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  • mistermuse 12:01 am on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , , Irish curses, , petulance, , , , savoir faire, St. Patrick's Day   


    Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

    May the devil write your obituary in weasel’s piss. –old Irish curse

    Hold on — how did that get there? Either the devil made me do it, or me computer is up to no good (which wouldn’t be the first time). To be sure, me fine lads and lassies, this post is about curses in verses, but a curse alone does not a poem make. As for that derelict curse above, there are no weasels in Ireland unless you count the sloat (which is often mistaken for a weasel) or the lowly human (which often acts like a weasel, but technically is not).

    Be that as it may, I haven’t got all (St. Patrick’s) day, so let’s get on with it. Here is a cultivated selection of VERSES WITH CURSES which, not least among its Hibernian virtues, could serve to show America’s petulant President how to insult his inferiors with a bit more savoir fairy (class, in plain English) than is typical in his limited vocabulary:

    THE CURSE by John Millington Synge

    Lord, confound this surly sister,
    Blight her brow with blotch and blister,
    Cramp her larynx, lung, and liver,
    In her guts a galling give her.

    Let her live to earn her dinners
    In Mountjoy with seedy sinners:
    Lord, this judgment quickly bring,
    And I’m your servant, J. M. Synge.

    from THE CURSE OF DONERAILE by Patrick O’Kelly

    Alas! how dismal is my tale,
    I lost my watch in Doneraile.
    My Dublin watch, my chain and seal,
    Pilfered at once in Doneraile.
    May Fire and Brimstone never fail,
    To fall in showers on Doneraile.
    May all the leading fiends assail
    The thieving town of Doneraile,
    As lightnings flash across the vale,
    So down to Hell with Doneraile.
    The fate of Pompey at Pharsale,
    Be that the curse of Doneraile.
    May beef, or mutton, lamb or veal
    Be never found in Doneraile,
    But garlic soup and scurvy kale
    Be still the food of Doneraile.
    And forward as the creeping snail,
    Th’ industry be, of Doneraile.
    May ev’ry churn and milking pail
    Fall dry to staves in Doneraile.
    May cold and hunger still congeal
    The stagnant blood of Doneraile.
    May ev’ry hour new woes reveal
    That Hell reserves for Doneraile.
    May ev’ry chosen ill prevail
    O’er all the imps of Doneraile.
    May not one prayer or wish avail
    To sooth the woes of Doneraile.
    May the Inquisition straight impale
    The rapparees of Doneraile.
    May curse of Sodom now prevail
    And sink to ashes Doneraile.
    May Charon’s Boat triumphant sail
    Completely manned from Doneraile.
    Oh! may my couplets never fail
    To find new curse for Doneraile.
    And may grim Pluto’s inner jail
    Forever groan with Doneraile.

    RIGHTEOUS ANGER by James Stephens

    The lanky hank of a she over there
    Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer:
    May the devil grip the whey-faced slut by the hair,
    And beat bad manners out of her skin for a year.

    That parboiled imp, with the hardest jaw you will see
    On virtue’s path, and a voice that would rasp the dead,
    Came roaring and raging the minute she looked on me,
    And threw me out of the house on the back of my head!

    If I asked her master, he’d give me a cask a day;
    But she, with the beer at hand, not a gill would arrange!
    May she marry a ghost and bear him a kitten, and may
    The High King of Glory permit her to get the mange.

    THE CURSE OF NOT BEING IRISH by mister O’muse

    And so we can see, Donald T.,
    What the problem may well be:
    In your entire immigrant ancestry,
    Of Irish blood, you’re entirely free.

    But on St. Patrick’s Day, luckily,
    Every man is an Irishman, glory be!
    So depart for today from your family tree,
    Uproot this curse, branch out, and be free!

    From ass act to class act, verily
    This very day, you can transformed be….
    Therefore, by virtue of the Irish in me,
    I dub thee, please God, President Donald O’T.


    • The Whitechapel Whelk 12:40 am on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Happy St Pat’s! May you be in Heaven before The Devil finds out you’re dead.

      Liked by 3 people

    • pendantry 4:54 am on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      I have no verse for you, but I do have a riddle:
      What’s the difference between a stoat and a weasel?

