A Fairy Tale of New York
By marandina
- 2802 reads
A Fairy Tale of New York
Silvery snow fell on unwashed decks,
emigres sailing from an emerald isle,
huddled masses yearning to breathe,
dreaming dreams of rivers of gold,
in awe, torch of liberty held aloft.
Kirsty and Shane singing in unison,
her perched on piano, him tinkling keys,
telling tales of old mountain dew,
choral, majestic NYPD choirs in blue,
roots left behind in old Galway Bay.
So it was Christmas Eve this day,
church bells chimed on Broadway,
drunkards littered drunk tank cells,
flakes falling, filling vials of hope,
the innocence of disparate souls.
Two dreamers kissed on a corner
then danced through a starry night,
though they fought like banshees
in stories of fable, legend and lore,
ghosts and allegories of Christmas yore.
Wearing the crown of New York City,
him Gaelic, handsome, the girl so pretty,
yet the man a punk, her high on junk,
proud band marching, drumming this tune,
eternal fairy tale in a land of High Noon.
One of the great Christmas songs - Fairy Tale of New York is at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9jbdgZidu8
A majestic poem written about The Statue of Liberty by Emma Lazarus is at http://libertystatepark.com/emma.htm
Image free to use at https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:West_33rd_St,_Coria_Town,_NY_-_p...
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The often told truth behind a
The often told truth behind a fairy tale in New York. I admire the way you capture the seedier side to Christmas with its realities. Definitely an orignal poem that reminds the reader that all is not always perfect this time of year. Especially in that line:- The man a punk, her high on junk. All those kids lost in a world of getting high...so sad.
It needed to be told.
Thank you Paul.
P S If I have got the message behind your poem wrong, I am so sorry and will delete my comment.
Wishing you a Peaceful Winter Solstice.
Jenny.
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Aww, I loved Kirsty MacColl.
Aww, I loved Kirsty MacColl. It was 21 years ago yesterday that she was killed in Mexico. It broke my heart and I still get a touch of the old melancholy when I listen to her albums.
I loved the Pogues too and saw them perform live many times, the last time being in Birmingham of all places about fifteen years ago. I got in free because I was one of the fundraisers for the Justice For Kirsty campaign, standing by the doors at the beginning and the end of the gig, rattling our buckets for loose change to help fund the her mother's struggle in the Mexican courts. The loose change in many cases turned out to be big banknotes, especially towards the end when the crowd were all flutered and a bit tearful from having just heard Fairytale being sung in the encore.
And this is my biggest claim to fame ever ... Channel Four did a documentary about the making of Fairytale of New York and for almost two seconds near to the end of it you can see my face in the crowd at Kirsty's annual gathering by her memorial bench in London's Soho Square.
But anyway ... your poem ... a very good depiction of the harsh realities of life in America for those poor Irish people who survived the voyages across the Atlantic on the coffin ships. Their stories so similar to those of the people crossing the Mediterranean and the English Channel today.
Sláinte mo chara!
Turlough
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The song has never lost its
The song has never lost its magic.
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Another fine poem, Paul.
Another fine poem, Paul. Enjoyed it !!!
hilary
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Well, you drew me in with the
Well, you drew me in with the title, my favourite Christmas song. I read it several times, each time liking it more, and it seemed as if I could hear them singing it. So Happy Christmas!
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That first stanza is a great
That first stanza is a great beginning, and you've woven the lyrics into your poem very cleverly. Weirdly never ever get tired of that song, always sends shivers up my spine the first few notes :0)
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You draw the picture with
You draw the picture with sympathy, - and sadness? Drowning reality with Christmas glitter, and even bright stars and the delicacy of snow. Tragic and poignant, and cynicism not the unnecessary answer. Rhiannon
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