Blue Is the colour of my soul: Eoin Dunford's fifth website, since 17 August 2021
New poetry by Eoin Dunford though most of it harks back to 2007 (thanks, Harry) that doesn't appear anywhere else. My main website is eoindunford.com .
Welcome to Blue Is the Colour of My SoulVisit eoindunford.com if you have the time.
Greetings from Dún Garbhán on the south coast of Éire. Love, poetry. About eoindunford.com . I created eoindunford.com in 2016 and it got its own domain just before Christmas 2019. This website eoindunford.com presents my poetry in English and Irish as well as a selection of my digital artworks. Navigate your way through eoindunford.com using the links which are available across the top of that website. As well as featuring my digital art eoindunford.com also includes some selfies. That's what's at eoindunford.com among other things. Thanks, God, for helping me make these websites. Agus anois. Cuid filíochta. Now for some poetry. Blue Is the Colour of My Soul was created on 17 August 2021. NOTE: Poems which appear here are not available anywhere else on the internet and all poetic work (c) Eoin Dunford |
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blueisthecolourofmysoul.weebly.com presents fArther poetry by me which doesn't appear anywhere elsE ON THE SPLINTERNET -- PLEASE visit my main website eoindunford.com
Welcome to blueisthecolourofmysoul.weebly.com
BLUE IS THE COLOUR OF MY SOUL
Welcome to Blue Is the Colour of my Soul.
It is a nice website I made.
However, it is not quite as nice
As Harry the hero.
CALL ME
Just seen the video to "Call Me"
By Blondie, I had never seen it before.
Deborah Harry is singing on stage
And playing in the ocean:
She looks so happy,
She is a lovely lady and I really like her.
COYOTE
I broke out of the cave dank
To see a coyote beneath a northern sky,
And it was the wondrous tree on the skyline
That lifted me to the highest heaven.
HYMN
I should like to sing a hymn.
I should like to sing it in praise of Mary.
I had a setback
But it is becoming okay.
I LOVE BECAUSE IT IS LOVE AND SHE LOVES
The Sweetie Mother
Said,
I am beautiful
Because I love.
I'M IN HEAVEN
I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek.
I will be transitioned in the unalterable direction of the Light.
I'VE SEEN IT RAINING FIRE IN THE SKY
A little.
Thankfully
The LORD had my severest problems covered
In a very special way so they did not REALLY affect me.
JILLIS REDEMPTRIX
Thanks for everything,
Love.
I enjoyed my life at times (grace à Dieu)
Though I made a mess and that's being kind
Out of the life which Jill hath gave me.
I'd love to have a coffee with you
And to hit things off with you:
It'd be very graceful (I'd like to thank you once more).
LES ROUTES DE LA RÉPUBLIQUE
Descending once more to the "devil's lair"
Among the torrential republican rocks
I am reminded that time cannot erase the Celtic fringe
Neither cause decay the hiding places of the past,
Towards Guémené of the drunken steward
And the drunken perambulation home from the tabac
I realise that we are all the same, equal
Within or without the republic that Europe has
Since the demise of Roman Christianity become.
Towards Montreuil well within imperial territory now
With the deaf stónad tough eccentric English vieillard
And his loving wife Cynthia
And their "I say" and "Quite so"
I see that experience is a beacon of light
And that e'en the monarchy can foster timeless subjects.
Towards Chauvigny of the eagles and the imperious ramparts
And the busy tacky decrepit thoroughfare
With the church doors open in its midst
I come to splendid consciousness of the undying
Fact that Christianity will always linger amid the antichristian edict.
Towards St. Gervais and away from the devil's brew
Once for all
I learn that confession will draw even the unbaptised to its pale;
Islam can act as a satellite of solar lumière.
Between restful churchyard and cantankerous tabac
In Cheverny the following morning
I see that all is one, and will so remain, for
The universe and the Law-giver are undivided against themselves.
To La Chartre (not Chartres) and
Then it is back to Brittanic soil;
Indeed by now we have come full circle
In the priceless, undying kingdom of Capetian wine.
LETTER TO BENSON
Folly!
The toll of the bell.
If this sounds like rubbish to you, or filth? Ashworth, read on, so far astray.
Your beauty, my pet, has a timeless appeal.
LIFE
A sudden urban gust
Blew the clean white page from my hands,
Under an ominous English sky.
Now that sign is past retrieving.
NEMESIS
I am kept
from the isle of rotten apples
and him who cannot be named
only by nighttimes.
ROMAN CHRISTIANITY?
The String in our hand
We freefall; let us be arrested
'Fore we fall to the depths
Of the glamorous ocean
SEAGULL OF BEAUTY
seagull of beauty
take this broken stone
and cast it like a millstone
to the depth devouring
SOMETHING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO HEAVEN
I have given up the cigarettes.
And yet Christ is crucified,
Crucified afresh in the bodies of men
On the streets of the lawless city.
How many crucified we then, and left not even a relic?
Faust-like, we strove to extinguish the immortal!
