Who’s the Paddy

An Ocean of green
No Irish in sight
What does it mean
This St Patrick days night

Drink till your Brain
Dribbles out of your ears
Till you miss your last train
So you drink some more beers

Finally you notice an Irishman’s voice
Drinks all round! A drunken Rejoice

“I, I Slove the Iwish they, they’re just grand”
Out I spitted, as I could barely stand

“Well ye fookin ignore us, all year round
Only on this night are we to be found?”

He looked at me straight
With hate in his soul
“I”m fookin jokin mate”
“How funny, so drole”

Shaken and drunken
I sat back on my stool
My ego had shrunken
I felt the old fool

Then a Guinness was placed on my table
Like some old magical St Patrick’s day fable

“Don’t mind my jokes, to St Paddy we drink!”
And the night concluded with an Irishman’s clink

Photo Courtesy of Miguel Degz at Flickr


About Matt

I love poems, I love stupid pointless not sure if the person really knows what they're writing about poems, that way who knows what might happen!
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Who’s the Paddy

  1. xandimusic says:

    Nice poem Matt, exactly the right for today!

  2. when the world seems too dark
    and I need the light inside of me
    I walk into a pub
    and drink 15 pints of beer
    (attributed to Brendan Behan by the Pogues)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s