Is fada uaim do chroí is do ghrá,
Is fada uaim do shúile áille;
Cé gur iontach é an radharc os mo chomhair anois,
B’fhearr liom thú a bheith liom
Is annamh, ach álainn é an grá
Is ní thuigfear é go deo
Ach ní bac é sin ar na mothúcháin seo
Mar ní gá iad a thuiscint.
Tá do ghriangraf agamsa ar mo ghuthán
Is ní féidir ach breathnú air
Ní féidir an gáire seo a bhaineadh de m’aghaidh
Mar is tusa an t-aon chúis dó.
Baile na nGall, Corca Dhuibhne; 16 Márta 2008
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Filíocht de chuid Scott De Buitléir
Fáilte
L'amour est à ceux qui y pensent.
- Marcel Achard
Il y a les poètes qui sentent et les poètes qui expriment ; les premiers sont les plus heureux.
- Honoré de Balzac
Það besta sem guð hefur skapað er nýr dagur.
(Is é an rud is fearr a rinne Dia ná lá nua a chruthú.)
- Sigur Rós
- Marcel Achard
Il y a les poètes qui sentent et les poètes qui expriment ; les premiers sont les plus heureux.
- Honoré de Balzac
Það besta sem guð hefur skapað er nýr dagur.
(Is é an rud is fearr a rinne Dia ná lá nua a chruthú.)
- Sigur Rós
Faoin bhFile
- Scott De Buitléir
- This Blogger profile is no longer active, but online as an active for my older writings.
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6 trácht:
Revealing your sole
I ate you
I looked at you,
you lay in the bed and I thought
that you were the ray I ate in the chipper
and I thought that we could become a stew
together us
an irish stew
although youy always said coddle was
nicer than cuddling
I sprayed you with gravy and mustard
and lay upon the edge of of your thrusting throbbing
spoon
you were my dessert
a big sloppy trifle
and we ate cream with the angels
who sang Hosana as we gently floated through the netherly heavens
which are Kathmandu
hyacinth.
i slid my hand up the gutter of your mind, opened the catflap of prosperity and waited..
wafting and wefting the theft of an elephants teeth were no matter no fault
fry me delight me
I am dead
a knockkneed grandmother stood at theend of the landway, with a Shetland sheepdog
Pegeeen Mike arose and spoke to Pluto whilst Jesus took off his clothes and we ate caviar
with envy and lust
tis me Pegeen Mike
wringing out the suds from ,my old thermal vest
twas a worm that got the book and there was a man who became a mouse...tis a tree are we still together
quoi??? qui?
t'es la...mon chou-fleur
the ponderous reality of ther grand national rushed past , a haze of equine amorality
the lord spoke and the sky fell and the angels philosophised together
Get thee to a nunnery
thee to a book
its reality within Georgian interpreters
salut...c'est ca...salut!!!!!
An Buinneach buí
is aisling tú
fear gorm gan féasóg gan cara
an bhfuil tú tobar a storehouse
táim abhann
taim sea slán
bean gan fobhríste, gan aon bháirneach uirthi, gan aon mhaide rámha lena stiúradh
sea táim ag bun na farraige móire fararaige cháite
seamhan sponcúil ag sileadh ó do bheola blasta
beirim tú
blasaim tú
tá tú ionam arís
ionga móra caidheacha na maighdine, lán de mhúisc na sráide, sráid na brísdeoige, sráid collaíochta, sráid na n-asal
Is asal thú, marcaím ort mar a dhéanfá le seanphony ar thrá an dóilín
Haiku
to be layed
to long
in you
out of you
out of luck
seaspray me now
Hungarian vibrations
leather trousers, require talcum powder, i powder my nose with the salt of your tears
crybaby cry, i cannot soothe you with my teat of knowledge.
cabbages grow in the allotment of my lovers backbone, aloft on a flagpole, his leathery heart flaps softly.
thous tested my testicles
thou soothed my breats
thou gave me flagrant love and the lord
laughed and giggled as we lolled naked in the schollhouse sheepsjhearing section
were you a cabbage that day or was i alone
is your heart right or was it the night
we are butchers, cut me, make me into a t-bone steak
we shalll fry on the barby together
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