My friends, we knew you not for the same reason
That we decorated a tree with our Lord.
THE CHURCH
The ogham stone stands erect and timeless
Although the etchings have become worn;
In a like manner the Church of God suffers through
The grievous ages until he come, until he come in glory.
THE HUGUENOT QUARTER
Poets and musicians and practitioners of Falun Gong
juggling words
and smoking thought
and spouting dreams
and guys in orange socks
listening to the crazy beat.
THE LABOUR OF OUR YEARS
The flag aloft
The men below
The flag aloft
The men below
THE LITTLE BLUE LAMB
I have soul but I am no souljah,
Haz.
For any hurt you inflicted on me. We've been through a lot.
Alleluia, he is coming.
THE MYSTERY OF OUR LIVES
OR, When there's nowhere else to run!
Don't worry, be happy.
It is merely the symptom of another malaise.
This malaise, I am afraid, is untreatable.
You were born with it and it is called
Destiny.
The destiny of the unforgiven becomes
The destiny of the twilight zone which
In turn gives way to the great destiny
Of the being forgiven in Christ.
Would that I rightly understood these mysterious turns of events. Evenemeant
THE OTHER ARTIST [THE LADY] ;-)
I see you
drawing
a coveted
objet d'art
my tender love
you are my
object and my
purpose
THE PROBLEM OF PAIN [after Lewis]
I've f***ed up my life
Through having been
And being
And remaining
Always
Sinful
At the moment of conception
Of the idea
Born of a teeteringly brilliant
Mind.
I wish I had lived differently.
I wish I had been born in the Middle Ages.
F*** it.
Some things never will be right I know.
I wish I had done the same things
Differently. for the Lord Goodchild
THE RETURN OF THE KING
OR, Didn't he dress like unto a beggar
The books will be opened, the scrolls unfurled,
The trumpets sounded, like a cry from afar:
And all those whose names are not seen inscribed
In the blood of the Lamb precious and pure
Will have the devil to answer to on that fated day!
Make way! Make way in haste! Make way for the King!
THE TRAPPINGS OF UNPUBLISHED VERSE
I remember reading that poem to you, my old friend,
As we sat in front of a screen in the foreign university.
Yet you it was who introduced me to cannabis (I hold nothing against you,
Nothing in the least now) and soon the Poem was to unravel
Into just trappings of the man I should have been. The university of life was
Soon to bequeath me her own (unpublished) verse.
THE WEIGHT of LOVE
The knowledge of a truth too terrible
To be shared with a living soul
In a heart so full of love and the desire for good
That it veritably overflows
WARTIME JAPANESE BOY
O neon wind
I wanted to fly with thee
O neon wind
But instead you became
My American
Immolation.
WOLF
Wolf:
The tears they soaked your fur;
The blood dripped from your fangs...
You loved that lamb
Welcome to Blue Is the Colour of my Soul.
It is a nice website I made.
However, it is not quite as nice
As Harry the hero.
CALL ME
Just seen the video to "Call Me"
By Blondie, I had never seen it before.
Deborah Harry is singing on stage
And playing in the ocean:
She looks so happy,
She is a lovely lady and I really like her.
COYOTE
I broke out of the cave dank
To see a coyote beneath a northern sky,
And it was the wondrous tree on the skyline
That lifted me to the highest heaven.
HYMN
I should like to sing a hymn.
I should like to sing it in praise of Mary.
I had a setback
But it is becoming okay.
I LOVE BECAUSE IT IS LOVE AND SHE LOVES
The Sweetie Mother
Said,
I am beautiful
Because I love.
I'M IN HEAVEN
I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek.
I will be transitioned in the unalterable direction of the Light.
I'VE SEEN IT RAINING FIRE IN THE SKY
A little.
Thankfully
The LORD had my severest problems covered
In a very special way so they did not REALLY affect me.
JILLIS REDEMPTRIX
Thanks for everything,
Love.
I enjoyed my life at times (grace à Dieu)
Though I made a mess and that's being kind
Out of the life which Jill hath gave me.
I'd love to have a coffee with you
And to hit things off with you:
It'd be very graceful (I'd like to thank you once more).
LES ROUTES DE LA RÉPUBLIQUE
Descending once more to the "devil's lair"
Among the torrential republican rocks
I am reminded that time cannot erase the Celtic fringe
Neither cause decay the hiding places of the past,
Towards Guémené of the drunken steward
And the drunken perambulation home from the tabac
I realise that we are all the same, equal
Within or without the republic that Europe has
Since the demise of Roman Christianity become.
Towards Montreuil well within imperial territory now
With the deaf stónad tough eccentric English vieillard
And his loving wife Cynthia
And their "I say" and "Quite so"
I see that experience is a beacon of light
And that e'en the monarchy can foster timeless subjects.
Towards Chauvigny of the eagles and the imperious ramparts
And the busy tacky decrepit thoroughfare
With the church doors open in its midst
I come to splendid consciousness of the undying
Fact that Christianity will always linger amid the antichristian edict.