      (One’s weaselly recognised, the other is stoatally different). Ha Ha.

      Liked by 3 people

    • Garfield Hug 5:46 am on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      🍀🍀🍀Happy St Pat’s Day🍻🍀🍀🍀😄

      Liked by 2 people

    • GP Cox 8:11 am on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Liked by 1 person

    • Carmen 8:24 am on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      From one person with the Irish in ‘er to another – Happy St. Paddy’s Day! (oh, and the ditty for the Donald O.T is a good ‘un)

      Liked by 1 person

    • Lisa R. Palmer 8:33 am on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Lol!! Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

      May the green you wear
      reflect the green you bear
      as good fortune follows you ev’rywhere!

      Liked by 1 person

    • mistermuse 11:28 am on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply



      • Carmen 12:41 pm on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

        Would mister muse be muted ?? 😉

        Liked by 1 person

        • mistermuse 3:26 pm on March 17, 2018 Permalink

          Carmen, I’m no longer muted — for some mysterious reason, I am suddenly able to log in again, after not being able to do so since yesterday afternoon (I had pre-written the post before the problem, but had to use my daughter’s computer to publish it). They say time heals all things, but this is the first time I heard of time fixing a computer problem. I’m thinking St. Patrick must have interceded with the computer gods on my behalf. 🙂


        • Carmen 4:10 pm on March 17, 2018 Permalink

          This same thing happened to another blogger friend of mine just the other day — it’s WordPress gremlins, I believe! Glad St. Patrick interceded. . . 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

    • Don Frankel 3:39 pm on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Muse, today everyone in New York City is Irish and wearin’ the green. So here’s my toast to you.

      “May your glass ever be, full. May the roof over your head ever, be strong.
      And may we both be in heaven for a half an hour before the Devil knows we’re dead.”

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 11:21 pm on April 8, 2018 Permalink | Reply

        Sorry for the delayed reply, Don. Somehow I overlooked your comment — I must have had a few too many glasses of Stout at the time.


    • arekhill1 3:58 pm on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Will the Savoir Fairy join the leprechaun and the banshee as Irish legends, Sr. Muse? I sincerely hope so.

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 5:31 pm on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

        Only on St. Patrick’s Day, Ricardo. I’d hate to think of the French losing their Savoir Fairy all the other days of the year.


    • Positively Alyssa 10:20 pm on March 17, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Happy St. Patrick’s Day!! I hope you have a great evening! I wanted to thank you for liking my post about Forgiveness! I appreciate you reading and I hope you will like more of my posts! I look forward to reading more of yours and hope the rest of your weekend is wonderful!

      Liked by 1 person

    • markscheel1 4:22 pm on March 18, 2018 Permalink | Reply


      I thought I knew poetry, but I’d never run across these! LOL I’ll have to share with my Irish journalist friend, A. J. Nevertheless, I don’t think they’d work for our current POTUS! Wouldn’t fit on a tweet.
      BTW–a friend recommended and lent me a video of the classic ballet film The Red Shoes. Really enjoyed it and thought of you and your love of “the oldies.” Bet you could write something great on that, if you haven’t already! 😉


      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 9:40 pm on March 18, 2018 Permalink | Reply

        Mark, the only way you could’ve come across the last poem was if you had read my puckish Irish mind, as I just wrote it the day before I published this post. BTW, your Irish journalist friend will no doubt recognize the name of the first poem’s author, John Millington Synge, of PLAYBOY OF THE WESTERN WORLD fame.

        I’ll have to pass on The Red Shoes, as I’m not into ballet, though I understand it’s a great film.


    • The Coastal Crone 2:15 pm on March 20, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Thank you for choosing to follow my humble blog! I have enjoyed exploring yours and reading your poem’s for St. Patrick’s Day. Now I know what Donald T’s problem is!

      Liked by 1 person

    • mistermuse 5:17 pm on March 20, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      My pleasure, Jo Nell. As for Donald T’s problem, I have to admit it goes far beyond not being Irish, but just for St. Patrick’s Day, I put me Irish blinders on and let it go at that.

      Liked by 1 person

    • RMW 6:30 pm on March 21, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Ah, a rhyming president.
      If only he was resident!

