lá sona ú patrick ar a thabhairt duit !

The most important things to do in the world are to get something to eat, something to drink and somebody to love you.

~ Brendan Behan

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

 

whisky

if you forget me

rings

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

 

~  Pablo Neruda

 

TO ALL THE NEW POETS OF A YOUNG CENTURY

NEWPOETSOFANEWCENTURY.jpg

 

 

So

 

You want to be a poet?

 

Then stand in line

 

Because just like every other damn poet

That ever came before you

You’ll have to write

 

And Twitter, Tumblr, Fumblr

Whatever, will never save

Your sorry ass

 

And the Pushcart Prize?

They won’t reward you

For writing a Facebook

Status that’s poetic

 

And just like

Emily, no one no

Publisher will ever

Come knocking

At your door

Looking for your poems

 

So listen;

 

Because there is no new

Jack Kerouac, no new Bukowski

And no new Poe

 

And Shakespeare?

 

He threw down his pencil

A longtime ago after Marlowe

Bought the farm

 

So just like all of the most

Famous poets of old expect

No compliments, no fortune

And no dough and learn how

To live on noodles

 

And believe me

When I say that

When you tell Mom & Dad

That you want to be

A poet someday?

 

Don’t expect them to

Embrace you or let you

Ever move back home again

 

Because remember

 

That this is the life that you chose

And if you ever finally find

Finally write that one piece

That one amazing epiphany

That says it all and that says

Everything and that has the

Power to knock the world

On its ass?

 

Then maybe one day

You’ll be able to look

In the mirror and say

 

It was all worth it.

_____________

R.M. ENGELHARDT 

“there is a loneliness in this world so great”

buk2

“there is a loneliness in this world so great

that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock.

people so tired
mutilated
either by love or no love.

people just are not good to each other
one on one.

the rich are not good to the rich
the poor are not good to the poor.

we are afraid.

our educational system tells us
that we can all be
big-ass winners.

it hasn’t told us
about the gutters
or the suicides.

or the terror of one person
aching in one place
alone

untouched
unspoken to

watering a plant.”

~  Charles Bukowski, Love is a Dog from Hell

LIT 101

Writers?

We have to write. If we don’t our brains explode

and the poetry, words and ideas go all over.

We have to drink for inspiration. And we have to smoke at least a pack a day.

Why?

Because it’s the law. That’s why.

And ? We must drink large amounts of coffee

everyday just to stay awake.

I didn’t make these rules.

I blame Hemingway.

But in the end it’s only the words that matter

That’s all

~ R.M.

LIT 101
LIT 101