Towards St. Gervais and away from the devil's brew
Once for all
I learn that confession will draw even the unbaptised to its pale;
Islam can act as a satellite of solar lumière.
Between restful churchyard and cantankerous tabac
In Cheverny the following morning
I see that all is one, and will so remain, for
The universe and the Law-giver are undivided against themselves.
To La Chartre (not Chartres) and
Then it is back to Brittanic soil;
Indeed by now we have come full circle
In the priceless, undying kingdom of Capetian wine.
LETTER TO BENSON
Folly!
The toll of the bell.
If this sounds like rubbish to you, or filth? Ashworth, read on, so far astray.
Your beauty, my pet, has a timeless appeal.
LIFE
A sudden urban gust
Blew the clean white page from my hands,
Under an ominous English sky.
Now that sign is past retrieving.
NEMESIS
I am kept
from the isle of rotten apples
and him who cannot be named
only by nighttimes.
ROMAN CHRISTIANITY?
The String in our hand
We freefall; let us be arrested
'Fore we fall to the depths
Of the glamorous ocean
SEAGULL OF BEAUTY
seagull of beauty
take this broken stone
and cast it like a millstone
to the depth devouring
SOMETHING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO HEAVEN
I have given up the cigarettes.
And yet Christ is crucified,
Crucified afresh in the bodies of men
On the streets of the lawless city.
How many crucified we then, and left not even a relic?
Faust-like, we strove to extinguish the immortal!
My friends, we knew you not for the same reason
That we decorated a tree with our Lord.
THE CHURCH
The ogham stone stands erect and timeless
Although the etchings have become worn;
In a like manner the Church of God suffers through
The grievous ages until he come, until he come in glory.
THE HUGUENOT QUARTER
Poets and musicians and practitioners of Falun Gong
juggling words
and smoking thought
and spouting dreams
and guys in orange socks
listening to the crazy beat.
THE LABOUR OF OUR YEARS
The flag aloft
The men below
The flag aloft
The men below
THE LITTLE BLUE LAMB
I have soul but I am no souljah,
Haz.
For any hurt you inflicted on me. We've been through a lot.
Alleluia, he is coming.
THE MYSTERY OF OUR LIVES
OR, When there's nowhere else to run!
Don't worry, be happy.
It is merely the symptom of another malaise.
This malaise, I am afraid, is untreatable.
You were born with it and it is called
Destiny.
The destiny of the unforgiven becomes
The destiny of the twilight zone which
In turn gives way to the great destiny
Of the being forgiven in Christ.
Would that I rightly understood these mysterious turns of events. Evenemeant
THE OTHER ARTIST [THE LADY] ;-)
I see you
drawing
a coveted
objet d'art
my tender love
you are my
object and my
purpose
THE PROBLEM OF PAIN [after Lewis]
I've f***ed up my life
Through having been
And being
And remaining
Always
Sinful
At the moment of conception
Of the idea
Born of a teeteringly brilliant
Mind.
I wish I had lived differently.
I wish I had been born in the Middle Ages.
F*** it.
Some things never will be right I know.
I wish I had done the same things
Differently. for the Lord Goodchild
THE RETURN OF THE KING
OR, Didn't he dress like unto a beggar
The books will be opened, the scrolls unfurled,
The trumpets sounded, like a cry from afar:
And all those whose names are not seen inscribed
In the blood of the Lamb precious and pure
Will have the devil to answer to on that fated day!
Make way! Make way in haste! Make way for the King!
THE TRAPPINGS OF UNPUBLISHED VERSE
I remember reading that poem to you, my old friend,
As we sat in front of a screen in the foreign university.
Yet you it was who introduced me to cannabis (I hold nothing against you,
Nothing in the least now) and soon the Poem was to unravel
Into just trappings of the man I should have been. The university of life was
Soon to bequeath me her own (unpublished) verse.
THE WEIGHT of LOVE
The knowledge of a truth too terrible
To be shared with a living soul
In a heart so full of love and the desire for good
That it veritably overflows
WARTIME JAPANESE BOY
O neon wind
I wanted to fly with thee
O neon wind
But instead you became
My American
Immolation.
WOLF
Wolf:
The tears they soaked your fur;
The blood dripped from your fangs...
You loved that lamb
A small selection of digital artworks by Lance McKendrick pen name Eoin Dunford
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Me modified into blue!I am 44 years of age and I like to do creative stuff.
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This is THE FIFTH WEBSITE I AM AFTER MAKING AND PLEASE GIVE eoindunford.com A VISIT
Blue Is the colour of my souL
FRIENDLY SCRIPTURAL REFERENCES
Jesus Christ is come in the flesh
The demons believe and tremble
The stone rejected by the builders has become the cornerstone
And the veil of the temple was rent in twain
Email: [email protected]
An dath gorm i gcónaí ann nó as!
Jesus Christ is come in the flesh
The demons believe and tremble
The stone rejected by the builders has become the cornerstone
And the veil of the temple was rent in twain
Email: [email protected]
An dath gorm i gcónaí ann nó as!
