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Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)

DigiTrad:
DECK OF CARDS
JIM
RINDERCELLA
STORY OF PETEY, THE SNAKE
THE PEE LITTLE THRIGS


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PennyBlack 16 Dec 04 - 04:59 AM
Dave Hanson 16 Dec 04 - 05:22 AM
Schantieman 16 Dec 04 - 06:07 AM
Flash Company 16 Dec 04 - 07:20 AM
Fiolar 16 Dec 04 - 09:30 AM
GUEST,fidjit 16 Dec 04 - 09:38 AM
Big Tim 16 Dec 04 - 09:51 AM
Joe Offer 16 Dec 04 - 12:42 PM
MartinRyan 16 Dec 04 - 01:48 PM
MartinRyan 16 Dec 04 - 01:55 PM
Nigel Parsons 16 Dec 04 - 01:58 PM
PennyBlack 17 Dec 04 - 05:27 AM
John MacKenzie 17 Dec 04 - 08:30 AM
PennyBlack 17 Dec 04 - 07:35 PM
Fidjit 18 Dec 04 - 03:14 PM
Georgiansilver 18 Dec 04 - 03:22 PM
John MacKenzie 18 Dec 04 - 03:37 PM
Ernest 19 Dec 04 - 06:52 AM
PennyBlack 19 Dec 04 - 07:25 AM
katlaughing 19 Dec 04 - 07:35 AM
PennyBlack 19 Dec 04 - 07:39 AM
Frank Maher 19 Dec 04 - 11:50 AM
Frank Maher 19 Dec 04 - 02:14 PM
Fidjit 20 Dec 04 - 03:22 PM
Susanne (skw) 22 Dec 04 - 06:01 PM
GUEST,patmike 22 Dec 04 - 06:41 PM
Jim Dixon 22 Dec 04 - 08:38 PM
Barbara 23 Dec 04 - 02:38 AM
Barbara 23 Dec 04 - 02:42 AM
GUEST,Tickled pink 21 Jan 10 - 02:46 PM
GUEST 10 Aug 10 - 04:29 AM
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Subject: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: PennyBlack
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 04:59 AM

The new Irish CD is in the making, but.. we usually include a poem/monologue on our CDs. As yet we haven't got one that's fun/funny but not "derogatory" of the Irish.

any suggestions?


If it's one you've written; do you give permission for us to record it with acknowledgements? (and a free copy of the CD)


cheers

PB


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: Dave Hanson
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 05:22 AM

There is a very funny monologue that Ronny Drew used to do, about the visit if Queen Victoria to Ireland called 'Sez She ' and Packie Byrne used to do one called ' Thank You Mam Said Dan '

eric


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: Schantieman
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 06:07 AM

er, no.

But I do know two Irish jokes which don't depend on their supposed lack of intelligence.

1. Why are the Irish the richest people in the world?


Answer later!


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Subject: Lyr Add: PAT'S LEATHER BREECHES
From: Flash Company
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 07:20 AM

I've never heard this sung, though believe it has a tune, words collected from John Maguire by Robin Morton, It would probably work as a recitation, worth trying.

At the sign of the Bell on the road to Clonmel,
Pat Haggerty kept a fine cabin,
He sold whisky and bread and kept lodgers besides,
He was liked in the country he lived in.
Now Pat and his wife, sure they struggled through life
On weekdays he mended the ditches,
On a Sunday he dressed in a suit of the best
But his pride was his old leather britches

Sure but last winter's snow brought the vittles so low,
Poor Paddy was ate out completely
With the snow coming down he could not get to yown
And the hunger it bothered him greatly
One night as he lay a-dreaming away
About ghosts, fairies, spirits and witches
He heard an uproar just outside his door
And he jumped up to pull on his britches

Said Barry McGurk with a voice like a Turk.
'Sure Paddy, now get us some eating,
And Big Andy Moore said 'We'll break in the door,
Sure, this isn't the night to be waiting
The word was scarce spoke when the door it was broke,
And they crowded round paddy like leeches,
They swore by the mob if they didn't get grub
They would eat him clean out of his britches

