Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Con Murphy Was A Man From Ballydaly

Con Murphy was a man from Ballydaly he lived about four miles from Millstreet Town
The first Irish person executed for possessing arms by the then Government of the British Crown
By all accounts a brave and decent person his life was cruelly cut short in his prime
But his merciless judges gave to Ireland one more hero whose legend lives on through the years of time

I knew old men who remembered Con Murphy they described him as a brave and mighty man
He loved his Country Ireland with a passion and wished to rid it of the Black and Tan
The British Government abused their rule in Ireland one might say in the worst possible way
But at least they gave us heroes like Con Murphy whose legend is alive and well today

Murphy's Terrace in Millstreet Town named in the honour of one quite worthy of enduring fame
The death penalty in any case barbaric in any Nation quite a thing of shame
His murderers robbed him of his right to father children and robbed him of his chance to take a wife
And they robbed him of the greatest gift that he had when they took away from him his gift of life

The British Empire now a fading memory Empires rise and fall it has always been this way
But the lessons of war never have been learned as more wars are fought around the World today
And war robs every nation of it's young and bravest and in wars around the World far too many have died
But young men who die in the manner of Con Murphy are destined to become heroes Nation-wide.

Some People Worry About

Some people worry about little problems and worrying makes them prematurely gray
Suppose that they were born to be worriers since what we are we are meant to be that way
Such people are not rare or never will be i meet one or two of them every day
They feel that the whole World is against them we are what we think we are seems true to say
Above the clouds of gloom that does surround them they never even seem to try to rise
That millions of people are far worse off than they are is something they do not seem to realize
'Tis said we are as poor as we believe that we are with such an assumption i for one agree
Some who are financially secure can be poor in their thinking at least that is how it does seem to me
Some people who are poor are not homeless and hungry since poverty with them is a state of mind
They are lost on their life journey of self pity the road to happiness they cannot find
I enjoy meeting seemingly carefree people of their small worries me they never tell
If they have worries they never mention they have they always seem happy and fit and well,
They like to tell you of their little problems their way perhaps of seeking sympathy
Financially secure yet they do not feel that way and in their minds they are in poverty.

Though We All Look At life

Though we all look at life in a different way
Respect to the opinions of others we ought for to pay
Provided their opinions are not judgemental or racist or meant to offend
Though none of us far from perfect of that why pretend
'Tis something i do struggle to understand
That the most opinionated of people the most power do command
In awe of their arrogance we seem to live
And some of our personal power to them give
In the twenty first century most of the so called successful for their arrogance are known
From the seeds of conceit material success readily grown
The humble quiet achievers as quiet achievers do stay
They never grow wealthy and famous only grow old and gray
The Human World spiritually does seem a poor World indeed
Where the humblest are those never known to succeed.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Tadgh De Brun

Tadgh De Brun is a renowned singer of old ballads a link to Duhallow's cultural and historical past
His type of person invaluable to Ireland in a Land where change does keep occuring fast
He sings the old songs with great pride and passion his contribution to culture we ought not to under-rate
Here is a person who is worth admiring and his is a name that we ought to celebrate

People like Tadgh make a case for re-incarnation he may have lived in another time
As a singer, musician or a dancer, a storyteller or a man of rhyme
In the age of crossroad entertainment his may have been a legendary name
A person who was born with a rare talent and destined for to live a life of fame

The Tadgh De Brun types nowadays rare in Ireland and the Country worse off for this it does seem
Such people deserve much more recognition and are worthy of a far greater esteem
In an age when celebrities every year are paid millions traditional singers and musicians struggle to get by
What does this have to say of us and our sense of values if our links to the past we do tend to deny?

A cultured person one of a rare talent the words of hundreds of old songs he know
The last great ballad singer of Duhallow where the swirling waters of the Allow flow
Through the old fields babbling on to the Blackwater on through Kanturk the North Cork Hometown
Of Tadgh De Brun the famous singer and bouzouki player who is known to some by his english name of Tim Browne.

Born Into The Wrong Circumstance

We were lucky for to be born since the gift of life comes to us by chance
But do spare a thought for the babies born into the wrong circumstance
The children of poor parents of the poor side of the town
From where they live 'tis surely a long hard road to renown
Born of disadvantaged parents where poverty seems a natural thing
Of the praises of a poor person you won't hear too many sing
Without money in your pockets you are not welcome anywhere
And there are millions of paupers in the bigger World out there
Disadvantaged by birth circumstance and by their postal address
Such things most would be employers never do seem to impress
The disappointment of rejection can lead to a life of crime
And like their parents before them destined to serve prison time
Our gift of life which came to us by chance for us a lucky day
Though millions of homeless people may not see it in this way.

I Am One Who Does Have A Rhyme Addiction

I am one who does have a rhyme addiction and I've written one might say a whole lot of rhyme
Without the reward of prestige, fame or money some do say my efforts seem a waste of time
I am not a poet just an average rhymer one who will never make the Rhymers Hall of Fame
As Neily Flynn of Millstreet Town did often remind me that penning verse can be a hungry belly game
To rhyme to me it does seem a compulsion i add to my large total every day
'Tis easy for to rhyme as most will tell you and i have for to agree with what they say
But i feel happy when my pen is rhyming for many years i have been a rhyme buff
Doesn't bother me that much my lack of readers and i'm always happy when i'm penning stuff
Of writers block i hear and read of often and though my worth as a writer i have reason for to doubt
I am one who is never short of subject matter there is always something for to write about
Of people and of places and of Nature the rhymes they seem to keep coming to me
Anyone can string a few verses together believe me 'tis as easy as can be
If i told you that i would give up rhyming then i would only be telling a lie
On penning stuff i do find self enjoyment and i hope to pen on till the day i die.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Ageing In The Queensland Tropics

Ageing in the Queensland tropics a long way from old Koroit Town
Where he was born and grew into manhood and where he lived when his hair was brown
He talks of people he knew in Koroit, Kirkstall, Tower Hill and Killarney to his mates in the pub at Mackay
The man from South Western Victoria from where he now lives far away

His wife and children and grandchildren coastal Queenslanders and they love their tropical Town Where even the most sun shy person from the warm sun and wind is bronzed brown
Though he still talks of Koroit with great fondness in Mackay he will live his last day
It was his life's destiny to leave Victoria and destiny does have it's way.

