up over the next ridge<br />
until you are gone <br />
as clouds or smoke still<br />
your voice singing:<br />
flite of squawking migratory<br />
birds coming or going, you sing<br />
invisible, squinting <br />
I imagine to the sky <br />
beneath your hat<br />
to see the same birds.<br />
I sit I listen You: <br />
it does not matter only <br />
the movement matters<br />
if you move you are alive<br />
until you stop.<br />
<br />
Today, I left the class <br />
after the seventh pose<br />
& sat in the cool lobby<br />
sucking water <br />
with its posters of impossible<br />
postures trying to calm<br />
my frantic paper<br />
old man heart<br />
gushed sweat.<br />
<br />
Li Po, I thought, come back<br />
bring me your cane<br />
and quill & tonight<br />
I will go home & write a poem<br />
about forgiveness & <br />
tomorrow maybe we will climb together<br />
the mountain, maybe higher,<br />
maybe not.<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-58220457716684143502012-02-20T07:42:00.000-05:002012-02-23T21:44:50.049-05:00Catullus 2: The Sparrow<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sparrow of my sweet, delicious girl<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">with whom she loves to play, to hold soft furled<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">between her breasts, to tease so that it pecks<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">against
her outstretched finger with its beak, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">it pleases my darling girl, I think, when she<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">is weighed down by god knows what miseries<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">to play with you as solace for her sweet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">sadnesses and so to calm loves heat;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I’d also love to hold you, as she does<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">and, as she does, to lighten my heart’s care</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
*<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is as sweet to me as people tell</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About the golden fruit that in the song</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Caused the girdle of the nimble girl</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To loosen that had cinched her waist too long</span><br />
<b><b><b><b><b><b><b><b><b><b><b><b><b><b><br /></b></b></b></b></b></b></b></b></b></b></b></b></b></b><br />
<i>Passer, deliciae meae puellae,<br />
quicum ludere, quem in sinu tenere,<br />
cui primum digitum dare appetenti<br />
et acris solet incitare morsus,<br />
cum desiderio meo nitenti<br />
carum nescio quid lubet iocari<br />
et solaciolum sui doloris,<br />
credo ut tum gravis acquiescat ardor:<br />
tecum ludere sicut ipsa possem<br />
et tristis animi levare curas!<br />
*<br />
Tam gratum est mihi quam ferunt puellae<br />
pernici aureolum fuisse malum,<br />
quod zonam soluit diu ligatam<br />
<br />
</i><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-56409590341509923902012-02-20T07:01:00.003-05:002012-02-23T18:21:41.568-05:00Catullus 107: Lesbia ReturnsIf what you hope for but don’t truly dare <br />
Expect to happen, happens, it’s a pure<br />
Delight. Just so, it’s a delight to me<br />
like gold but better, Lesbia, my sweet.<br />
I wanted you, I had no hope and yet you’re here.<br />
You’ve brought yourself back home to me, my dear.<br />
O light most bright, O air so sharp and clear!<br />
What man could claim to be a happier man <br />
Or wish for more than I hold in my hand?<br /><br />
<i>Si quicquam cupido optantique optigit umquam<br />
insperanti, hoc est gratum animo proprie.<br />
Quare hoc est gratum nobis quoque carius auro<br />
quod te restituis, Lesbia, mi cupido.<br />
Restituis cupido atque insperanti, ipsa refers te<br />
nobis. O lucem candidiore nota!<br />
Quis me uno vivit felicior aut magis hac est<br />
optandus vita dicere quis poterit?<br />
<br />
</i><div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-20345089732202200602011-06-19T04:10:00.004-04:002012-06-12T18:07:32.897-04:00Three Nights1.<br />
We got the old Irishman drunk<br />
at a hotel in Galway<br />
& on the way home<br />
stopped in the treeless bog <br />
&got him to lie on the roof of his car<br />
to watch the stars wheeling, my wife & I.<br />
When car lights appeared on the road<br />
he scrambled down & hid<br />
lest someone see him & think him a fool<br />
Still later we got him to sing us old love songs<br />
& tell us the story of how electricity <br />
came to the village in 1959<br />
& the street lights washed out the stars.<br />
<br />
2.<br />
In Jackson New Hampshire<br />
we drove to the top of a hill<br />
above the wash of the street lamps<br />
& held our breath in the winter presence<br />
of stars & galaxies & the long dish edge<br />
of the milky way looking inward. <br />
A night could almost make you believe in God<br />
but love, for cold & for sure, that was<br />
another thing that was real as rocks & the stars looked down<br />
on us indifferent.<br />
<br />
3.<br />
2:00 AM. My eyes won't close. The drugs<br />
poor soldiers, won't do<br />
their duty. Outside: stars hiding<br />
in a low cloud scudded sky.<br />
I want to believe in god<br />
or love or serendipity<br />
or that our lives are more than disappointment<br />
but the city erases all but the most persistent<br />
stars & the long spill of the milky way<br />
is nowhere to be seen<br />
The Irishman is dead<br />
my wife asleep upstairs <br />
& it has been years since Jackson<br />
I stand outside in my underwear old coot<br />
my feet touch cool grass<br />
not yet dewy with birdsong<br />
& below that the density<br />
of the starless & utterly<br />
welcoming earth.<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-72402225621710519752011-06-12T16:13:00.004-04:002012-06-12T18:07:32.915-04:00LamentThere is a dearth of comments on my blog<br />