Poor Paddy in dread went back to his bed
Aand got Julie, his own darling wife out,
And they quickly agreed they must fix up a feed,
So he went down and got a big knife out,
He cut off the waist of his britches,
He ripped out the buttons and stitches,
He cut them in stripes in the way you do tripes,
And he boiled them his old leather britches

Oh when they were stewed, on the dishes were strewed
The boys all roared out 'God be thankit!'
But Haggerty's wife was in fear for her life
And decided t'was high time to shank it.
When you saw how they smiled, sure they thought he had boied
Some mutton or beef of the richest
But little they knowed it was old leather brogue
That was made out of Paddy's old britches

As they dined on the stuff, says Darby 'It's tough'
And says Andy 'You're no judge of mutton',
But Barry McGurk on the point of his fork
He held up a ruddy great button
Says Paddy 'Whats that? Sure I thought it was fat'
But Barry he jumps up and screeches
'By the powers above, I was trying to shove
All me teeth through the fly of his britches!'

They all flew at Pat, but he cut out of that
Pretty quick as he saw them all rising,
Said Barry 'Make haste and go for the priest,
For by Holy St Patrick I'm poisoned'
As revenge for the joke, they stayed till they'd broke
All the chairs, tables, glasses and dishes,
And from that very night they will put out your light
If you talk about old leather britches!

FC


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: Fiolar
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 09:30 AM

Why not try "The Spoons Murder" by Con Fada O Drisceoil. The words can be found on Mudcat.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: GUEST,fidjit
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 09:38 AM

try the old and ancient condom. In here somewhere. Life of Brian Baru


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: Big Tim
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 09:51 AM

A few good ones in a book called "The Irish Reciter", edited by Niall Toibin, 1986.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: Joe Offer
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 12:42 PM

Flash Company, do you have any more information about the piece you posted? Got a title? Is it in a printed or recorded source? Where'd you get it from? You'll find other versions in this thread.
-Joe Offer-


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: MartinRyan
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 01:48 PM

Joe

From FC's intro, that set appears to be from Morton's book on the singer John Magure, entitled, if I recall correctly, "God Send Sunday". Lovely book - which you would enjoy!

Regards


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: MartinRyan
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 01:55 PM

In fact the full title of the book is "Come day, go day, God send Sunday" and a subtitle! just checked. Don't have my copy to hand.

Regards

p.s
(i) There was a lovely LP/tape to accompany the text.
(ii) I might have a spare copy of the book...


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: Nigel Parsons
Date: 16 Dec 04 - 01:58 PM

Schantieman:

Presumably because their capital is always Dublin!

Nigel


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: PennyBlack
Date: 17 Dec 04 - 05:27 AM

Nigel - you watch too much TV!

Now a Funny Poem about Dublin would be a good link to us here in Blackpool wouldn't it?

Surprised to two "Cities" weren't twinned

PB


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish Comic Poem
From: John MacKenzie
Date: 17 Dec 04 - 08:30 AM

There is a Dublin about 12 miles away from here in the slightly snowy highlands of Scotland, same linguistic root I presume.
Dubh linn.
Giok


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: PennyBlack
Date: 17 Dec 04 - 07:35 PM

the meaning of "Dublin"--dubh linn, "the dark pool," (which filled twice a day with the tide) - or maybe Black Pool?


PB

But what about some poems?


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: Fidjit
Date: 18 Dec 04 - 03:14 PM

Found it "The ancient and old Irish condom" It's the hairy side outside tonight!


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 18 Dec 04 - 03:22 PM

There is a Folk song called "The sick note" which started life as a poem and can be found on Cantaria:-
       http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lists/alpha.html

Just copy and paste to go there. Incidentally, it is down the right side under "S" on that Alphabetical list.
Best wishes, Mike.