Australia is such a big Country Mackay to Koroit in distance seems far
It can be a long tiring journey for those who like to travel by car
Since he was last in his southern Hometown near to two decades of years have gone by
Though the love of the first homeplace it does seem is quite a hard thing to deny.

His mates familiar with his often told stories of his nights in the Mickey Bourke and Commercial Hotel
Of his boyhood mentors and the people he grew up with since his memory does serve him well
On his seventy fifth year of living time has left him looking quite gray
In his home in Mackay in the tropics from Koroit in miles far away.

The Gift Of life The Greatest Gift

The gift of life the greatest gift we possess though short enough in time the human span
'Tis said that on average that seventy years is the life of a woman and even a few years less for a man
So make the most of what you have been given since everything in life it does not go to plan
Though 'tis true you cannot put an old head on young shoulders whilst the ageing surely lacking in elan
Some people they are prone to stress and worry though such things never get them anywhere
The people stressing from financial worries abundant in the bigger World out there
But worrying never does solve any problems it only causes inner health decay
'Tis said that stress does lead to heart attacks and cancer the price of worry a huge price to pay
One problem we create for ourselves leads to another that's how it is and that's how it will remain
The World economic depression may be getting to you but few wish to hear you when you do complain
Lucky the one though in financial trouble who can say there are far worse off than i
He or she will live for to see times for them better it will not be of a stress related illness they will die
The gift of life the greatest gift we possess so why not make the most of every day
And since worry leads to stress and to health problems why waste your time in worrying anyway.

No Person's Ground

It is a long drive from here to anywhere
Through the brown unfenced outback of the big country out there
Where the highway eventually becomes a dirt track
You need an all wheel drive to travel in the Outback
Through the big semi desert country of wombat and roo
Of emu, galah, echidna and white cockatoo
Where introduced feral creatures such as goat, pig, deer,donkey and camel and brumby abound
In a wild land referred to by some as 'no person's ground'
A four hour drive from here to the nearest small town
Through a sparsely treed flat landscape rugged looking and brown
Burnt from Summer sun of often forty degrees
With the heat of a furnace in the Outback breeze
Good luck on your journey hope your car doesn't break down
'Tis at least a four hour drive from here to the next town.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

'Tis Fairly Warm Out There

'Tis fairly warm out there some thirty five degrees
And warmth in the sunshine and warmth in the evening breeze
Blowing uphill from the ocean across the country town
Where traffic to and from the highway to the city the streets pass up and down
On the last week of November the Summer not far away
A sharp increase in temperature on the Spring's warmest day
'Tis even fairly warm in the shade of the trees
And the warm air full of the buzzings of flies and wasps and bees
In the town park green from the recent rains Nature's wildflowers abound
Though the warm thirsty winds of Summer suck the moisture from the ground
In five weeks from now or maybe less the town park may be turning brown
At least that usually does what happen when Summer comes to town
Only last week i do recall we did have heavy rain
So with this warm weather we ought not to complain.

Reduced To A Croak

The roar of the Celtic Tiger has been reduced to a croak
The Government of Ireland is financially broke
On a financial bail out from Europe they now must depend
The good times in Ireland have come to an end
I am one of many who has seen this before
Young people migrating from Hibernia's shore
Bad Governments of many National economies have become the downfall
And Ireland never had a good one of which i can recall
Amongst the people of Ireland widespread unhappiness
The economy of their Country has succumbed to financial stress
Unfinished homes due to mortgage foreclosure in city, town, village and the countryside
The hopes and dreams of many in this way destroyed
And though all does seem lost hopes glimmer does remain
That the ailing Celtic Tiger may yet roar again.

The Unhappy One

He reached the heady heights of fame, wealth and success the heady heights that few have ever known
But he would give it all for to be happy yes everything in life that he does own
And though he is one who is not short of admirers and those who aspire to big things he impress
Money has bought him friends with the well connected as well as women but it has failed for to bring him happiness
His three ex wives and his seven children all millionaires thanks to him but money happiness does not bring to his life
In his late sixties he knows if he so wished to that he could buy himself another wife
He only wishes now for to be happy and though many people his praises do sing
He cannot buy the one thing in his life missing and he realizes money is not everything
He is one of the wealthy and the famous but he is not one who can claim to have it all
He does not know what it's like to feel happy that does seem sad for one in his life's Fall
A man that many young people look up to the aspirational he does inspire
For to be as wealthy and successful as him most people do need someone to admire
He has made his children and his ex wives very wealthy and he lives at a fashionable address
But one important thing in his life missing and that is the nine letter word of happiness.

Friday, November 26, 2010

On Internet Scammers

In this age of advanced human technology there is a huge increase in fraudulent crime
On the World Wide Web deception is abundant for internet scammers a profitable time
They cheat the vulnerable out of their savings and leave them without a penny to their name
The people they cheat are not wealthy people yet their actions never seem to cause them shame
'Man's inhumanity to man does make millions mourn' whoever first said that was speaking the truth
Yet spiritually they are poor people those lacking in honesty and kindness and ruth
They are not twenty first century Robin Hoods these people in their ways are so low
To not well to do vulnerable people any sympathy they do not show
Far too many internet scammers people who see cheating as quite okay
With seemingly authentic internet scams to rob people of their savings they even go out of their way
And in many instances they are successful which is a sad thing for to have to say
Such people are not worthy of respect since respect to others they never do pay
In this the twenty first century internet crime it is on the rise
And most internet scammers in their scams are successful more so than most do seem to realize.

Too Many People

Too many people have died in war and war zones yet from the past we never learn it seems that way
In every war the winner seems a loser in loss of lives the price is huge to pay
'Thou Shalt Not Kill' is Moses Fifth Commandment though such the warlords happily disobey
Young men sacrifice their lives for ageing despots some never learn from the past sad to say
So many civilian casualties in war zones two wrongs 'tis said do never make a right
Those who wage wars mostly silly ageing so called leaders who do lack in common sense and on insight
They send their troops to war to fight and even die for them power hungry men who never do grow wiser only gray
The world would be a safer and a happier place to live in if such people never see the light of day
From two World Wars any lessons were not learned that some never learn so happen to be true
Those who start wars are far from decent people they will deserve the Karma they are due
Every battle fought gives rise to more war heroes and many need heroes to celebrate
And many young people daydream of dying in battle as they have their heroes for to emulate
The family members left to grieve their war dead their's for to bear is such a heavy cross
He may have died as a hero to many but to his family his death is a tragic loss.

