On Ego

Everybody has ego and this is bar none
And this is to be found even in the most humble one
But those with an under control ego are always okay
Since they do not need their photos to be taken every day
In those who like to be the center of attention the ego is strong
And there is nothing worse than an ego gone wrong
Far too many stories of their achievements with others the egotistical like to share
In an age when down to earth people are becoming more rare
Big egos on self praise never fail for to thrive
Young males in the pub boast of their sexual drive
Self promotion nowadays has become an in thing
So many their own praises do love to sing
And so many to boast of self far too inclined
One can say of ego it is all in the mind.

Lex McLennan

Lex McLennan was a farmer's son from the Bathurst countryside of New South Wales
One destined to become famous as a writer of bush stories, poems and tales
He grew to love the workings of Nature when he was a young boy
And to those who love the ways of country life his writings remain as a source of joy

His excellent poems The Last Piker and The Dingo Chaser have outlived the death of rhyme
Poems today that are even more popular than in their author's lifetime
He was one who did love Mother Nature and of her ways much did know
And though deceased for many decades fans of his poetry in numbers grow

Lex McLennan wrote the ballads that will live for centuries
Great poems that found their inspiration in his boyhood memories
One of the last great writers of Australian bush ballads of him one can truly say
His writings of Nature quite insightful and with words he had a way

As a writer of bush ballads greatness of him cannot be denied
Lex McLennan learned of Nature in the wide brown countryside
Those who like his sort of poetry as fans of his poems remain
Just reading them great insights of some of Nature's ways one does gain.

Friendly People

I feel lucky in life in truth i can say
In the beautiful people i meet every day
Every stranger to me who greets me with a smiling face
Is surely an ambassador for the human race
Such joy to their surroundings friendly people do bring
Of their praises i always feel happy to sing
Wherever they are at joy is to be found
They carry it with them and spread it around
They greet you as if you are one they like and know
People like they are have the inner glow
Down to earth and friendly without trace of guile
The joy in their being bubble as they do smile
Happiness is with them walking the street
Such beautiful people a pleasure to meet.

Since You Never Harm Anyone

Since you never harm anyone in any way
Why worry what some who know of you of you have to say
Unpaid judges like they are to be found everywhere
There are millions of their sort in the big World out there

They do criticize you for your lack of financial success
That your finances are in a terrible mess
But for the food that you eat they do not pay
And unkind things of others they also do say

Some do believe they are born free of taint
Their sort even find flaws in a living saint
Of their sort's approval of you should not feel in need
And of their judgmental opinions of you why pay any heed

In their narrow views to the financially successful only credit they give
Their sort never believe on live and let live
You never harm anyone in word or in deed
And for your future good karma you plant the good seed.

Good Men

Good men have been found dead hanging from the branch of a tree
And good men have drowned in the depths of the sea
And good men are murdered or die in acts of terrorism every day
And good men breathe their last in war from home far away
And what goes for good men goes for good women as well
Though only the living has tragic stories of life for to tell
The dead of their worries by death have been set free
Life's Reaper too will pay a visit to me
The dead never hear when their praises are sung
And sadly many good people born to die young
And in despicable acts of terrorism it does seem sad to say
That the good for the sins of the bad seem to pay
Many good young men die young and many good young women as well
Stories of a long lived life they never lived for to tell.

Bully

It Is not The praises of the universal god the Rowdy gang does sing
But of big broad shouldered Bully their leader and their king
When Bully was in prison without him the gang seemed lost
The enforced absence of their leader to them came at a cost

Two years ago locked in prison for bashing senior constable Ray
For assaulting a member of the law the price is always big to pay
But prison did not break bully or reform him in any way
The physically powerful leader of the Rowdy gang remains as one to be feared today

Those bashed and robbed by the Rowdy gang do not report it to the police out of fear
That to do so could be signing their death warrant to them does seem obviously clear
So they suffer in silence since they do know and realize
That to file a complaint to the police to serious consequences for them to could give rise

Big Bully the leader of the Rowdy gang does live up to his name
As one who has earned his reputation through his acts worthy of shame
When he was behind prison bars his gang were not the same
Without their fearsome leader they did seem rather tame.

The President

The President a hero to people in places far and wide
And admired and looked up to by many as the Nation's pride
In his public appearances the huge crowds they did chant his name
And he smiled and waved to them in the joy of his fame
A tall and handsome man in his late fifties the gray in his hair was dyed brown
Few like him are born to know of such adulation and renown
Narcissistic in his ways fame to him a sense of pride and delight
His photos on billboards quite a common sight
The Nation's literary greats to write of him in glowing terms were inspired
By so many people he was loved and admired
But the one who does not respect money or fame
And treats everyone as exactly the same
In a massive heart attack the President of his gift of life denied
And this is how the man who was loved by so many died.