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: John MacKenzie
Date: 18 Dec 04 - 03:37 PM

Twas an ancient ould Irish French letter
About so long and 6 inches wide
Had a little gold tag on the end sir
With his name and his stud fee inscibed.

not too sure about those words

My mind it went back through the ages
And I pictured that hairy old celt
With his da de da da de da da da
And his wife lying there in her pelt

de da de da da de dad de da
de da de da da de dad de da
You've had your own way long enough dear
It's the hairy side outside tonight.


Memeory fails me, but I can picture Murph singing it as I type, back in the days of the Friday night all nighters at Les Cousins in Greek St Soho.
Giok


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: Ernest
Date: 19 Dec 04 - 06:52 AM

The ancient and old Irish condom works well - I did it on St. Patricks day a couple of years ago!
"The sick note" btw was written by Pat Cooksey - he`s sometimes here. One of the threads has a link to his website, so you can send him an e-mail to ask...
Regards
Ernest


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Subject: Lyr Add: THE ANCIENT AND OLD IRISH CONDOM
From: PennyBlack
Date: 19 Dec 04 - 07:25 AM

gotit!
The Ancient and Old Irish Condom

    (Tune: "Rosin the Beau")

I was up to me arse in the muck, Sir,
With a peat contract down in the bog
When me shovel it struck something hard, Sir,
That I thought was a rock or a log

'Twas a box of the finest old oak, Sir,
'Twas a foot long, and four inches wide
And not giving a damn for the Fairies
I just took a quick look inside

Now I opened the lid of this box, Sir,
And I swear that my story is true
T'was an ancient and old Irish condom
A relic of Brian Boru

'Twas an ancient and old Irish condom
'Twas a foot long, and made of elk hide,
With a little gold tag on it's end, Sir,
With his name, rank, and stud fee inscribed

Now, I cast me mind back thru the ages
To the days of that horny old Celt
With his wife lyin' by on the bed, Sir,
As he stood by the fire in his pelt

And I thought that I heard Brian whisper
As he stood in the fire's rosy light
"Well, you've had yer own way long enough, dear...
'Tis the hairy side outside, tonight."


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Subject: Lyr Add: IRISH ASTRONOMY (Charles G. Halpine)
From: katlaughing
Date: 19 Dec 04 - 07:35 AM

That one is hilarious!

Here's one I posted a year or so ago:

Found the following in an old book of my aunt's called the National Encylopedia of Business and Social Forms, etc. copyright 1884 by J.R. Jones. It has an extensive collection of "Choice Selections From The Best Authors", including this one...

IRISH ASTRONOMY
by Charles G. Halpine

A veritable myth, touching the constellation of O'Ryan, ignorantly and falsely spelled Orion.

O'Ryan was a man of might
Whin Ireland was a nation,
But poachin' was his heart's delight
And constant occupation.
He had an ould militia gun,
And sartin sure his aim was;
He gave the keepers many a run,
And wouldn't mind the game laws.

St. Pathrick wanst was passin' by
O'Ryan's little houldin',
And as the saint felt wake and dhry,
He thought he'd enther bould in;
"O'Ryan," says the saint, "avick!
To praich at Thurles I'm goin':
So let me have a rasher, quick,
And a dhrop of Innishowen."

"No rasher will I cook for you
While betther is to spare, sir;
But here's a jug of mountain dew,
And there's a rattlin' hare, sir."
St. Pathrick he looked mighty sweet
And says he, "Good luck attind you,
And when you're in your windin' sheet
It's up to heaven I'll sind you."

O'Ryan gave his pipe a whiff--
'Them tidin's is thransportin',
But may I ax your saintship if
There's any kind of sportin'?"
St. Patrhick said, "A Lion's there,
Two Bears, a Bull, and Cancer"--
"Bedad," says Mick, "the huntin's rare,
St. Pathrick, I'm your man, sir!"