Such A Beautiful Morning

It is such a beautiful morning blue sky, sunshine and a timid breeze
A low overnight of seventeen a high today of twenty five degrees
At least that is in the weather forecast and short term weather forecasts seldom get it wrong
The magpies fluting in the parkland they have such a beautiful song
The swallows above the town circling without any effort they do fly
To twist and turn to them comes so easy as they chase flying insects in the sky
How could one but only feel happy on such a warm and pleasant Spring day
The sparrows in the bushes chirping familiar in their noisy way
A poet of the beauty i now witness would surely feel inspired for to write
A poem of Nature in all of her splendour for readers to enjoy and recite
White butterflies flitting above the parkland and around the blossoming trees
Resplendent in the light of the sun's lamp the buzzings of flies and of bees
On a day to remember for a lifetime and a wonderful memory for to retain
And in moments of happy reflection such memories come to life again.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

It Is Such A Beautiful Evening

It is such a beautiful evening the songbirds do whistle and sing
The parkland green and healthy looking does wear it's wildflowers of the Spring
The sun in the blue sky is shining with a pleasant warmth in the breeze
That gently blows through the town from the ocean and make the leaves dance on the trees
A poet would write of the beauty that i see around me today
As for me for the joy that i feel at the moment i do not have the words for to say
'Tis near to an Earthly Utopia in November in the southern town
On the quiet streets on this sunday evening few cars and trucks pass up and down
The sparrows chirp under the house eaves the magpie flutes his pleasant song
The musical notes of the blackbird to him and to his kind belong
Into the third week of November the Summer only ten days away
I hope this for me will not be my last Spring though the Reaper on that has the say
It is such a marvellous evening Nature's beauty is all around me
And out there on the sunlit parkland the familiar song of the pee wee.

The Millionaire's Daughter

She is loved and admired by her mum and her dad
Despite this the millionaire's daughter does often feel bad
About her appearance as she fights to keep the kilos down
She is not the prettiest girl in the town

Sometimes she does go on a weight reducing diet
Till to hunger pains she gives in to her big appetite
And the few kilos she has lost she puts back on again
Body appearance to most women gives rise to mental pain.

With a good career job and a huge take home pay
Financially for herself she is doing quite okay
But she is not happy despite all of this
Despite money's advantages it cannot buy happiness

In the prime of her life she has just turned twenty three
But in her mirror she never does like what she see
The only child of wealthy parents with a career of her own
But due to weight problems unhappiness she has only known

Of the praises of money you hear people sing
And though money is quite important it cannot buy everything
With that the millionaire's daughter would surely agree
Everytime she looks in her mirror she does not like what she see.

Happiness From Once Lost

He is not the person that he used to be
And a darker World out there is all he can see
Though the sun it is shining with a gentle breeze
On a pleasant Spring day close to twenty degrees
He used to love Nature before becoming mentally unwell
For people like poor John life can be Earthly Hell
The music of the blackbird floats into his room
But all he can sense is a deep sense of gloom
A batchelor in his mid forties in his brown hair gray
The things that brought him happiness does not today
He used to love Nature but not anymore
Dejection the shield against happiness he felt before
Mental illness invaded and clouded his mind
Happiness from once lost never again easy to find.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

The Great Hero Of Mushera

He was the great hero of Mushera the All Ireland two mile hurdle champion of nineteen hundred and ten
I knew him when i was a youngster he was showing the wear of time then
He did not have to boast of his achievements his great record did say it all
When Duhallow old timers talked of famous athletes Paddy Keeffe's name was one they did recall

In two mile hurdles in his prime in Ireland he was the number one athlete
But he never went to the Olympics Ireland then as a team did not compete
He was then the best athlete in the Country as a mountain hare quite as fleet
And he was more than the pride of his Townland in the high country above Millstreet

Before Duhallow's dual Olympic Gold Medallist Pat O Callaghan was born Paddy Keeffe was in his glorious prime
In the early years of the twentieth century and that is going way back in time
Of those who saw him compete in his best years perhaps none is living today
Time it does take care of the greatest and it never stops ticking away

As a young athlete never found to be wanting he proved himself when put to the test
An All Ireland two mile hurdle champion he remains as Mushera's best
I knew him when i was a youngster his hair it was as white as snow
He must have been quite close to eighty the years had left him walking slow.


You will find fundamentalists in every religion even fundamentalists amongst atheists as well
The kind of people who only see things in their way they see those different to them in their Earthly Hell
They try to impose their belief system on others their way of thinking more dangerous than strong
Anyone who does believe differently to them they see as not worthy and in their thinking wrong
For their chosen God fundamentalists kill people those who take their fundamentalism too far
They kill people who have never done them any harm in bombs strapped to their person or bombs in a car
This is what happens when fundamentalism is put into practice the intended victims with their lives have to pay
Some humans kill other humans for no apparent reason that does seem a sad thing for to have to say
Fundamentalists were never in danger of extinction of them always more than a few
And when i say they are becoming a growing minority i am not saying anything that is new
Some fundamentalists in their ways are harmless they never do harm anyone
But some of them become quite dangerous extremists and bad things to others have done
They even kill themselves for to kill others and become the distributors of fear
They are the twenty first century terrorists of their crimes we read of and hear.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

On The Gray Shrike Thrush

You hear him once you cannot get him wrong
The gray shrike thrush does have a lovely song
With light brown back and unders of light gray
Birds i see often though not every day
They mostly sing in the Spring of the year
And their beautiful whistling is a joy to hear
In a bowl shaped nest of bark and fibres mostly on fork of tree
The female lays her white brown spotted eggs more often than not three
Not the prettiest bird to look at most fine songsters seem that way
But his clear and flute like whistling in your memory bound to stay
It lives where trees are plentiful and in it's range is not rare
As a songster with Australia's finest it favourably does compare
It eats insects, small lizards and nestlings of small birds and to many is well known
And is often seen with it's kind in small flocks or in pairs or on it's own.