      That’s all I have…

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 9:18 am on March 22, 2018 Permalink | Reply

        RMW, if you mean resident someplace other than the White House, I am not hesitant — I mean ‘hesident’ — to agree.


    • Silver Screenings 1:55 pm on March 24, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Whoa! Some pretty grim stuff here, especially the tirade against Doneraile. I’d sure hate to be a resident of that town…!

      Liked by 1 person

    • kutukamus 7:20 am on March 31, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Much enjoyed about this very Mr. T
      Wreaking havoc on everybody 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

    • barkinginthedark 1:38 am on October 29, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Alas, no Irish, Drumpf is German
      And begorrah, also vermin


      Liked by 1 person

  • mistermuse 3:13 pm on March 17, 2015 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Irish coleen, , , Maureen O'Hara, , St. Patrick's Day, The Quiet Man   


    If you’re lucky enough to be Irish….you’re lucky enough! —Irish proverb

    On St. Patrick’s Day, every man is an Irishman — if you disagree, get out of me sight and don’t come back until tomorrow! Besides, today me mind is not on Irish men, but on Irish lasses — coleens (or colleens), a word of Gaelic origin — specifically, coleens whose first name ends in een, as does me wife’s (Maureen).

    One of the most famous Maureens is Irish-born Maureen O’Hara, the lovely red-headed actress who co-starred in my favorite John Wayne movie, THE QUIET MAN. This Academy Award-winning film, directed by Irish-born John Ford, is set in the fictional Irish village of Innisfree (the ending word in my last post SANCTUARY, from Wm. Butler Yeats’ poem LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE).

    To me, the most Irish-sounding girl’s first name ending in een is Pegeen, a name I first heard of in Irish playwright John Millington Synge’s great THE PLAYBOY OF THE WESTERN WORLD, a wickedly funny play (later filmed in 1962) which, at its first performance in Dublin in 1907, caused a riot. Synge’s contemporary, W.B. Yeats, later wrote of the play, “It is never played before any Irish audience for the first time without something or other being flung at the players.” Pegeen is the name of the village barmaid, the heroine with “the divil’s own temper,” who is courted — and lost — by Christy Mahon, the “Playboy of the Western World.”

    Another Irish een name I am fond of is Kathleen, heard in several Irish ballads, including KATHLEEN MAVOURNEEN and the beautifully poignant I’LL TAKE YOU HOME AGAIN, KATHLEEN:

    Happy March seventeen!

    • ladysighs 4:49 pm on March 17, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      It is a beautiful song. 🙂


      • mistermuse 7:30 pm on March 17, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        It is indeed, ladysighs — and if you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll confess it brings a tear to me eye whenever I hear it. 😦


        • ladysighs 5:07 am on March 18, 2015 Permalink

          I guess you mean not to tell anyone about Kathleen? Especially not your Maureen?? 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

    • Don Frankel 5:48 pm on March 17, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      “May your glass ever be full. May the roof over your head ever be strong.”
      And may we both be heaven for a half an hour before the Devil knows were dead.

      Happy St. Patrick’s Day Muse.

      Did I ever tell you that I marched up 5th Avenue in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade?


    • mistermuse 7:40 pm on March 17, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Same to ya, Don. I think you did mention marching in the Parade once, though I’m not sure I recall the details – was that when you went by the name Don O’Frankel?


    • arekhill1 9:01 pm on March 17, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      For some reason my mother had a copy of a compilation titled “Great Irish Plays” and it included “The Playboy of the Western World.” II must have read it when I was twelve or thirteen. I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever read.

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 6:35 am on March 18, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        I mentioned that the play was filmed (in Ireland) in 1962. I saw it once many years ago, but I don’t know if it’s still available. If it is, it’s well worth seeing.


    • mistermuse 6:27 am on March 18, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Ladysighs, though that song about Kathleen brings a tear to me eye whenever I hear it, I have an old 78 rpm record titled MAUREEN that brings TWO tears to me eye (sometimes even three, if she happens to read this). So, no problem.


