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Here you will find poetry, opinion and prose mixed together in roughly equal measure. Add one man available from specialist suppliers only. Stick everything into a blender for five minutes. Stir gently with a wooden spoon, then pour slowly into tall glasses with crushed ice.

No cherries. No little parasols. No curly straws. Let the drink speak for itself.

I wrote the first version of my poem Dagda back in October 2004, and the verses were shortly afterwards used in casting a sacred circle to invoke the male aspect of the Divine. Dagda is an Old God, an important figure in Irish mythology and a High King of the Tuatha Dé Danann. He is important to many Pagan paths including Druidry. Dagda is sometimes connected in people’s minds to the Green Man whose face adorns old churches, and while there appears to be no evidence I can find to confirm that link as real it is nevertheless one that I myself intuitively make.

The version of the poem I present to you today was extensively revised just as a gloriously hot pink and baby blue dawn broke on this very morning in 2009. I only realised when the reworking was finished that it is exactly five years and two months after the original was committed to paper. I hope you enjoy reading, and feel free to make use of the poem in your own ritual invocations (but as ever please acknowledge the poet’s copyright, and do not republish anywhere else).

I did not set out to revise the poem, or indeed any poem, not today, but I believe the reason for it is to be found in the fact that yesterday I began listening to the first few audio gwersi (lessons) of the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids (OBOD) Bardic course and was profoundly moved by what I heard and took on board.

Without further preamble, I present to you,

Dagda

my father is your father
everybody’s father
the father of us all
the father of Brigid or Bride or Brigit

a good god
Dagda
the red god
the phallic god

his cauldron is never dry
his flame is eternal
fire in the belly and the loins
fire in the eye

This club-wielding deity pictured on the Gunde...

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fertile lover of the great Queen
the Lord of perfect knowledge
play your harp of seasons’ change
swing your club that slays and revives

strong Dagda
hungry Dagda
lustful Dagda
merciful Dagda

hear us old giant
druid of oak and hazel
compassionate and just
eldest, wisest, mightiest one

bring your wisdom and lust for life
passion in all things for all things
victory to those who fight for right
and join us in our circle of love

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View Comments to “Poem // Dagda”

  1. ivy emeraldhorse says:

    beautiful poem,can other's add to?

  2. If you mean alter the creative work, it's a no. But I do allow what you might call my spiritually-themed poems like this one to be used by people in rituals. This one was originally written as an invocation for a ritual. But people do need to ask, as you have done. :-)

    I can well accept my poem inspiring others to write but I rather think it better to create new than expand upon or edit what has gone before, really. x

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