A Lot Of Men

A lot of men in my young years in Millstreet did like their sports and did enjoy their grog
And they shlauned peat to warm their family homes in Winter in early Summer in Gneeves mountain bog
Around their fire grates on nights in the depths of Winter current affairs were discussed and other things they did recall
Such as politics and sporting greats and of great teams and games of hurling and gaelic football
They told stories of the War of Independence in Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow such as the ambush at Tureengarriffe Glen
Of a battle celebrated and often written about of the bravery of Sean Moylan and his men
And of the civil war days in Ireland when many brothers even became foes
In a tragic time in the history of Ireland that only added to a Nation's woes
In Ireland the changes keep on happening on the first decade of the twenty first century
The black and Tan War and the Civil War are now an all but faded memory
And modern machinery harvests the peat in the high bogland of Gneeves today
And more changes come with every generation suppose that it has always been this way
And most of the grown men of my boyhood years now with the departed of the Parish lay
And the now is all that really seems to matter as those of wisdom have been known to say.

'Tis True Money

'Tis true money cannot buy happiness though it can buy one a good time
And though to be cash poor in the book of the law is not classified as a crime
I'd rather be unhappy and have plenty of money than be unhappy and poor any day
'Tis true money speaks every language and it always has been this way
Those who say money is not important never seem to make much sense to me
Only a living saint or one of that kind would ever embrace poverty
If you cannot be happy with heaps of money for lack of it you'd live in misery
In our lives it is quite important and that's how it will always be
You may not like the cashed up and famous but they are the people who have it all
Though the furthest you climb up the success ladder the further you have for to fall
With little money some are moderately happy though with more they'd feel happier by far
The millionaire drives a mercedes the poor one cannot afford a car
'Tis true money cannot buy happiness though to that most would say that's nothing new
The happy cashed up in the many the happy poverty stricken in the few.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Those Who See Me As Inferior

Those who see me as inferior i see them as the same
That's treating others as they treat you for want to it of a better name
But to those who treat me as an equal in return equal respect to them i do pay
Treat others as they treat us we ought to live that way.

To anyone i've never been nasty at least not deliberately
But if others without provocation and on purpose say nasty things of me
In return they can expect from me as good as they did give
Though i am one who do beleive on to live and let live

Some who look up to the privileged class on the poor tend to look down
There are plenty of such kind out there in every village, city and town
People who cannot see the beauty in the fair go for all
They are so narrow minded and in their ways very small

If you are rude to someone expect that someone to you
In return pay the disrespect that surely is your due
It really is not that hard at all for one to make a foe
In life what we give we do receive does happen to be so.

Old Claraghatlea By Millstreet Town

In Claraghatlea by Millstreet Town my life journey began
And there i lived my youthful years and grew into a man
And there my love for Nature as a boy began to grow
Yet the more i learn of her so little about her i know i know

When the cold winds of Winter across the fields do blow
Old Clara on the higher ground wears his white hat of snow
But April brings her greenery and nesting birds commence to sing
The workings of Mother Nature is an amazing thing

Where the stream from the high fields to the Cails waters flow
To Claraghatlea by Millstreet Town the Seasons come and go
Many i went to school with the grandparents of today
Time does not wait for anyone it ticks and ticks away

Old Claraghatlea by Millstreet Town it was my first home-place
But there today to many mine would be a stranger's face
The babies born when i left there are now in their life's prime
Like me they too will come to know that we become victims of time

In fancy in leafy groves by Millstreet Town in the Spring wind and rain
The nesting birds in the gray dawn are singing once again
And to Claraghatlea i will return when the Summer days are near
When the countryside looks lush and green in the late Spring of the year.

The Young Bloke Daydreams

The young bloke day-dreams of new and great adventures in places from his home-town far away
He vows to himself i'll see the big World out there not like mum and dad did stay here grow old and gray
The wanderlust in his young heart is stirring his mind not here his thoughts often elsewhere
Next Spring at eighteen his birth home he'll be leaving to see some of the bigger World out there
His mum and dad in their forties quite happy but to them he looks at life quite differently
They are happy in their sedentary existence the bigger World they never wish to see
Even in their teens and twenties the bug of wander was not in them we all are different as some like to say
The son looking forward to his World travels the wanderlust growing in him by the day
The life journey for everyone seems different some travel far and wide some stay at home
Some with no desire to see the World's great Cities such as Delhi, New York, Tokyo or Rome
What does suit one will never suit the other some in their home-town live out their life span
Whilst others they are born for to travel a sedentary existence not in their life plan
From his mum and dad the young bloke very different he will join the ranks of the nomadic race
He does not have the strong sense of attachment as many seem to have for the home-place.

Monday, November 15, 2010

The Greatest Of Them All

Many refer to themselves as poet that's a distinguished title though their words on them have a use by date
There are many writers in the World millions though few the masses wish to celebrate
As for me i'm just another simple rhymer 'tis easy very easy to pen rhyme
I penned my first rhymes at the age of twenty seven and that is going back more than three decades in time

Still inspiration never seems to leave me though my worth as a rhymer i do doubt
'Tis true from life we never do stop learning and always something for to write about
The beauty of Nature is all around me and everywhere i turn to look i see
The wonders of our Earth Mother's creations she re-invents herself eternally

There is no greater Earthly force than Nature she is the World's only super power
The one with the strength to flatten the greatest human buildings creates lovely things of beauty like a flower
Us humans live for awhile she lives forever her ocean waters ever lapping on the shore
We are born to die like all of her life forms but Nature she lives on forever more.

There are many self proclaimed writers in the World and many self proclaimed artists as well
As for me i'm just an ordinary rhymer though i too have my own stories for to tell
And like many i do live in awe of Nature of all of the greats the greatest of them all
She re-invents herself and lives forever and for all of us there is a final Fall.