Penshurst In July

Low clouds above Mt Rouse it is foggy and gray
It is wintry weather in Penshurst today
With the chill of July in the freshening breeze
And an air temperature high of a cool seven degrees
A volcanic history one of it's claims to renown
With an old rustic charm Penshurst's country Town
In the paddocks of Penshurst volcanic rocks and stones abound
No crops can be grown in unplowable ground
In Penshurst July is mostly a cold and wet time of year
But the warbling songs of the magpies are always pleasant to hear
Where life it is lived at a leisurely pace
In Penshurst Town in the Southern Grampians not a touristy place
Signs of past Mt Rouse volcanic eruptions can be seen for miles around
In the volcanic rocks and stones on the unplowable ground.

On The T V Footage Of The Don Dale Abuse Scandal

Systematic abuse of young indigenous offenders in Northern Territory jails has become an Australian shame
And this is only for want of it of a better name
This is what happens when the strong armed to run prisons by a law and order State Government are authorized
At such shocking breaking news one should not feel too surprised

That the children of Australia's first people the original owners of this great Southern Land
Are being abused in such a manner seems beyond one to comprehend or understand
The brutal punishment of jailed teenagers seen on t v is an Australian disgrace
The cruel hearted bullies caught on camera bashing teenagers a lengthy jail term themselves should face

The Australian Prime Minister has ordered a Royal Commission on this suppose better than never late
In this the Northern Territory Government have only brought shame on Australia's largest non State
It only gives rise to violence and physical abuse law and order gone wrong
To the N T Government for the physical abuse by their employees against inmates much of the blame does belong

The t v footage of jailer bullies in Don Dale jail bashing teenagers has gone Worldwide
Just one more bad result for those on the wrong side of the social divide
Bullies who are invested with power over others can behave in a disgraceful way
This is what happens when the foxes are put in charge of the fowl shed in truth one can say.

Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson knew of wealth and fame
And Michael Jackson also knew of shame
One lauded in song, story and rhyme
And arguably the greatest entertainer of his time
Doubtless quite an extraordinary man
Though his was not a long life span
Biggest star of his era in the U S of A
In his fiftieth year of life he passed away
Mourned by his millions of fans Worldwide
For them it was sad news indeed to learn that their hero had died
Not found guilty though for crimes against children he was tried
Yet greatness of him could never be denied
Michael Jackson knew of wealth and fame
And he too had his brush with shame.

She Is Smiling On Me

I have been lucky in life never known of much ache or pain
And i have no reason as such to complain
Unlike the millions out there who must live and sleep rough
Compared to them i have never known of it tough
In a World where millions of people go hungry every day
I feel lady luck has been smiling my way
Millions of people in life of succeeding do stand little chance
Their future mapped for them by their birth circumstance
Only the praises of the wealthy and famous the impressionable do sing
And even poverty can be a relative thing
In a World where many are poor for every millionaire
People in extreme poverty nowadays in wealthy Countries are not even rare
Compared to them i am lucky as lucky as can be
And i feel lady luck she is smiling on me.

In My Travels

In my travels i have walked on many a street
And people of many nationalities and races every day i do meet
There are good and not so good people in every race and creed
And in humanity no such a thing as a superior breed
There are good people in every race and color of black, white and brown
In every city and village and in every town
But sadly for the crimes of one member of a race the judgmental tend to generalize
Some in their idea of a fair go on a fair go to all does not apply
And of respect to those who are different to them they choose to deny
That discrimination is wrong the point they do miss
But then suppose to their sort ignorance can be bliss
There are good and not so good people in every race
And for racism in the World there should not be a place.

In Illowa Today

In the overcast sky the sun hidden away
It is windy and raining in Illowa today
The chill winds of July blow from Gormans Bay
And the farmers no longer for rain need to pray
The paddocks are looking quite grassy and green
Young calves and lambs with their mothers in numbers to be seen
With the desire strong in them new life to create
Many of Nature's creatures of the same species bond and copulate
The nest building birds do chirp, whistle and sing
Their first brood will be fully fledged and flying in the early Spring
The white backed magpies sing night and day at this time of year
Their warbling songs in the moonlight such a joy for to hear
In Illowa between Warrnambool city and old Koroit Town
The rain from the gray sky is drizzling down.

So Lucky Are Those

So lucky are those who have the inner glow
They reap the good karma in life they do sow
The kind and generous who truly believe
That they were born into life for to give to receive
For the betterment of humanity they plant the good seed
Of more people like them the Human World is in need
In the twenty first century when self promotion has become an in thing
And the praises of the wealthy greedy the impressionable masses do sing
There is far more to life than living for me, myself and i
Success based on the accumulation on money for the furtherance of self is based on a lie
A poor one of mind the multi millionaire
Who keeps wealth for self and does not know how to share
So lucky are they who do believe
That they were born into life for to give to receive.

A July Day In Port Fairy

The sun intermittently shines in the sky blue and gray
But in Port Fairy it is cold, wet and windy today
Yesterday for Winter it was warm and dry
The weather changes quickly in the southern July
On a windblown wattle a white backed magpie sing
His kind sing at night from mid Winter to Mid Spring
The flute like warbling song quite melodious and clear
Of these birds who do sing every day of the year
How strong and loud the cold blustery Winter winds do blow
Where the Moyne River near Griffith Island to the Pacific flow
On a wet and windy afternoon of a cool five degrees
With the calls of the magpie larks carrying in the breeze
In July the weather changes from day to day
In south western Victoria it is always this way.