All poetry is pissing up a rope<br />
I wonder how I got it all so wrong<br />
And how to go on living without hope?<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-66590099791186996232011-06-12T09:52:00.003-04:002012-06-12T18:07:32.913-04:00Harpy, 1974At 4:00 A.M<br />
A razor petaled flower<br />
bloomed in your chest<br />
<br />
Thinking, unthinking<br />
did you stumbledown<br />
the curving stairway<br />
<br />
your mother asleep<br />
in the front parlor room<br />
oblivious, dreaming<br />
<br />
Did you think <br />
I’m only sixty its not time yet<br />
or that the liquor got me<br />
<br />
after all these years<br />
Were you surprised to find<br />
the keys in the ignition<br />
<br />
angel placed<br />
or oblivion at the end of the street<br />
your car jumping the curb<br />
<br />
to idle all night<br />
against the ball field backstop<br />
engine purring against death<br />
<br />
until the cops found you<br />
not you in the warm summer<br />
haziness of dawn?<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-8624014608906884212011-06-05T20:30:00.002-04:002012-06-12T18:07:32.916-04:00MauraWhen I realized<br />
we would never make love again<br />
it was like looking<br />
at all the broken windows in New York.<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-61244144375983580502011-06-05T08:03:00.001-04:002011-06-05T08:05:42.625-04:00Morning PoemSleep-starved I am ready to lie down<br />
again and die. I wander<br />
the house in a state of wasted<br />
breath & I''m worth more dead<br />
than alive Insurance is a wonderful thing<br />
Outside the sun flares off rooftops<br />
new leaves dance new shadows<br />
on trees in slow summer sunrise <br />
In another room<br />
My wife brews coffee<br />
Maybe that'll wake me up<br />
There's still. Not yet. Not yet.<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-21315569409112056502011-05-29T14:48:00.000-04:002011-05-29T14:48:14.971-04:00Haiku 1976Subway train, midnight<br />
Drunks junkies, New York's rejects<br />
And among therm, I.<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-15242928048364297882011-05-06T06:28:00.004-04:002012-06-12T18:07:32.896-04:00Vilanelle for a Dead FatherI dreamed of you again last night<br />
sitting in your rage, old man<br />
drunk and spoiling for a fight<br />
<br />
gripping the bottle as if it might<br />
escape the caging of your hand.<br />
I dreamed of you again last night.<br />
<br />
I'm fifty seven as I sit and write<br />
these words, remembering how I ran<br />
drunk and spoiling for a fight<br />
<br />
away from you Alright., Alright.<br />
I'm running still. Away. Unmanned,<br />
I dreamed of you again at night<br />
<br />
Sitting in the bar. Dim light<br />
bathed you in amber, angry, damned<br />
drunk and spoiling for a fight<br />
<br />
and in this dream no hope, no flight<br />
was possible. We stood. We stand.<br />
I dreamed of you again tonight<br />
drunk and spoiling for a fight.<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134311911860857098.post-20654630084491588452011-05-01T08:47:00.002-04:002011-05-01T10:20:53.637-04:00Some PoemsNot offered the job<br />
I lay on my office floor<br />
and slept two hours a day<br />
amid boxes destined for storage<br />
dreamless as cardboard.<br />
<br />
*<br />
The girl who helps my filing<br />
wore a loose fitting jersey<br />
collar hacked away<br />
I admired her mocha brown <br />
tits from a distance<br />
built of age, reticence, fear<br />
contented myself to resign her breasts<br />
to metaphor of the death <br />
of the pale white lynching<br />
American dream. <br />
<br />
*<br />
I drop my son off at the middle school basketball courts<br />
He saunters to a car filled with teenagers<br />
drives off toward some fueled future<br />
while I return to eternal questions:<br />
Why does my porch sag<br />
why can't they invent impermeable paint<br />
wallpaper adhesive as the soul?<br />
And why is there never sufficient fecund money?<br />
I trail his car until it turns off <br />
to the next town over<br />
& middle age becomes the road<br />
where there are no turnoffs<br />
no second chances.<br />
Drive home.<br />
<br />
*<br />
O god of no do-overs, WHY?<br />
& strange that WHY and JAHWH<br />
are so closely intertwined<br />
like vines of doubt<br />
& why can't I ask these questions<br />
face to ineffable face<br />
What am I afraid of?<br />
<br />
<br />
*<br />
Thomas Merton called to god<br />
by a fan with faulty wiring in Tibet.<br />
If god is present in faulty wiring<br />
then my house is a cathedral<br />
where the toaster oven and the microwave<br />
won't run at the same time<br />
without tripping some holy fuse<br />
& god says I am here<br />
among the confusion<br />
& the killing sparks.<br />
<br />
*<br />
On overnight TV mesothliama<br />
ads. You too could be entitled to <br />
compensation. In America death<br />
is money & cancer an endless<br />
game show. The winners dance<br />
their skeleton dance and howl<br />
triumph over the rest of us<br />
poor losers.<br />
<br />
*<br />
At 4:00 AM<br />
filled with I-don't-give-a-shit<br />
drugs, I write poetry<br />
which brings no<br />
money. Meanwhile<br />
my kids are going to college<br />
my sisters are rich<br />
The early spring sunlight on treetops<br />
is some irreproducible<br />
amalgam of green and yellow<br />
momentary hope.<br />
Such shit. There is no god<br />
where there is no money<br />
only a backyard giving in<br />
to weeds, my neighbors treetops<br />
glimpsed golden above the garage.<br />
The drugs are doing their work.<br />
Te deum.<br />
<br />
*<br />
The kids are asleep.<br />
The wife, cold ridden, is comatose.<br />
Sunrise. Maybe the papers are here.<br />
Small hope, small promises:<br />
maybe the Red Sox won.<br />
Amen.<div class="blogger-post-footer">From the Eamonn Lorigan Poetry Project</div>Eamonn Loriganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17151031108305269377noreply@blogger.com0