Birds From Once Familiarized With

I wake to the voices of birds every day
Most of them by their songs or their chirps to their identity a give away
The voices of the house sparrows one could never mistake
They chirp all day long to nightfall from daybreak
The flute of the Aussie magpie so pleasant to hear
The black and white bird who sing every day of the year
The song of the blackbird can be heard in the Spring
For to proclaim their borders the male birds do sing
The harsh squawking of the white cockatoo and long drawn out cawing of the pale eyed crow
Species by their voices that everyone does know
And though many species of birds are familiar to many as well as to me
There's far more to the bird than one does hear and see
Most of them familiar to many by their chirp, call or song
Birds from once familiarized with one cannot get wrong.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Life Is Quite Fair To Some

Life is quite fair to some and to some only there are many who have been to hell and back
The gods of luck do never seem on their side though to keep living courage is something they do not lack
I pay no heed to those who talk of life choices since life choices to everyone do not apply
Since circumstance of birth it is a known fact the right to a fair go many do deny
How can we expect some people for to like us when we steal the wealth resources of their Land
That they mistrust us for our sense of values should not be that hard for us to understand
For the wealthy to grow wealthier so many must grow poorer in a fair Human World it would not be this way
And with the sharp increase in the human population in the World we do live in of today
Far too many obliged to live destitute of money in their sad lives of homeless poverty
Compared to them i do feel very lucky though i am not money wealthy or may never be
Life it is fair to some but not to many the gap between the haves and have nots keeps growing ever wide
By circumstance of birth or by bad fortune of a fair go far too many are denied
So many grow poorer due to the greed of others in their sad lives they struggle for to cope
And the only thing that seems to keep them living is that for better things in life they live in hope.

Most Poor People

Most poor people not poor of their own making in life they've never really had a chance
It would seem the gods of luck are all against them they were born to be victims of circumstance
Born in the poor suburbs of the big towns and cities and born in war zones children of Earthly Hell
The few of them who get to tell their stories do have the saddest stories for to tell
Of homelessness, hunger and disappointment on the poor streets of the poor side of the town
The only thing they have left are their daydreams their fading hopes of riches and renown
The people you never see at the races they cannot even afford op shop clothes
You never see them in expensive restaurants the lives they live are not the lives they chose
The people born in war zones and drought ravaged Countries the Stateless and the homeless refugees
Their poor diet and exposure to the elements leave them weak and vulnerable to disease
I feel for them in their poor lives of hardship they surely do know of real poverty
Compared to them i do feel very lucky the gods have been so much kinder to me
Most poor people are born of poor parents that poverty breeds poverty seems sad to say
In a fair Human World things would be so much different people would not have to live in such a way.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Rock And Roll In Millstreet

We are told that the now is all that matters though on memory lane i often take a stroll
The moment has me in the Town of Millstreet back in the heady days of rock and roll
It was a time of change the nineteen fifties Bill Haley had them rocking round the clock
The new dance craze was spreading in the World and young people to it everywhere did flock

At a dance in the famous Star Ballroom rock and roll was introduced to Millstreet Town
By two young locals Jim Cashman and Fiona Hickey they did enjoy their moment of renown
It was i believe an impromptu performance of a new dance craze started on a distant shore
During a quick step tune the young dance goers of Millstreet witnessed something they had never seen before.

The other dancers stopped to watch Jim and Fiona as they jived and danced around the ballroom floor
The new dance craze had made it's way to Millstreet they ended their performance to a huge encore
I was too young then for to go to dances though of what others told me of it i do know
That the lad from Tullig and the girl from Liscreagh of rock and roll did put on a great show.

On looking back the years did go so quickly and fleeting indeed is the human prime
Since then there has been so many dance crazes and few things ever stay the same in time
No dances now held in the famed Star Ballroom and those who danced there showing their years in gray
But i retain the memories of old stories of years ago from places far away

A story i remember from the fifties of music and dance two of the foods of the soul
When the young Jim Cashman and Fiona Hickey showed Millstreet dancers how to rock and roll
'Tis true enough the now is all that matters though in memory we are linked to the past
And we ought to feel grateful for our gift of memory for as long as such a gift with us does last.

On Nature

The beauty of Nature is all around me and everywhere i turn i hear and see
The small birds chirping amongst the dense bushes and the magpie fluting on a tall gum tree
And Nature to me is the greatest teacher from her i learn something every day
But we will never learn of her secrets from us she keeps them well hidden away
I cannot claim to know that much of Nature the more i learn of her i realize little i know
Of her ways she's the only real World superpower and my wonder of her only seems to grow
She feeds us all the source of our existence yet respect to her we never seem to pay
Our greatest friend yet we choose to abuse her and that does seem a sad thing for to say
We dig her ground and rob her of her riches her diamonds and her silver and her gold
To satisfy our greed we do violate her we do not grow wiser we only grow old
But she does outlive all of her life forms and her life forms does include us human kind
She is the World's only true immortal a way to live forever we will never find
Yes she is the World's only true immortal the only one who will live forever more
She outlives all of us her brightest life forms that is something you would have heard said before.

Friday, November 12, 2010

That's How It Seems To Me

Some twenty first century literary critics try to tell us song is not poetry
And those they laud as poets do write in abstract prose
They have taken poetry from the workings classes
Though they are entitled to their opinions one must suppose

Gone are the days of the old fashioned rhymers
A rhymer nowadays would not know of fame
In literature as in all things changes keep on happening
And few things as we know do stay the same

When i was young in the Duhallow Town of Millstreet
At a horse fair there i heard a traveller sing
A marvellous old song known as 'Afton Waters'
Such joy the music and the words to me did bring

An old man said this is a song of Robert Burns
Written by him some eighteen decades ago
He is the National Bard of his Land Scotland
His words live on and in death his legend grow

Perhaps some of the modern literary critics would have the cheek
To dismiss Burns as a simple rhymer not a major poet
Though he remains as a literary great of Scotland
And his words the masses love to sing and quote.

With what most of the twenty first century critics on rhymers do say
I for one moment could never agree
If a good rhymer is not a poet there are no poets at all
At least anyway that's how it seems to me.

