Why I haven't been writing

Yesterday I finally completed the last assignment for the online Irish course I've been taking from the City University of New York. I owe a great debt of thanks to instructor Eimear Ní Cheallaigh, whose encouragement and corrections have been so helpful. Although it's listed as a grammar course, the reading and writing assignments have been just as interesting. I don't think I ever considered a creative writing class in a foreign language, but it's great fun.

So our final assignment was to write an essay on the theme: Tá cúrsaí eacnamaíochta na tíre ina phraiseach faoi láthair. (The nation's economy is in a mess right now.) I decided it would be fun to write an essay in verse, and somehow it came out in limericks. (If you want to try this yourself, agus má tá Gaeilge agat, uirlis an-úsáideach é an bogearra WinGléacht, especially the wildcard searches to help you find rhymes.)

Abair slán, slán go deo leis an craic
Tá an pobal ag dul ina raic
De bharr baincéirí cliste
Tá na bancanna briste
Agus ní fágfar dúinn ach faic.

I nDetroit tagtar lá an breithiúnais
Tá an Triúr Mór i mbaol chlisiúnais
Níl an Chomhdháil ar tí
Iad a tharrtháil, dar fía
Tar éis blianta fada dhíolúnais.

Éíríonn ardfheidhmeannaigh níos ainfhéile
Agus a gcomhlachtaí ag titeamh as a chéile
Íoctar bónais ollmhóra
Don saghas sin tubaisteora
Ach is orainne atá an deirbhéíle!

Here's an English version in case your Irish is rusty ;^)

It looks like the good times are through.
We're all seeing red, feeling blue.
Those bankers so sly
Have bled the banks dry;
There'll be diddley squat left me and you.

In Detroit it is now Judgment Day
The Big Three may go bankrupt, they say.
They asked Congress for dough,
But they told them, "Hell, no!
You'd just fritter that money away!"

CEOs have no cause to complain
While their companies go down the drain.
Those mischievious jerks
Get commissions and perks,
But we're the ones feeling the pain.

A True Celt - according to Google

I searched on the phrase "true Celt" in Google, and found the source for this little poem in the search results.

A true Celt

like Dad
fiery, impetuous, and quick in action.
speaking their language, thinking their thoughts, dreaming their dreams
believes in the unearthly
revels in rare and lovely decoration, and fills every corner of his canvas with rich and intricate patterns of symbolic meaning
hard-working... content to toil from season to season, and all day long
a bit darker than the fair German
on inquiry... in his reply to information,... he asks another question
fiery, passionate, quarrelsome and apt at misunderstanding

King me!

"King me!" I cried.
"I've come all the way to the end of the board
Surmounted your feeble obstacles
Ignored your false messengers
Proven my worth
Moved toward my goal by roundabout dances
Tacking my way across the field.
Now I'm arrived
I'm ready and deserving
Hold back no more--
King me!"