Where Mine To Many Nowadays

Where mine to many nowadays would not be a known face
But it will always remain to me as my favorite place
Claraghatlea my birthplace by the Town of Millstreet
In the green countryside where the waterways meet

Where i first saw light of day and the journey in life for me began
And from a young child i grew into a man
And forged many friendships and penned my first rhyme
My love for the home-place has not faded in time

Where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
I only have memories now of Millstreet Town
And the people i knew there who are aging like me
One cannot physically return to the what used to be

Six weeks from the birth of the calendar Spring
Today in Illowa the magpies do sing
And my thoughts are of a green place far away
Where i first looked on the bright lamp of day.

The Great Equalizer

In a Human World where winners many like to celebrate
There is a huge difference between good and great
The good wins the bronze or the silver the great wins the gold
But one thing we all share in common we all do grow old
Millionaire than paupers are and will always be far more rare
But one thing in common that they do share
That for them there will be a last living night and day
Since death the equalizer does work in this way
The moment of reckoning does come to all
To the scythe of life's reaper the greatest does fall
The one who does not respect money or fame
The reaper of lives treats everyone as the same
The wealthy and famous many may celebrate
But on every life the reaper has a use by date.

He Lives In Regret

His son and daughter in their early twenties close to their lives prime
And he and his wife in their early fifties showing the wear of time
As a younger man he daydreamed of adventure elsewhere
And of living and working in the big World out there

He fell in love with a local girl and home he did stay
But the love he felt for her then he does not feel today
Still working in the same job he worked in three decades ago
And time that rusts iron has become his foe

He and his wife are still living under the one roof
But living in the same house of love is never proof
Not on speaking terms each other they barely tolerate
And their wedding anniversary they no longer celebrate

His receding hair gray it was a chestnut brown
He has lived all of his life in the old country town
He feels for his years he has little to show
And a life out of his hometown of he will never know

He lives in regret of the what might have been
Like to live in places on t v he only has seen
The man out of love who in the hometown did stay
Who used to daydream of places far away.

As Is Said

As is said there is even some good in the bad
And we all have a mum and we all have a dad
And many are victims of bad birth circumstance
To succeed in life they do stand little chance
Survival is success for the financially down
Who have only known of life in the poor side of the town
Their children like them born in poverty
To only know of the hard life seems their destiny
Where the homeless are many and poverty is rife
Few live for to see their fourth decade of life
So many losing out in the social divide
As the gap between the wealthy and the poor keeps growing ever wide
In a Human World where losers are many and winners are few
I am not telling you anything that is new.

His Suitability For The Top Job

His suitability for the U S top job many do rightfully doubt
For a lot of racist and sexist words comes out of his mouth
In November 2016 only Hillary Clinton stands in his way
Of him becoming President of the U S Of A

Donald Trump could become the first openly racist and sexist President how sad this would be
For the Land of the brave and the home of the free
By his own words big Donald as a person seems small
His idea of a fair go is not of a fair go for all

Of Mexicans and Muslims and women he does not have nice things to say
His words may well cost him on Election day
For years he has been dreaming of becoming American President but his dreams may not come true
For it seems highly likely that defeat may be his due

His racist rants may well prove his political downfall
Across the Mexican U S border he says he will authorize the building of a wall
On the banning of Muslim emigration to the U S he has vowed a decree
That exclusion does cause resentment would you not agree?

That Hillary Clinton will become the first female President of the U S of A
In the November 2016 Presidental Election is looking this way
By his racist and sexist comments Donald Trump his dream of becoming President has all but destroyed
Which will be deflationary to his huge ego and a dent to his pride.

Till The Day We Do Die

Today in the fields where the Blackwater flow
Among the rank rushes the cock pheasant crow
And a musical speck in the gray of the sky
The mottled brown skylark does sing as he fly

On a balmy day in the Summer in the prime of July
The dark cormorant out of water stretches her wings out to dry
On my flights of fancy such beauty i see
I left the old fields but the fields followed me

The sun shining bright in the sky blue and gray
And plump cattle on lush grass chewing their cuds lay
The dark barn swallows in pursuit of flying insects as they fly do sing
Migratory birds who do spend most of their waking hours on the wing

Old memories remain in me as a source of joy
Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
Where the chirps and songs of some birds i came to know
And my wonder of Nature today only grow

The past may be gone but the memories of it remain
And in fancy i often visit Duhallow again
Those who say the past has gone believe in their own lie
As the past will be in us till the day we do die.

The Words Of A Wise Person

The words of a wise person i do recall
In life you may win some but you cannot win them all
For one to win others lose it is this way
And there are winners and losers in life every day
For a few wealthy people many in poverty
This is how it is and it always will be
Some say one door open when another does close
There are many an up and down in life one has to suppose
By their circumstance of birth many people of a fair go in life are denied
The people who do not have a god on their side
The reaper of lives treat all people as the same
The lives of the poor and those of wealth and fame
In life you may win some but you cannot win them all
And to the scythe of the reaper everyone eventually does fall.