Because I Love To Write

I do not write rhymes for money or glory
I only write because i love to write
And it bothers me none if the stuff i have written
Is not the type that readers do read or recite

I live far south of where i first saw daylight
From where the life's journey for me began
In Claraghatlea in view of old Clara Mountain
Where i lived as a boy and grew into a man

I thought that i had lost migrant nostalgia
Only for to learn that thought had proved me wrong
I do admit to for yearning for what has been
Whenever i do hear an Irish song

For twenty four years i have lived out of Ireland
And in twenty four years there is many a night and day
I am getting on in years into my sixties
And time on me keeps ever ticking away

Doubtless it is a changed place Millstreet in Duhallow
And not many people there i now would know
But in my dreams the Finnow River is babbling
And i hear the harsh cawing of the silver backed crow

I write for the love of it and little else more
And for many years i have been a rhyming buff
And still the rhymes to me they do keep on coming
I am one who has penned reams and reams of stuff

I write rhymes because it is something i like doing
And i will go on penning for as long as i can
I would feel a stranger now by Clara Mountain
And here i will always be a migrant man.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

On Rememberance Day

The young men who died in wars from their homelands far away
In some parts of the World are remembered today
By the more patriotic who see war as okay
Yet what did they die for can anyone say?
They could not have died for peace since troops today in battles engaged
And war over borders and God are still waged
The war drums are beating in every war memorial parade
And the blame not all on one side when enemies are made
At the war memorial a bugler the last post does play
On the eleventh of November Rememberance Day
Yet war and it's brutality does not have a use by date
And in every battle more heroes to celebrate
And on Rememberance day in the town by the sea
The National flag at half mast on the town hall i do see.

The Last Rhyme Poet Of Her Suburb

She was the last rhyme poet of her suburb the classic rhymers nowadays seem quite rare
As well as poems she also penned songs and ballads her gifts with others she did share
She lived on her own never gave birth to children or never wished to become any fellow's wife
In her working years a secondary school teacher penning rhyming poetry was her passion in life
She never did yearn for the fame and glory yet through her poetry she became known far and wide
She never sought to make money from her verses yet greatness of her could not be denied
She lived to eighty seven quite a good age amongst the suburbs deceased her remains do lay
Her poems today read and enjoyed by many greatness outlives mortality some say
Her works are musical and quite enlightening she was born with the gift of perfect rhyme
And through her legacy of words she will be long remembered though everything does seem to fade in time
Her songs are sung and her poems often recited in the pubs and social gatherings in the town
In death she is becoming very famous in life she never did know such renown
The last great rhyming poet of the suburb her likes perhaps may not be seen again
Her musical words sung, read and enjoyed by many and memories of her in her works remain.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

If You Are One

If you are one who does laugh away life's worries some will even say with you there's something wrong
They will dismiss you as one who is mentally not right as if seriousness to sanity belong
They cannot see the happiness in laughter joy in their being a thing they do deny
They cannot laugh or see the use in laughter one of life's great gifts 'twould seem has passed them by
Life's short enough you may as well enjoy it three score and ten the average lifetime span
On an average by a few years it is noted that the woman usually does outlive the man
Yet some people do take life very seriously though never short of money they look unhappy most of the time
They seldom smile you never hear them laughing they ought be told that laughter is not a crime
Kathy on our street the mother of seven and eight years old daughters her husband left her a few years ago
One might say she would have reason to feel unhappy but she is not one for to harbour woe
To her laughter always seems to come easy she always has a big smile on her face
Even in the mind of one who has known hard times happiness has been known for to find a place
Some though financially well off are known to shun laughter as if to laugh would be a mortal sin
Whilst to some who have known hard times laughter does come easy they do possess the glow of joy within.

Sanderling In Killarney

The sanderling born and raised in the Arctic i saw them on Killarney beach today
They feasted on sea lice along the tide line and from the incoming waves they turned and ran away
Only to return quickly when the waves had retreated to devour what the ocean had washed in
Each incoming wave brought with it tiny life forms they need to move fast their morsels for to win
One can only marvel at these tiny gray birds each year they travel thousands of miles of sky
From the Arctic they fly far south to coastal Australia and back home once again to breed they fly
For such tiny birds this is a daunting journey twice a year to have to undertake
It remains a mystery how they find their way so far south and their way back home to the Arctic make
On the beach in Killarney in Victoria they do usually arrive in early to mid Spring
And in early Fall depart for the Arctic the workings of Nature is an amazing thing
The sanderlings that i see in Killarney have seen by far more of the World than me
Their journeys take them through so many Countries a lot of beaches in their lives they do see
From Siberia by the cold far northern ocean far south to the sunny southern shore
Than the most travelled person on the Planet of miles the tiny sanderling have travelled more.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

When I Was Young

When i was young my head was full of daydreams i had such silly notions of renown
But my prime years seemed to come and go so quickly in the countryside just west of Millstreet Town
In Claraghatlea in view of Clara Mountain from this great Land thousands of miles of sky
Whenever people ask me where i came from to them my heritage i never do deny
'Tis said by some that our destiny is in our Karma and this indeed may very well be true
In some ways i do believe in such a theory on what i receive from life it is my due
Nowadays from life i do ask very little i wish for to be happy that is all
I want to know the feeling of contentment my expectations of life now are small
I still walk in the fields just west of Millstreet i brought them with me in my memory
And every time i visualize old Clara with the bracken face is beautiful to see
So good to hear again the Finnow waters with ever babbling tongue as it does flow
Through old fields that have long pre-dated people where the rank rushes in great clusters grow
We must live in the now though my wish is to be happy we all do have our links to the past
Time has left me feeling and looking older and the biological clock on me is ticking fast.

