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Tag: Irish verse forms

In Between: séadna

Perhaps there is no in between;
it’s either pitch black or light.
You inch forward or slip backwards,
fight each turn of day to night

imagining in fierce battle
you will lose your coward’s mask.
Believing in some great reward,
you ask your sword to hold fast.

There is no time for fool questions,
no need to see shades of gray.
Forget that distracting tension;
let play your guns, heroes say.

Perhaps there isn’t a middle
ground where opposing sides meet;
only space between the goalposts,
where cheats and ghosts find good seats.

18 MAY 2017

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If Seeking: rionnard tri-nard

If you would seek wisdom,
the walls of your prison
must be made a prism.
To purify vision,

let light begin creeping
like mice, softly sneaking,
almost still half sleeping –
if wisdom you’re seeking.

03 MAY 2017

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Day Flight: rannaigheacht mhor

Each new day is so fleeting:
like a busy bee flitting
between its sweet hits, floating,
never slowing nor quitting.

Life’s made of days flying:
sighed hellos and then goings.
Through each room we go gliding:
near colliding, then dying.

19 APR 2017

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The Wild Wind: droighneach

Believe me: there is nothing evident
found in the wild wind’s sad apology
that echoes the swift, mad accident
of an empirical chronology.

The sound careens off the walls and multiplies,
pale murmurs slipping along an endless cavity
where caught words glow and briefly shine, like fireflies,
then gently fade in obscurity.

02 MAR 2017

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Dawn Patrol: deibhidhe

Soon the sound that breaks the day
comes to chase our sleep away;
and the darkest dreams night grew
blink from black into lighter blue.

The world, barely recognized
through half-open, hazy eyes,
wakes slow with us, its warm glow
buried below the pillows.

Arise again and don your shield,
the ancient weapons you wield
against the dumb drones that come
reeking of rum and humdrum.

Be conscious now! You must choose.
Do not linger, or you lose
this moment’s span; if you can
still stand, battle is at hand.

Until the sound that stills the day
comes quietly to end the fray,
fight on fearless, king or pawn,
at every dawn, until you’re gone.

23 FEB 2017

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Battle Positions: casbairdne

Assume battle positions:
each gun states its conditions
for damning to perdition
those it slams with derision.

The war horns sound, confounding
the loud screams, so dumbfounding,
as drums and jackboots pounding
start death’s song wild resounding.

The chaos, so deceiving!
What valorous achieving
can come from man’s believing
that battle’s won by grieving.

1 FEB 2017

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