    • Don Frankel 7:35 am on March 18, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Muse when I was a kid I peddled balloons in the streets and at all the Parades. The Macy’s is the most magical and the St. Patrick’s by far the happiest. Everyone is having a good time and no not because everyone is drinking most people are not. It’s just that everyone gets to be Irish.

      Long story short I tell my wife about this and I wished I could have marched in that Parade rather than any of the others. Well she’s not Irish either but she is a graduate of St. John’s and she belonged to a fraternal society there and well one day we get invited to march. So it was Hungarian Irish O’Frankel and Haitian Irish O’Belmar M.D. marching up 5th Avenue. It was awesome.


      • mistermuse 12:36 pm on March 18, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        It does indeed sound like it was awesome, Don. As mentioned in my post, on St. Patrick’s day, every man (and woman) is an Irishman. But now it’s the day after, and I don’t know what you’re going to do for the next 364 days of Irishlessness. I guess you’ll just have to make the best of it.


    • Michaeline Montezinos 10:04 am on March 18, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      I think Maureen and Pegeen and Kathleen are very sweet names but how about “Michaeleen?” I liked your posting and my daughter and her friend arrived for a visit on St. Patty’s Day. Sam is part Irish so I bought shamrock cupcakes for them. I marched in one parade in my hometown of Hatramck. It was sponsored by the Polish Alliance group. I was with my Girl Scout Troop #563. The parade route was several miles down the main street of Joseph Campau. I doubt if we had any Irish in our little town of about 25,000 people but they would have been very welcome if they were there.


    • mistermuse 12:26 pm on March 18, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Well, I called you “me fine Mickaleen colleen” in my Monday morning (March 16) reply to one of your comments to my ABOUT THE BEGINNING post, so I trust that makes up for its absence in this post. After all, you’re of Polish descent, though I must admit Mickaleen sounds like an Irish name.


  • mistermuse 12:00 pm on March 17, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Book of Kells, , , , Importance of Being Earnest, , , , , , , , satiric masterpieces, St. Patrick, St. Patrick's Day,   


    I contemplated concluding this four-part series with thoughts and reminisences on my tour of the Emerald Isle some thirty years ago, but I have so many fond memories that I lack the time, and perhaps the words, to do them justice. Besides, recounting personal vacation trips is a dubious proposition of boring potential at best, so I’ll spare you (and me) the task, and go instead with a few swigs of St. Patrick’s Day trivia and a wee bit of Irish Lit, writ and wit.

    Let’s start with St. Patrick himself. One might assume that St. Patricks Day is celebrated on March 17 because that’s his birthday, but in fact, his exact birth date is unknown. March 17 is the day he died (in the year 461).

    The first St. Patrick’s Day parade took place in NYC on March 17, 1762. For more on this and other things Irish, click on these short video clips:


    As for Irish Lit, one of the earliest surviving manuscripts is the painstakingly crafted and astonishingly beautiful Book of Kells (circa 800), which I had the pleasure of viewing at Dublin’s Trinity College Library. See for yourself at:


    Ireland, of course, has produced some of the greatest satirists and masterpieces of wit in history, including Jonathan Swift (Gulliver’s Travels), Oscar Wilde (The Importance of Being Earnest), George Bernard Shaw (Pygmalion, on which My Fair Lady is based), and John Millington Synge (The Playboy of the Western World). Excellent movies (and some not-so-excellent re-makes) have been made of all, and I close with a quote or a clip from each:

    The tiny Lilliputians surmise that Gulliver’s watch may be his God, because it is that which, he admits, he seldom does anything without consulting.  –Gulliver’s Travels (1939)

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eymdx4xomM  –The Importance of Being Earnest (1952)

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EADz07k_wXU  –Pygmalion (1938)

    …if it’s a poor thing to be lonesome, it’s worse maybe to go mixing with the fools of earth.  –The Playboy of the Western World (1962)

    May this St. Patrick’s Day find you neither lonesome nor with the fools of earth.

    • arekhill1 1:45 pm on March 17, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Been years since I read the Playboy of the Western World. thanks for reminding me of it.