Birdsland In November

The kookaburra laughing in the wood at Birdsland and magpie fluting for to greet the day
And the familiar voices of the small green bellbirds like tiny bells tinkling in the dawning gray
The sulphur crested cockatoos on the tall trees always quite noisy at nightfall and daybreak
Snow white with yellow crests quite pretty birds to look at their harsh grating squawks once heard one can't mistake
The water birds with their young swim on the lakes at Birdsland Spring there is such a lovely time of year
So nice to hear the piping of the shrike thrush and the blackbird's song melodious and clear
The white and the straw necked ibis feeding on the wetland with their long bills probing for slugs in the softer ground
A safe haven for wildlife in old Birdsland where many species in numbers abound
Were i a poet i'd write a poem of Birdsland of November in the latter days of Spring
When the daisies and the capeweed are blooming of Nature's praises i do love to sing
From recent rain the high paddocks are at their very finest and Nature resplendent in her cloak of green
I retain great mental pictures of old Birdsland and the beauty in that grand old place i've seen
I may be living many miles from Birdsland but fond memories of the place i do retain
And in fancy with my faitful old dog Jedder i walk the pathways by the lakes again.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Without Trying To Generalize

If you cannot love self you cannot love others that is a fact and facts are true
You give love and love you receive in return what we get from life is our due
What i say here is common knowledge and not anything that is new
Your dog's love is always unconditional though people of that sort are few
To the dangerous dog look no further than it's master since it's master more than likely to it has been cruel
The beatings it has received from it's owner to it's anger towards strangers the fuel
Many may claim i am generalizing and with what i say may not agree
But everyone have their opinion and that is quite okay with me
No doubt we would seem very boring if we all did think in the same way
But on saying that a dangerous dog has an unloving master i do believe in what i say
The dog takes on the master's behaviour and will bite if the opportunity arise
That is the case more often than not without trying to generalize
One ought not to excuse them for their anger because they have drunk too much grog
Many who do seem to lack in self love are known to be cruel to their dog.

Due To The Increase In The Human Population

Due to the increase in the human population it does come as no surprise
That wildlife is becoming rarer yet many fail to realize
That every tree that we do cut down to more extinction does lead
There is far more to Nature far more than in books we do read
You will not find many birds and small animals in a sparsely treed countryside
Such creatures need trees and rank undergrowth from predators in which to hide
The uncalled for destruction of natural habitat is the main cause of wildlife decline
The ignorant one will tell you the fate of the small bird or animal is not any business of mine
Yet due to such an attitude natural habitat we choose to destroy
And in so doing deprive future generations of the pleasure to watch and enjoy
Wildborn creatures in their wild state extinction is forever more
Climate change and habitat destruction putting more pressure on wildlife nowadays than ever before
Removal of hedgerows and trees renders creatures homeless and homeless creatures cannot hope to survive
By our bad environmental practices future generations of enjoyment we deprive.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Lost Innocence

I wish i could have retained my childhood innocence i had lost it long before i reached my prime
It was indeed a thing of inner beauty i have only only grown more cynical with time
As we do age we do garner more knowledge but every thing in life comes at a cost
And from us something beautiful has gone forever that is how it is when our innocence we've lost
In children's eyes the World's a place of wonder what's marvellous to them seems ordinary to you and me
They marvel at what to adults seem quite boring to us they look at things so differently
As we did age we lost our childhood innocence on looking back our young years went too fast
And we lost a special gift a thing of beauty all that remain are memories of the past
The clock ticks on we age with every Season on looking back the years just seemed to fly
Our innocence has gone from us forever and some grow more cynical as time goes by
I wish i could have retained childhood innocence but such a gift with us does not remain
Our expectations of life to children very different our lost innocence we never can regain
I feel nostalgic for my long lost innocence when i hear children laughing at their play
But the past has gone and time keeps ever ticking and only the memories of lost innocence with us stay.

Nora O Donoghue

Nora was a good mother to the Tanyard O Donoghues and to Florry she was a devoted wife
And sad to learn she is no longer with us that she has lost her marvellous gift of life
No more to be seen in the Town of Millstreet near to where she resided for so many years
Where she was one well known and loved by many her passing would have given rise to tears.

As a boy i often saw her in the Town of Millstreet with her shopping bags walking down through Minor Row
She always had a smile for everybody a person everyone did wish to know
The O Donoghue family were built around her to play her role there is none to take her place
Who could forget a warm and friendly person with the glow of kindness on her lovely face.

Millstreet was better for her living in it i only say of her what is her due
She loved her children and she loved her husband and to the higher self she remained true
If everybody could only be like her a better World to live in it would be
Though on in years the loss of a good mother leaves a huge hole in any family.

By Cashman's Hill her remains at rest forever and all is quiet and peaceful where she lay
Of the people I knew as a young man in Millstreet there does not seem too many left today
But in the minds of her friends and her family fond memories of Nora O Donoghue will stay
The mental pictures of her will be living 'tis only the remains go to decay.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

For Our Mistakes

For our mistakes in one way or the other we pay
But from life we do learn a little every day
Many good friendships due to money have not been known to last
And such a bond from once severed can become a thing of the past
When in one way we give in another we gain
But for as long as the gift of memory we retain
The facts tell us so and facts never lie
That we never stop learning till the day that we die
The theory of a Universal Karma seems authentic to me
Though with such an assumption many may not agree
The way we treat others in good or bad Karma becomes our due
I only say here what i think to be true
Your ideas on this may be different to mine
But that is your business and that suits me fine.

South Western Victoria

In Kirkstall in the Summer the paddocks are brown
That stretch on to Koroit on to Warrnambool town
But in the rains of Spring everywhere looks so green
In a flat beautiful landscape for miles to be seen
From Woolsthorpe to Hawkesdale the paddocks flat and wide
A sheep, beef and dairy cattle countryside
And further on in Penshurst miles of unploughable ground
Where stones from Kolor's volcanic eruptions visibly abound
The beauty of South West Victoria in it's varying scenery
In every ten miles you travel there is something new to see
Hamilton, MacArthur, Mt Eccles and Port Fairy seem different in every way
I only write of what is common knowledge what others often say
Of Western Victoria from the Volcanic Mountains to the sea
It is a varying landscape as varying as can be.

Friday, November 5, 2010

'Tis Cold Today Back There By Clara Mountain

'Tis cold today back there by Clara Mountain 'tis cold indeed quite cold enough to snow
The deciduous trees of their leaves almost denuded and cold Autumn winds across the old fields blow
The stream from Claramore in brown flood waters through Claraghatlea bank high to join the flooded Cails does flow
And journey on to meet the swollen Finnow in wet fields where the rushes rank do grow.