Old Rodney

The best days in his life in the forever gone
But the desire it is in him to keep living on
Old Rodney loves life and he has no wish to die
To him heaven and hell are based on a lie
He wants to live on for as long as he can
And die in his sleep without pain as a very old man
Of a life after death and of a heaven or hell
He says any deceased person he has known of their existence has not come back to tell
In his late seventies he has never had children or a partner or a wife
Though in his younger days he had many women in his life
He looks fit and healthy for one of seventy nine
And he enjoys nothing better than a carafe of red wine
And at the local on Saturday night in the mood for song
He feels happy to join in the pub sing along.

Malcolm Is For Malcolm

A million dollars out of his own bank account to re-elect himself as Australia's Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull did spend
Though this is not in the least surprising as Malcolm is not or never will be the poor person's friend
That Malcolm is for Malcolm is not saying anything that is new
It is known that his friends are only among the privileged few
By the way he does speak there is not a shadow of a doubt
That Malcolm and his government does not care anything about
The extreme poor, the homeless, the refugees and the down trod
And all of those known as the children of the lesser god
In the recent Federal Election any of the government or main opposition party on poverty had nothing for to say
And for to appease the unsympathetic voters from Australian waters boat Asylum seekers turn away
Malcolm Turnbull a former merchant banker and Australia's Prime Minister and a known multi millionaire
And sad to say people like him nowadays are no longer rare
And most of their sort of those doing it tough do not wish to know
Whilst the extreme poor of the World in numbers grow and grow.

If To Receive

If to receive good karma you plant the good seed
And you are always willing to help one of your helping in need
And you live your life without harming anyone
Then your mum and your dad have raised in you a good daughter or son
You may not be a hero on your side of the town
But you are always willing to help one financially down
It is not out of the kind and compassionate that heroes are made
In their honor there never is a street parade
But your sort of person more value to the Human World than the selfish multi millionaire
Who for self and family and wealthy friends only seem to care
You are one who performs good deeds every day
And to help other people always go out of your way
In karma you are one of those who do believe
And in life those who do give can expect to receive.

The Great And The Mighty

The great and the mighty the big and the small
The scythe of life's reaper claims the lives of all
In that they too are born to eventually die
All other life forms are no different to i
A fact often quoted on which you can depend
No matter what you achieve your life's journey will end
As a hero to many you well may be
Death will come to you as it will come to me
For a human being three score and ten years the average lifetime span
A few years more for a woman than it is for a man
Ten years as young adults and ten years in our lives prime
And eventually we all become victims of time
I just want to live for as long as i can
And in my sleep die without pain as a very old man.

We Learn As We Live

We learn as we live from life every day
And we never stop learning it does seem this way
And the more we do learn the more we realize
That we do know so little this not a surprise
That from life we never stop learning is not a lie
We learn as we live till the day we do die
That life does have it's lessons only true to say
And for our every mistake we have some price to pay
That what we do to others to our own selves we do
Applies to everyone and this includes me and you
Those who in their words like dragging others down
Are never among the most popular people in any town
In life the fruits of the karma we sow are our due
And we learn as we live happens for to be true.

The Brucknell Creek

It has been raining for a few hours every day of this week
And swollen in flood waters of brown the old Brucknell Creek
In the eucalyptus woodland of Ralph Illidge Sanctuary towards the Hopkins river flow
The age of the waterways none ever will know
The Brucknell Creek that has inspired story and rhyme
Has been flowing forever in the Seasons of time
On it's long journey to the Hopkins River near Warrnambool to the Pacific Shore
It has been flowing forever and will forever more
By the Brucknell Creek in Summer in the shade of the trees
Australia's first people had their corroborees
But the didgeridoo will not be heard today
Where the Brucknell to the Hopkins babbles on it's way
Swollen by heavy rain where the tall eucalypt grow
In Ralph Illidge Sanctuary the Brucknell Creek crawls along slow.

I Am Just One Of Those

Though without literary fame or the reward of money in pay
I am one of those who writes rhymes every day
With rhyming words i am one who just loves for to play
It does take all types as some are known to say
But i hope to be rhyming till the day i do die
If i did tell you different this would be a lie
I penned my first rhymes in nineteen seventy three
It was my love of rhyme made a rhymer of me
I never refer to myself as a poet
Such a title i leave to those who feel they are worthy of literary note
It is easy to write rhymes as easy as can be
Tea rhymes with sea and bee rhymes with tree
I am just one of those people who enjoy writing rhyme
It is something i have been doing for a very long time.

John D Neenan

As a young man John D Neenan who left Inchaleigh his first home place
For to take part in his late brother Willie's annual memorial race
Back home in Millstreet where his life's journey began
And where from a boy he grew into a man

In track and field and cross country and road races the legend of the Neenan bothers was grown
And far beyond the borders of Duhallow they became widely known
Against the best in Cork, Munster and Ireland with success they did compete
The Neenans in their time the pride of Millstreet

John D as a young man emigrated to the U S of A
The one who ran fast in the nineteen fifties and sixties is aging today
As a boy i see him run in cross country races when he was close to his physical prime
But this is going back the years way back in time

A road race to honor his late brother Willie a renowned athlete for more than a six decades span
On the roadways of Millstreet annually in June is ran
A five mile road race that has many an uphill and down
That has the finish line in Duhallow's Millstreet Town

This year twenty sixteen Willie's brother John D was home from the U S in the race to take part
In the former athlete the yearn to run lives in the aging heart
I see him run in cross country races when i was a boy
And good old memories do live on as a source of joy.

