We were expecting her unwelcome visit thanks to the ingenious invention of Radar, which had been developed during the dark, frightful years of World War II. All we could do was prepare for her inevitable onslaught. She was conceived and born on the African continent…Continue
Added by John Anthony Brennan on October 22, 2014 at 5:00pm — No Comments
It was Samhain, the eve of the Celtic New Year -- the night when the veil between worlds was parted. The night when the spirits could commune with earthly mortals. As a child, he had often heard the tales told around the fireside but as he grew older he dismissed them as harmless ghost stories. …Continue
"All the world's a stage and each must play his part."
How right he was! He knew, and tried to forewarn us, that…Continue
I must stress upon the reader the fact that no animals were harmed in any way during the writing and re-telling of this story. It is true though, that the star of the tale was definitely shocked, awed and mesmerized not to mention puzzled, bewildered and befuddled. As you read, I am sure you will agree that the unruly canine brought it upon himself with his dogged actions towards my hapless father.…Continue
Added by John Anthony Brennan on October 7, 2014 at 3:00pm — No Comments
"Whatever you do, Don't die with Regrets."
"Don't worry dad, I wont'"
Added by John Anthony Brennan on October 3, 2014 at 10:32am — No Comments
Geneticists at Trinity College, Dublin have recently discovered that the Irish gene pool is the least diluted in all of Europe if not indeed, the world. They have also discovered that the Irish traveling people (tinkers) are purely…Continue
This was written in a prison cell by a fellow Irishman, kindred spirit, poet, soldier and a far braver man than I. Bobby Sands, adhering to the ancient Brehon Law of fasting, died while on hunger strike in Long Kesh prison camp for his political beliefs on 5/5/’81.
The Rhythm of Time
There’s an inner thing in every man do you know this thing my friend?
It has withstood the blows of a million years and will do so to the end.
It was born when time did not exist and…Continue
Added by John Anthony Brennan on September 16, 2014 at 3:00pm — No Comments
Oh! to return to that time, place and space of yesterday's papers. Back when I was young, undaunted and sure of nothing, stronger than an oak, spellbound in innocence. Back when being seventeen was wide-eyed and ‘rarin to go, driven by the magical, heady arrogance of youth. Back to that time of transitional transmissions when the curtain was torn down, rent…Continue
Added by John Anthony Brennan on September 12, 2014 at 10:00am — No Comments
The dealing man can still be found in every market square and bazzar in towns and villages around the world. Their nationalities and languages may be different but the art of dealing always follows the same ancient ways. Dealing men were expected to look the part at all times and had a common mode of dress with only slight…Continue
This I wrote as a tribute to all writers, poets, musicians and artists, who from time to time experience bouts of what I call the nasty, malodoros S.S.E. (shitty self-esteem). Consider this as a pat on the back which will encourage us to keep on creating and hopefully ward off the regrets.
All artists, writers, musicians and poets have the uncanny ability to tap into the realm of spirit. It is a gift that enables us to transcend the mundane, and experience the world as we see and feel…Continue
Added by John Anthony Brennan on August 30, 2014 at 11:00am — No Comments
In memory of my ancestor William Brennan (Brennan on the moor) who chose to become a highwayman after his forebears were ousted from their ancestral home in county Kilkenny, during the Norman invasion of Ireland.
He rode from high to the valley floor,
then hid behind the rowan tree.
It was time to settle a deep-set score
and seek vengeance for his family.
They took the land they took their pride,
rode roughshod o'er the scattered…
Added by John Anthony Brennan on August 26, 2014 at 7:30am — No Comments
The massive blasts of the four homemade, two-hundred-pound mortars, launched from the rear of a commandeered, flatbed truck, reverberated and shook the buildings throughout the town as they hit their target with deadly precision. Thankfully, all residents living in the immediate area…Continue
Added by John Anthony Brennan on August 17, 2014 at 7:30pm — No Comments
In A.D. 406 during a particularly harsh winter, the river Rhine froze over. Across this temporary land bridge poured hordes of Germanic tribes led by the charismatic Aleric, King of the Visigoths. This singular event precipitated the fall of the Roman…Continue
He glides across the smooth lakes’ surface,
but she is nowhere in sight.
Stately he moves on ever through the night.
A moonbeam beckons to a hidden place,
where once they did dwell.
Fasted now! Maybe she lays there
and love again might they share.
But no earthly sign now, only pain.
Mute and no sound…Continue
Added by John Anthony Brennan on August 14, 2014 at 9:00am — No Comments
They used to say…Continue
Added by John Anthony Brennan on August 11, 2014 at 9:00pm — No Comments
Atop the mystical hill of Tara stands the stone of Fal, one of four treasures brought to Ireland by the Tuatha de Dannan. It is otherwise known as the ‘stone of destiny.’ There, through the ages, all ard ri (high kings) were crowned. Marriage ceremonies took place there also. These rites were always blessed by the Druid, the holy man of the Celtic peoples. The Brehons, the…Continue
Added by John Anthony Brennan on August 9, 2014 at 11:00am — No Comments
My writing has always been deeply influenced by the Irish writers whose inspiration prompted me to pick up the quill and follow in their footsteps. This is my humble tribute to William Butler Yeats ...
I went down to the cool, dark woods,
when night owls were on the wing.
On earthly ghosts and raging floods
embraced my lonely…
Added by John Anthony Brennan on August 7, 2014 at 2:30pm — No Comments
I set up my blog here with the intention of telling the real, deeper story of the land of our collective birth -- Ireland. Mise Eire. Not the watered-down, errant Hollywood version. Not the version beaten into us by harsh invaders. The real deal, if you like. Anyone reading it will…Continue