So, to conclude my song aright,
For fear I'd tire your patience,
You'll see O'Ryan any night
Amid the constellations.
And Venus follows in his track,
Till Mars grows jealous raally,
But faith, he fears the Irish knack
Of handling his shillaly.


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: PennyBlack
Date: 19 Dec 04 - 07:39 AM

The spoons murder looks good for a future CD but not Irish enough..


PB


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Subject: Lyr Add: HOW TO MAKE AN IRISH STEW (O'Meachair)
From: Frank Maher
Date: 19 Dec 04 - 11:50 AM

HOW TO MAKE AN IRISH STEW
By
Cornelius Phroinsias O'Meachair

Sure Ive sung ye many a song in my time,
But now ye want something new;
So Im after giving a bit of a rhyme,
Concerning an Irish stew.

For Ive got the original auld receipt,
For cooking to rights, that's the same;
And if ye can only get hold of the meat,
If ye spoil it, 'tis yerself that's to blame.

CHORUS: So let me give you this bit of advice-
Ye can very soon prove it's true-
That nothing in life is half so nice-
As a savoury Irish stew.

In choosing your meat, don't cut it too fat,
Nor by any means overly lean,
For the kind of mutton that pleases Pat
Is a sort of betwixt and between.

Your praities should be of the mealy sort,
And your onions sound and sweet,
And it's peel 'em & wash 'em, & slice 'em, yez ought,
And pop 'em right in with the meat.

Then pepper, & salt, and season to taste-
OCH! The water, I almost forgot-
Pour in just enough-if ye swamp it the least,
By jabers, ye'll spoil the lot.

Then yez can sit down and watch the pot boil,
Till the meats done thoroughly through;
And you'll soon be rewarded for all your toil,
By a savoury Irish stew.

Or if you wish, you can substitute fish,
That's entirely . . . . . up to you!


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Subject: Lyr Add: HOW PADDY STOLE THE ROPE (Albert/Egerton)
From: Frank Maher
Date: 19 Dec 04 - 02:14 PM

From the sheet music at the Library of Congress:


HOW PADDY STOLE THE ROPE
Words by Fred Albert; music by Frank Egerton
New York: Willis Woodward & Co., ©1885.

1. There was once two Irish laboring men, to America came over,
And they tramped about in search of work from New York town to Dover.
Said Pat to Mick, "I'm tired of this; we're both left in the lurch,
And if we don't get work, bedad! I'll go and rob a church!"
"What! Rob a church!" said Mick to Pat. "How could you be so vile?
Sure something bad will happen you when in the sacred Pile;
But if you do, I'll go with you; we'll get safe out, I hope."
So listen, and I'll tell ye true, how Paddy stole the rope:

2. They tramped about through mud and mire the place they wanted finding.
They got inside a country church, which nobody was minding.
They scraped together all they could, and then prepared to slope,
When Paddy said: "Hold on now, Mick; what shall we do for rope?
We've got no bag to hold the swag, and ere we go outside,
With something stout and strong, my lad, the bundle must be tied."
Just then he spied the church-bell rope, and swift as antelope,
He scrambled on the belfry high, to go and steal the rope.

3. When Paddy reached the belfry rope, "Be jabers!" said he, "Stop!
To get a piece that's long enough I must climb to the top!"
So like a sailor up he went, and when near the end said he:
"I think the piece that's underneath quite long enough will be."
So, holding by one arm and leg, he pulled his clasp-knife out,
And right above his head and hand he cut the rope so stout.
He quite forgot it held him up; his brain was soft as soap.
Down to the bottom of the church fell Paddy and the rope.

4. Says Mick to Pat, "Come out of that!" as he on the floor lay groaning.
"Is that the way to steal a rope? No wonder now ye're moaning.
I'll show yez how to cut a rope; there, just lend me your knife."
"Yerra, Mick, be careful!" cried out Pat, "or else you'll lose your life!"
Mick bounded up the other rope, and, like an artful thief,
Instead of cutting it above, he cut it underneath.
The piece fell down and he was left to hang up there and mope.
"Bad cess unto the day," said he, "when we came stealing rope."