The swallows from Duhallow have departed in the warmer Southern Country they do fly
To chase the flying insects their only food source all day long in the blue and sunny sky
Whilst in the high fields by old rugged Clara the redwings from the Northlands far away
Are calling in the coldness of the morning the low dark clouds tell of more rain today.

In the farmyard the hungry cattle bellow to tell the farmer they need to be fed
Until the Spring brings new grass to the old fields they will be confined in their wintering shed
In the late Fall the Winter fast approaching 'tis not a very pleasant time of year
The winds of rain soughing in the naked beech trees and birdsong is a thing one does not hear.

'Tis cold today back there by Clara Mountain with few leaves left on the deciduous trees
In weather wet and cold and far from pleasant a forecast high of only five degrees
In Claraghatlea the stream bank high is flowing and water gurgling in the roadside drain
And low dark clouds and wind soughing in the beech trees give warning of impending heavy rain.

Marginalized People

Marginalized people are increasing in number and that seems a sad thing for to have to say
As the gap between the haves and the have nots keeps on widening in the Human World that we live in today
In a fairer World things would be very different there would not be this thing known as poverty
Some of the wealthy do yearn to be wealthier this does seem so very much like greed to me
The majority of the wealth of the World as we all know is in the command of the privileged few
This is a known fact of life that i speak of you may say that i am not saying anything that is new
One cannot blame a poor person for feeling despondent and saying that life is so very unfair
When so many poor people do seem to grow poorer for the creation of a new millionaire
In every town and village and city and in every part of the big world out there
Marginalized people to say the least many millions of them and they live everywhere
Not only in the many third World Countries but in the so called wealthy Nations as well
People condemned to spend their lives in penury struggling to survive in their Earthly Hell
The paupers the homeless and the misplaced people the economic and climate and war refugees
And the billions of have nots all around the World affected by poverty in varying degrees.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

I Cannot Expend Energy

I cannot expend energy on disliking others though dislike in itself is not a crime
With my time i have things for to do better and disliking one does seem a waste of time
Just live and let live seems a better idea if you do not like one leave that person be
Those i do not like in some ways than me are better at least that is how it does appear to me
Not everyone you know can be your good friend i'm only saying what i know here to be true
The bond of good friendship is something that is special and from life we receive what only is our due
Yet i cannot waste time in disliking of others i just want to live life and forget and forgive
Life is far too short to be wasted on negative energy i just want to be happy for as long as i live
I do know of people who are very bitter on someone they do not like revenging their mind
The anger they feel it keeps bubbling within them i can only feel sorry for them and their kind
I want to be happy and live free of anger since anger does seem to eat happiness away
For those i do not like i do not hold grudges though any kind things of me they do not have to say
And die without pain in my sleep as an old man is all i ask of life and little else more
Those who have sinned against me i can only forgive with them i will not try for to even the score.

Noel Healy

Noel was one of the Curracahill Healys born and raised near the old Town of Millstreet
He was a nice and quiet and gentle fellow and always quite a pleasure for to meet
In Millstreet earth his remains at rest forever for all of us there is a final Fall
But in the thoughts of those who knew him he will live on as a person who is worthy of recall
Noel Healy never yearned for Earthly glory he lived his life in his unassuming way
'Twould be a better World to live in if everyone were like him of him that would seem a fair thing to say
At others expense he never sought advantage with life's small blessings he was satisfied
He will be missed by friends and family and relations and from Millstreet Town and Millstreet countryside
He did not live on to a very old age in the flesh in Curracahill never more to be seen
But in the minds of those who loved and knew him memories of him will remain as evergreen
Though life goes on the past we do remember and memories of good people readily come to mind
And Noel Healy surely was a decent person in our Human World we need more of his kind
It can be said of him he was a good man in his life he never harmed anyone
A credit to his mother and his father in him they surely did raise a good son.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Up The Distant River

Up the distant river in the cold damp gray of a November dawn
The salmon swim against the strong currents to spawn
To the gravelly river fords in the fields by the town
As yesterday's flood that flowed bank high goes down
They run the gauntlet of poacher's gaff and spear
But their natural desire for their species survival outweighs mortal fear
Weakened from their long journey danger to them lurks near
At the end of their strength sapping swim in the Fall of the year
The natural instincts to pass on their genes in them remains strong
As against the strong currents they battle along
In the gravel beds of the fords their eggs they do lay
And their young too will swim to saltwater one day
From overnight frost the river-side fields are gray
As the salmon to their breeding fords battle their way.

Only The Winner

The winner of course was the best on the day
And as usual was the recipient of the loud hooray
But for one for to win many do have to lose
Though that is something anyone does not choose
The winner does smile with a satisfied grin
For everyone seems to love you when you win
'Tis hard to stay humble when the cheers for you ring loud
When you do have some reason for to feel proud
Though by the better one on the day you have been beat
'Tis not very easy to smile in defeat
Of the lion's share of the glory the winner none can deny
You did not take the big prize though hard you did try
The great sense of joy that winning does create
And only the winner the fans celebrate.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Of That Why Should I Lie

I do enjoy rhyming i pen rhymes every day
To write simple stuff seems my natural way
So few make a career out of writing and for their effort receive any pay
Writing can be a hungry belly game as some are known to say
Writers who make millions from writing to say the least few
You may say to that tell us something that's new
I only say here what i know to be true
If you write expecting to make millions disappointment may be your due
In my young years i used to daydream i would be a poet
In the Literary World a writer of note
But they were enjoyable my daydreams of fame
And life it does go on for me just the same
I pen rhymes for enjoyment of that why should i lie
And i hope to keep doing it till the day i do die.

The Legends Do Come And The Legends Do Go

Admired and looked up to by many time is their only foe
The legends do come and the legends do go
But the stream from the mountain by ditch and hedgerow
To the ocean bound river forever does flow
So fleeting our childhood and fleeting our prime
The human life span seems just a blink in time
The biological clock ever keeps ticking fast
The ageing walking slower one who used to walk fast
The famous like the non famous live their last night and day
They too born to die for that is Nature's way
Before we realize it our best days have gone
People like the Seasons come and go but Nature lives on
And Nature's mountain born stream with the tongue that is never still
To the distant river babbling down the hill.