Teenager's Poems 1996 to 2003
As these poems were written between 1996 and 2003 by teenagers who are now adults, the surnames have been left off. If you want to reclaim a poem and have your name attached please contact email@example.com. We can add your name or remove the poem. Better still, give us a paragraph about yourself to add to your poem.
What is/was this website? See Roizine
O'Casey's Wake by Thomas
The people started shouting, From Mayo down to Cork. The message passed from Flaherty, to Reilly and O'Rourke. "Have you heard about O'Casey ? Bejays, he's passed away. He went and kicked the bucket drinking Guinness yesterday. Now isn't that the way to go? All full of ale and cheer, He died amongst his loved ones, drowned in a vat of beer." The crowd all came a'calling to see O'Casey dead. He lay there proud and regal in his king sized feather bed. Each caller brought a bottle, and some brought bread or cake, As they settled down to celebrate the late O'Casey's wake. The widow Prosser, first in line, had come to wash him down. Her usual fee was one and nine but they slipped her half a crown. The priest took out his rosary beads and gave the final rite, Then cheerfully drank the corpse's health from a case of Black and White. The women raised their aprons and covered weeping eyes, Their keening and their wailing was rendered to the skies. The stout and whiskey flowed quite free, The noise grew wild and loud. The whole town danced an Irish jig before O'Casey's shroud. The widow of O'Casey, demurely dressed in black, Drank from a jug of neat poteen and fell upon her back. O'Casey lay there smiling, His heart was full of joy. He could hear O'Mara's tenor singing darlin' "Danny Boy". Then drunken Ritchie Flanagan, in a spurt of sodden wit Raised O'Casey's head and shoulders and gave the crowd a fit. There were screams of fright and horror as he tumbled from his bed. "We should bury him tomorrow but the poor sod isn't dead" The widow jumped up screaming "We can't waste such a wake ", Then the corpse began a'moaning so she hit it with a rake. Then they brought him to his coffin, And they screwed O'Casey down, Sure it was the finest funeral they'd ever had in town. The Moral of this story ? If you're going to have a wake, Is first be sure the corpse is dead for everybody's sake.
Check out the site from these links| Roizine a 90s Teen Magazine | Poetry | Teen Fashion --> | USA 1996-2001 | USA 2002 to 2003 | Euopean | World |
The original site was launched on the 6th of June, 1996 and you can read its history on the Roizine home Page. The site went offline in 2003 and has been put up again in 2018 as a snapshot of teenagers fashions and poetry from 1996 to 2003.