5. There was Paddy groaning on the floor, while Mick hung up on high.
"Come down," says Pat. "I can't," says Mick, "for if I drop, I'll die."
Their noise soon brought the preacher round, the sexton and police,
But though they set poor Mickey free, the pair got no release.
They took them to the station, where their conduct they now rue,
For if they had no work before, they've plenty now to do;
And for their ingenuity they have a larger scope
Than when they broke into the church and tried to steal the rope.


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: Fidjit
Date: 20 Dec 04 - 03:22 PM

Glad you found the words of the aincient old I rish condom. Hope it works for you.


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: Susanne (skw)
Date: 22 Dec 04 - 06:01 PM

There's also 'The Food-A-Holic' by Crawford Howard, as well as a couple of funny spoken pieces which James Simmons wrote and recorded on his 'Rostrevor Sessions' album in 1987. I'd have to try and work out the lyrics over Christmas should you want them.


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Subject: Lyr Add: WILD DRINKER and THE INVERTED BLACKBIRD
From: GUEST,patmike
Date: 22 Dec 04 - 06:41 PM

You might enjoy one of these.

WILD DRINKER

I've been a wild drinker for many a year,
And I always fall over, on ten pints of beer,
So now, when Im drinking, I sit on the floor,
And I never will risk falling over no more.

CHORUS: And it's no, nay, never, no, nay never, no more,
Will I drink and fall over, no, never, no more.

I went to a pub that I used to frequent,
Despite having sworn that I'd give up for Lent.
I asked for two pints, but the barman said, "Nay,
You'll only fall down like you did yesterday".

I pulled from my pocket five new silver pounds,
And I managed to do it without falling down.
The barman said, "Sir, please choose from this list,
And I'm sorry if just now I thought you were pissed.

I think that I'll stick now to stiff drinks and shorts,
Like whiskey and brandy and Pernods and ports,
Cut down on the volume of all that I drink,
Then at least when I throw up I wont block the sink.

I'll go back to my girlfriend, confess what I've done,
And if she should hit me, I wont turn and run.
I'll promise to give up, but if I should fail,
I'll see you next Friday, for ten pints of ale.

_____________________________________

The second one is:

THE INVERTED BLACKBIRD

As I roved out on a summers morning,
When the autumn leaves they were turning brown,
I looked up in a tree and there I saw a quare thing:
It was a female blackbird hanging upside down.

So I said to this bird, "Now, why are you thus inverted?
In other words, why are you in this manner hung?"
Then up spoke this bird from the pit of her stomach:
"It was a gentleman blackbird that did me wrong.

He accosted me one Sunday morning,
As I flew innocently from East to West.
'Come here, young one', says he to me 'I have something to show you,
I have some bloody fine etchings above in my nest.

So off I flew with him, may God forgive me,
His nest was there forninst the wall,
And in the middle of the nest, there was a great big double bed,
And apart from that bed, there was sweet shag-all.

So I said to this bird 'now where are these famous etchings?
Or could it be they aren't here at all?
'Ha Ha!' says he. 'Now you have it',
With a sneer on his face from Ballinasloe to Youghal.

I pass over the next incident with understandable modesty,
And look at me now, slinging by my legs,
For that dirty divil, he upped and skedaddled,
And he left me here with six fatherless eggs.

So come all ye young female blackbirds, take heed of my warning,
In the blackbird jungle or in the town,
Don't go with any strange macho blackbirds or go to see their etchings,
Or you could end up like me, slinging upside down."


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 22 Dec 04 - 08:38 PM

PB: Interesting that you mentioned you wanted to avoid material that was derogatory to Irish.