July In Duhallow

Today above the rushy fields where the waterways meet
In the green countryside by the Town of Millstreet
A musical speck in the gray of the sky
The mottled brown skylark sings as upwards he does fly
On a pleasant enough day of twenty degrees
The scent of the freshly cut meadow grass wafting in the breeze
Young birds are chirping in a leafy grove nearby
In the prime of the Summer in the greenness of July
On the hills of the Boggeraghs a natural treat
Whortleberries the tiny blue fruits of the heather delicious to eat
July in Duhallow a nice time of year
In the woods the cooing of the wood pigeons one often does hear
And the song of the dipper can be heard in the rill
That babbles to the river down the fields by the hill.

The Old Man's God

The long lived old fellow he is ninety three
I asked him of god and where his god might be
With a smile he looked towards the sky saying god i do not see
The god i believe in is living in me
He added to the god i believe in i never do pray
The one who lives in me and in me will stay
For as long as i live till my last night and day
I leave it to others to pray to their gods from them far away
The passing of time had left him wrinkled, bald and gray
Time takes care of everyone as the wise one does say
His answers to my questions to me not a surprise
As he had learned from life and time had left him wise
He looked towards the sky saying god there i cannot see
The only god i believe in is living in me.

Compassionate People

Compassionate people they are a rare breed
And of more of their kind the Human World is in need
To help those badly in need of helping they go out of their way
Without asking to be rewarded in monetary pay
Compassionate people have the inner glow
And good people like they are is a privilege to know
On human equality they do believe
The people who give without expecting to receive
Compassionate people are selfless and kind
For to help poor people they are readily inclined
They help the downtrodden and the dispossessed
Those with the gift of compassion are of the truly blessed
They sow their seeds of good karma every day
When to perform good deeds they go out of their way.

A Prisoner Of Her Own Mind

In what is enjoyable to some a great challenge she does find
The woman who lives as a prisoner of her own mind
At parties and social and community gatherings she felt so out of place
That such personal challenges to her she vows she is no longer willing to face
Call it social phobia or call it what you may
These mental struggle with herself she must face every day
She is not a member of any social group or any committee
The life of any party her kind never will be
Though not known to many in the local community
She is devoted to her partner and to her family
Above her social phobia she struggles to rise
It is a huge challenge to her for to socialize
To avoid going to a party any excuse she will find
She lives as a prisoner of her own mind.

The National Flag

To those who believe they have god on their side
The flag of the Nation a symbol of patriotic pride
But pride in national flags is a thing that is Worldwide
And so many because of this in wars have died
Loved and admired by generations of patriots across decades of time
The flag of the Nation inspires song, story and rhyme
Of it's beauty and of what it symbolizes the patriots may brag
But they carry their loyalty in the colors of a flag
National flags similar to the one i see on a flag post today
Were carried by young soldiers in wars far away
Because of their love of the flag many of them died young
They did not live on to hear their praises sung
The flag that is carried in many a street parade
Because of it many war heroes are made.

The Same For The Pauper And The Billionaire

We hear and read of human achievements but why even pretend
That this does really matter at life journey's end
To the wielder of the scythe of death the greatest does fall
Eventually time does take care of us all
It is stating a fact and fact never lie
That us humans are mortals and born to die
And anyone is not irreplaceable as the wise one does say
Everyone has to die life works in this way
Many believe when life from the body has gone
That the soul of the deceased person in some form does live on
In another World a Heaven or a Hell
Though any deceased person of the existence of such places has not come back to tell
The one who wields the scythe of death any life does not spare
The same for the pauper and the billionaire.

Kilcorney's Tom Goggin

In the flesh Kilcorney's Tom Goggin has sung his last song
To a dying breed of singers he was one who belong
He sang the old songs that few know of today
Not many left like him which is sad to say

Kilcorney's Tom Goggin a true gentleman
He was one who never harmed anyone in his long life span
Through the decades of years his friends in numbers had grown
As a singer of old songs he was widely known

Many songs he did sing few had heard of before
And for Tom there was always a call to sing more
A famed voice of Duhallow that will not be heard again
But on tape the good memories of him do remain

Kilcorney's Tom Goggin he just lived to sing
To lovers of old ballads great joy he did bring
He sang for the love of it not for money or fame
And Duhallow without him will not be the same

A likeable person in his own gentle way
In St Colman's Cemetery in Macroom his last remains lay
Singers of old songs like Tom was are becoming rare
He had such a beautiful gift for to share

Old cultures in Ireland have been dying fast
But few things in life as is said ever last
Kilcorney's Tom Goggin he just lived to sing
And to those who love old songs great joy he did bring.