    • mistermuse 4:07 pm on March 17, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      I own a two-record (33 1/3 rpm) box set of the play recorded by Cyril Cusack (who played the playboy) Productions of Dublin in 1955. The accompanying booklet relates how the play’s first performance in Dublin in 1907 caused a riot because, as the Irish Times wrote, “the majority of theatregoers are not accustomed to remoreless truth.” The 1911 American premiere caused “one of the noisiest rows ever seen in a New York theatre.”

      I find it extremely interesting that one of the play’s champions was none other than ex-President Teddy Roosevelt, who wrote that “The little crowd of denaturalized Irishmen who tried to prevent the performance of The Playboy of the Western World by the Irish players in New York City have succeeded in doing precisely what was needed to bring the play to public attention.”

      How much, and yet how little, people and times have changed since then.

      Liked by 1 person

  • mistermuse 6:57 am on March 15, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , Irish lullabies, Irish proverbs, Irish toasts, leprechans, , St. Patrick's Day   


    For day two of our St. Patrick’s Day celebration, we turn to Irish toasts and proverbs. Given the Irishman’s fondness for a wee nip now and then and again, one would expect there to be no shortage of the former, and as for the latter, well, no doubt many an Irish proverb was born of a toast, after more or less sober reflection. In any case….

    Everyone is wise till he speaks.

    As you slide down the banister of life, may the splinters never point in the wrong direction.

    May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live.

    If you don’t know the way, walk slowly.

    Long life to you, a wet mouth, and may you die in Ireland.

    May misfortune follow you the rest of your life and never catch up.

    If you want praise, die. If you want blame, marry.

    Leprechans, castles, good luck and laughter.
    Lullabies, dreams and love ever after.

    If you’re lucky enough to be Irish, you’re lucky enough!

    May your glass be ever full.
    May the wind be always at your back.
    May the sun shine warm upon your face
    And the rain fall soft upon your fields,
    And until we meet again,
    May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

    Two days down the hatch and tumor to go (sorry, couldn’t resist). For day three, I’ll get dressed in me Sunday best and request ye be my guest for Part Three.

  • mistermuse 12:01 am on March 14, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , Irish drunk, Irish jokes, Irish proverb, Irish whiskey, , shamrocks, St. Patrick's Day   


    May you always have a clean shirt, a clear conscience, and enough coins in your pocket to buy a pint.  –Irish proverb

    St. Patrick’s Day may still be four days away (including today), but bein’ even one part (1/4th) Irish is enough for me to question squeezing a bottomless pit (not to be confused with a bottomless pint) of Irish blarney into a single day. So don’t be blaming me for expanding the celebration and getting an early start — and may the good Lord forgive the three out me four grandparents who weren’t born in Ireland.


    How did the Irish Jig get started?
    Too much to drink and not enough restrooms.

    A drunk staggers into a Dublin church , enters a confessional and sits down, but says nothing. The Priest coughs to get his attention, but the drunk continues to sit there without a word. Finally, the Priest pounds on the wall three times.
    The drunk mumbles, “Ain’t no use knockin’, there’s no paper on this side either.”

    What’s the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish funeral? One less drunk at the party.

    Pat and Mike have been drinking buddies for years. One day Pat says to Mike, “We’ve been friends for years and, if I die first, would ye do me a favor — get the best bottle of Irish whiskey and pour it over me grave.”
    Mike replies, “I would be glad to do that for ye, old friend, but would ye mind if I pass it through me bladder first?”

    Time out for a cold one. Part two tomorrow.

    • arekhill1 12:40 am on March 14, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      If it weren’t for whiskey, the Irish would rule the world.


    • mistermuse 8:28 am on March 14, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Sure and begorrah!


    • Don Frankel 5:13 am on March 15, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      “May the road rise up to meet you. May the rain fall softly on your fields. And may you be in heaven for a full half hour before the devil knows you’re dead.”

      Muse I claim Irish status due to being a born and bred New Yorker where there are more people of Irish descent than in Dublin and also due to the fact that I once marched in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade. Not to mention the times I peddled balloons at the parade when I was in my Uthe.


    • mistermuse 6:02 am on March 15, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Don, I was going to use that “May the road rise up….” quote in my Part Two post today, but since you’re Irish too (and since that was just one of many), I forgive ye. Top o’ the mornin’ to ye!


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