Are the Irish sensitive about songs that stereotype them? You wouldn't think so, judging from the reaction (or lack of it) to my thread Lyr Add: Irish songs about balls, wakes, soirees [etc.] I posted the lyrics to dozens of comical songs there, that portray Irish people (or Irish-Americans) getting drunk and fighting at parties. No one complained about the stereotyping, although I specifically invited people to comment on it. Maybe no one was paying attention, or maybe nobody cares. Or maybe the Irish sense of humor appreciates this kind of song. I wish I knew.

You might find something there you can use.


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Subject: Lyr Add: PATRICK'S ARRIVAL (William Maginn)
From: Barbara
Date: 23 Dec 04 - 02:38 AM

For something less antic, choose a reading from James Stephen's Crock of Gold,
And then there's this one:
Blessings,
Barbara

PATRICK'S ARRIVAL

You've heard of St. Denis of France.
He never had much for to brag on.
You've heard of St. George and his lance
Who killed d'old heathenish dragon.
The Saints of the Welshmen and Scot
Are a couple of pitiful pipers
And might just as well go to pot
When compared to the patron of vipers:
St. Patrick of Ireland, my dear.

He sailed to the Emerald Isle
On a lump of pavin' stone mounted.
He beat the steamboat by a mile
Which mighty good sailing was counted.
Says he, "The salt water, I think,
Has made me unmerciful thirsty;
So bring me a flagon to drink
To wash down the mullygrups, burst ye,
Of drink that is fit for a Saint."

He preached then with wonderful force
The ignorant natives a teaching,
With wine washed down each discourse,
For, says he, "I detest your dry preaching."
The people in wonderment struck
At a pastor so pious and civil,
Exclaimed, "We're for you, my old buck,
And we'll heave our blind Gods to the divil,
Who dwells in hot water below."

This finished, our worshipful man
Went to visit an elegant fellow
Whose practise each cool afternoon
Was to get most delightful mellow.
That day with a barrel of beer,
He was drinking away with abandon.
Say's Patrick, "It's grand to be here.
I drank nothing to speak of since landing,
So give me a pull from your pot."

He lifted the pewter in sport.
Believe me, I tell you, it's no fable.
A gallon he drank from the quart
And left it back full on the table.
"A miracle!" everyone cried
And all took a pull on the Stingo.
They were mighty good hands at that trade
And they drank 'til they fell yet, by Jingo.
The pot it still frothed o'er the brim.

Next day said the host, "It's a fast,
And I've nothing to eat but cold mutton.
On Fridays who'd make such repast
Except an unmerciful glutton?"
Said Pat, "Stop this nonsense, I beg.
What you tell me is nothing but gammon."
When the host brought down the lamb's leg,
Pat ordered to turn it to salmon,
And the leg most politely complied.

You've heard, I suppose, long ago,
How the snakes, in a manner most antic,
He marched to the county Mayo
And ordered them all into the Atlantic.
Hence never use water to drink
The people of Ireland determine
With mighty good reason, I think,
For Patrick has filled it with vermin,
And snakes and such other things.

He was a fine man as you'd meet
From Fairhead to Kilcrumper,
Though under the sod he is laid,
Let's all drink his health in a bumper.
I wish he was here that my glass
He might by art magic replenish,
But since he is not, why alas!
My old song must come to a finish
Because all the drink is gone.

-William Maginn


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: Barbara
Date: 23 Dec 04 - 02:42 AM

Here's a link for the text for "Crock of Gold"

Blessings,
Barbara


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: GUEST,Tickled pink
Date: 21 Jan 10 - 02:46 PM

some of the funniest songs and recitations I,ve heard in ages come from writing of Brian O Rourke who finally launched a cd called Chantal de Championon, ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!


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Subject: RE: Req: Irish Comic Poem (for recitation)
From: GUEST
Date: 10 Aug 10 - 04:29 AM

Coincidentally, I heard Brian O Rourke singing "The Inverted Blackbird" recently. He attributed it to Fergus Linehan an Irish actor and writer of comic material.


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