Going Back The Decades

Literary outsiders of the twenty first century the writers of rhyme
By literary experts are dismissed as of another time
Below criticism those who feel they know better say
It does seem that rhyme has known of a better day
There used to be a famous rhymer in every town
Who enjoyed the recognition of local renown
But nowadays this does seem of the distant past
So few things in life ever does seem to last
And few things as is said ever does stay the same
Some of the ignored years ago would have known of fame
A literary in thing many decades ago
That rhyme may have a rebirth well may be so
They used to be famous the writers of rhyme
Going back the decades to another time.

The Silvertail Prime Minister

Of every opportunity of the advancement of himself and his family and his wealthy cronies he does avail
The Prime Minister of the Country the true silvertail
The wealthy side of the town only his government represent
They ignore the plight of the homeless and those struggling to pay rent

The Prime Minister of the Country tells us he was raised by his good dad
When his mum left the family such a tough time he had
But compared to homeless children he did not have it bad
And for his self pitying stories of his childhood for him i cannot say i feel sad

A former merchant banker and a known multi millionaire
For the poor of the Nation he does not seem to care
By his favoring of wealthy people he leaves none in doubt
That the poor of the Nation he does not care about

The gap between the wealthy and the poor only does seem to grow
But of this the leader of the government does not wish to know
Tax breaks to the super wealthy his idea of a fair go
The silvertail Prime Minister the poor person's foe

The person who cannot claim to have one poor person as a mate
To those doing it tough how can one like him relate
The one who never visits the poor side of the town
Would not know how it feels like to be financially down

A friend of the very wealthy but of those who in life have lost their way
The silvertail Prime Minister has nothing to say
Because of his sort millions of people in Countries Worldwide
Of a fair go in life will always be denied.

The Past Goes With Me

Wherever i go to my past goes with me
In my mental images the old fields i do see
The fields i remember with fondness today
From my mind they have never been far away
The memories of long gone Springs with me does stay
Of those old fields resplendent in their wildflowers of May
I retain the marvelous memories of Nature's beauty i have seen
Like the bluebells in bloom on the ditch of bohreen
The past may be gone but the memories remain
And on my flights of fancy i go home again
In the fields where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
And the great gift of memory is a marvelous thing
It does carry me to a far away Spring.

In The Southern July

I have loved Mother Nature since i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
And though my wonder of her it only does grow
So little about her i can claim for to know
But of her i do learn something new every day
In life we never stop learning only true to say
Wherever i turn to look i do see
Her beauty that is everywhere all around me
For mid Winter it is such a very nice day
The sun shining bright in the sky blue and gray
The paddocks looking green after the recent rain
With such pleasant weather one cannot complain
The snow white corellas calling as they fly
On this pleasant day in the southern July.

Denis Kelleher Of Aubane Cross

Such sad news online that i read of today
Denis Kelleher of Aubane Cross from life has passed away
Due to his association with the Aubane and later St John's Gaelic Football Clubs he became widely known
And in Aubane they will grieve him as one of their own

His passing in Aubane will not go without tears
Where he and his wife Noreen had a shop at the cross there for many years
He played with and later managed the Aubane Gaelic Football club as memory recall
Sadly he has died in his early seventies which is not that old at all

In Aubane he was born and lived as a boy and grew into a man
And in the valley in view of Mushera he lived out his life span
And though from the place he did love he is one of the forever gone
Good memories of him in Aubane will live on

In the bonding of the Aubane Community a huge part he did play
Quite loyal to his part of Millstreet Parish of him one can say
To an old Aubane family history his ancestry he could trace
Like his late father Con he was one with a strong sense of place

News of the passing of Denis Kelleher brings back many a good memory
Of the Aubane Gaelic Football team in the what used to be
They played in the Duhallow Championship many years ago
Going way back in time some three decades or so

For all of us there is a last night and day
By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's in Millstreet his last remains lay
Hope his passing from life was a painless release
Denis Kelleher of Aubane Cross may he now rest in peace.

Guns Take The Blame

Those guilty of murder live and die with their shame
It is people kill people though guns take the blame
Guns in the wrong hands a recipe for crime
So many firearm murders across decades of time
In Countries of lax laws of gun control
Mass shootings by firearms has been taking toll
On unarmed people who die in a cruel and a painful way
We hear and we read of such crimes every day
Most of the blame for mass shootings to governments belong
Lax laws on high powered firearms is morally wrong
So many good people have needlessly died
At the hands of bad criminals with high powered firearms in Countries Worldwide
Though the perpetrators of such foul crimes must live and die with their shame
Firearms it does seem are left with the blame.

This Includes Everyone

My biggest achievement in truth does seem small
And scarcely not worthy of mention at all
I live in my own way and do my own thing
And i leave it to others their praises to sing
Success an often used word of the age we live in
Though everyone as said is not born to win
And for one to win others do have to lose
Though losing is a thing only few would choose
To meet some big egos you need not travel far
The nearest pub to you a short drive by car
Their modest successes have gone to their head
In many humility nowadays is dead
Suppose we are what we are this is all we can be
And this includes everyone as well as me.

Giving Tax Breaks To Billionaires

Any government will not save the economy by marginalizing the children of the lesser god
The disadvantaged of the nation the poor and down-trod
And giving tax breaks to billionaires and bankers people of any financial help not in need
It does not help the economy by rewarding the privileged breed
Government for the wealthy does not make for good sense
The wealthy getting wealthier at poor peoples sense
Since the super wealthy their wealth are reluctant to share
The government are not helping the economy by financing the billionaire
And placing the burden of budgetary repair
On the incomes of the working poor and of those on welfare
Government cutbacks on the marginalized only gives rise to crime
So many poor people in jail serving time
Giving tax breaks to billionaires does not make for good economic sense
The wealthy getting wealthier at poor peoples expense.

The Wealthy Getting Wealthier

The gap between the wealthy and the poor keeps on widening by the day
In a fair Human World it would not be this way
For a few for to win so many destined to lose
Though living poor is a thing so few ever would choose
The wealthy getting wealthier and the poor getting poorer though not a surprise
It does seem a bit sad for one to realize
The poor of the human family to be found everywhere
There are millions of them in the big World out there
From drought ravaged regions and war zones every day in their thousands they do flee
The future is so uncertain for every refugee
The workings of humanity seems beyond me to explain
Why somebody's loss becomes somebody's gain
And that one does grow wealthier at another expense
Of this i do struggle for to make any sense.

I Have Been Called

I have been called Francis or Francy or Frank
And though i have never been high in the social rank
I live in my own way and do my own thing
And i never wish of others my praises for to sing
Though rhyming does always come easy to me
A rhymer at best is the best i can be
I am not a poet since poets are of the few
On this i am not saying anything that is new
Far north of this place the journey in life for me began
Where i lived as a boy and grew into a man
In life we win and we lose by the choices we make
And we all have our journeys for to undertake
I am just one of those with words who likes to play
And i add to my numbers of rhymes every day.

The Wise Words Of A Wise Person

The wise words of a wise person i do recall
That your biggest worry to another would seem small
Many have far bigger worries than you
Though you are not or will never be one of the well to do
And though you may feel you are one born not to win
You are luckier than many you have a home to live in
So many poor people are sleeping rough tonight
And for them mere survival is an uphill fight
True enough life for you is not easy you do know it tough
But you are not one who does have to sleep rough
You may know how it feels to be financially down
And though you may never be one of the wealthy of the town
You have a home to live in and you need not walk far
For to meet one who is poorer and far worse off than you are.

Of Friends Our Earth Mother

Of friends our Earth Mother does need more us humans take from her and in return to her little give
Though she is the one who does feed us off of the food she grows for us we do live
Yet some of our kind very greedy and only know of how to receive
What we do to the Earth that does feed us we do to ourselves i believe
The greedy steal from Earth Mother's treasure with big machines they dig huge holes in the ground
And there is visible damage to the natural environment where human greed it does abound
Many species of fish endangered from pollution of the waterways that flow to the far ocean shore
Our Earth Mother under attack from us humans more so now than at anytime before
More species of animals and birds in danger of extinction when the old growth trees are cut down
Every day more natural habitat for wildlife being destroyed for to build more factories in the town
So many species of wildlife facing extinction because of us humans and this seems a sad thing to say
For our abuse of our Earth Mother our price will be huge for to pay
In our own ways we are all responsible for environmental damage and all does include me and you
And what we do to our Earth Mother to ourselves as a species we do.

Old Joe Of Elsewhere

Since he often tells stories of his travels in the big World out there
He is locally known as old Joe of elsewhere
In the local pub he is well liked and well known
One can say of Joe in a class of his own

In his late seventies his receding hair it is silver gray
And physically he has known of a far better day
He does not know if he has fathered any children he never had a wife
Though he never was short of women in his life

The highways and byways he has been up and down
He has lived and worked in many a city and many a town
But here in his hometown he will live his last Spring
To grow old at home is a natural thing

He is in the twilight of his living span
Old Joe of elsewhere the well traveled man
Of his years of travel he has great stories to tell
And for one close to eighty he looks fit and well

On Saturday night at the local he is in the mood for song
And is always happy to join in the pub sing along
One who has traveled much in the big World out there
The man known to many as old Joe of elsewhere.

Wow

I am not a fan of the word known as wow
To me it sounds less pleasant than the bellow of a cow
It is not a word that is sweet music to my brain
Why this is does seem beyond me to explain
Wow a word some people use when they are very impressed
One of the more ego inflating words nowadays to be expressed
If somebody tells you of his or her successful day
To show you feel impressed wow is all you have to say
But the word wow seems patronizing to me anyway
And i am one with words who does like to play
The word wow nowadays one does often hear
And the meaning of it does seem obviously clear
I feel very impressed by the story of your personal success you tell
When wow it is used big egos do swell.

A Friend That Is True

The best human friendships can be fickle why otherwise pretend
But you treat your dog well and he or she will remain as your friend
For in your dog you do have a friend that is true
Your dog until death remains as a friend to you

For a few kind words and a few pats and two feeds a day
Your dog as your truest friend to you will stay
The human flaws you have your dog does not see
With the saying your best friend is your dog i cannot disagree

There is so much about dogs that one can admire
And of singing their praises i never could tire
Your dog's love for you is unconditional humans are not this way
That your dog never stops loving you in truth one can say

You may lose the love of your children and the love of your wife
But your dog is the one who will love you for life
You treat your dog well and in loyalty and love you it will repay
Dogs are loyal and trustworthy they are born this way

That a dog's behavior does mirror it's master one would have to suppose
The one with a vicious dog is one not without foes
You treat your dog with kindness and as your friend it will stay
Until it's last living breath of it's life's final day.

The Black Mood

The black mood is something of many do know
It darkens the brightness of the inner glow
It is something that some have had to live with for years
The mood that suppress laughter and give rise to tears
Mental depression it is no longer rare
It affects the poor person and the millionaire
To a prolonged sadness it only gives rise
With those who do have it one must sympathize
Doctor prescribed medications soothes the disturbed mind
But there are physical side effects in drugs of all kind
Some with chronic depression end life in suicide
So many good people in such a way have died
Mental depression is no longer rare
It can affect the poor one and the billionaire.

It Does Seem This Way

For love of the national flag and patriotic pride
By far too many young men in wars have died
They did not live on for to grow old and gray
For their patriotism and bravery with their lives they did pay
Life is often short for some who live without fear
Though the last post the dead heroes never do hear
And sadly to say in every war parade
In the patriotic and impressionable young future dead heroes are made
I have seen old soldiers their eyes full of tears
For young comrades of war deceased for many years
Even victory in war does come at a huge cost
Yet lessons of wars never learned though many lives have been lost
In war zones of the World people are dying every day
And that one war leads to another it does seem this way.

On N A I D O C Week

Since i am a fellow from a far away Land
Their culture and ways how could i understand
They had lived in their Country for thousands of years
Before my kind took from them their land and paid for it in tears

I live in and off of their Country is all i can say
And respect to them and their culture is all i can pay
Such a beautiful race of a proud history
And as the first Australians they always will be

Australia's first people for so long oppressed
By the invader northerners they have been dispossessed
The arrival of Cook as time goes not that long ago
To them only brought death and suffering and decades of woe

So little of their ways i can claim of to know
Though my respect for them and their culture it only does grow
Their children taken from them unlawfully and though past wrongs cannot be made right
In their tunnel of darkness there now is some light

For Australia's first people there has been an increase of respect of late
And in N A I D O C week their culture they do celebrate
Of them and their ways there is much to admire
And of singing their praises i never could tire.

In My Dreams The Past

In my dreams the past it does come back to me
The fields of Duhallow again i do see
And the streams to the rivers to the ocean shore
And the hills of Sliabh Luachra overlooking Rathmore

The boy of the fifties old looking, bald and gray
And from Cullen and Millstreet does live far away
He will never more see Blackwater in flood waters of brown
Bank high in the old fields close to Millstreet Town

We all have our own dreams in life to pursue
But dreams as we know for so few do come true
Many leave their first home places to travel far
The World's big Cities are where most migrants are

On my flights of fancy old friends i do meet
In my visualized walks in the Town of Millstreet
For as long as the gift of memory with us does stay
The past will be with us until our dying day

On my flights of fancy i do see again
The hills of the Boggeraghs in their fogs of rain
And though time it will eventually become my foe
My past follows me to wherever to i do go.

A Flock Of Roost Bound Starlings

They turn and twist in circles as they fly
A flock of roost bound starlings in the darkening sky
For the watching eyes quite an amazing sight
For to see them as they twist and turn in flight
The starlings in numbers seem to multiply
And the flocks do grow bigger as the Seasons go by
Dark feathered mimics who have a scratchy type of song
Once seen and once heard one cannot get them wrong
Introduced by humans to many countries starlings are widely known
With the passing of time the flocks in numbers have grown
The males in their breeding colors of a dotted dark purple sheen
In the full sunlight quite beautiful to be seen
They live in large noisy flocks and of them i can say
That they are birds i do hear and do see every day.

Time Does Not Wait

Tomorrow is coming and yesterday has gone
And the clock on our lives ever keeps ticking on
A decade of years in our physical prime
And eventually we all become victims of time
They are walking slow nowadays great athletes of the past
The fastest pace slow of the legs that moved fast
I am telling you something you already know
When i say eventually time renders the fastest slow
Time will not wait for you it did not wait for me
At least it does treat everyone equally
To every new dawning our end does draw near
And it is only the fear of death that we do fear
Us humans mere mortals when all is said and done
And eventually time takes care of everyone.

True To My Hobby

I am one of those who has spent so much time
And put much mental effort Into The writing of rhyme
Without the rewards of money or fame
Though it is something i do enjoy doing just the same
I add to my numbers of rhymes every day
Suppose it is each to their own as the wise one does say
If i said i will quit rhyming this would be a lie
As i hope to be doing it till the day i do die
I never refer to myself as a poet
I leave this to those who feel they are worthy of literary note
Among writers i will never be one to the fore
I write rhymes for enjoyment and little else more
And though my best days in life in the forever gone
True to my hobby i will keep on rhyming on.

Why Pay Too Much Heed

You pay too much heed of what some others of you do say
Of how you are one who works for poor take home pay
Of the town successful they have counted you out
The judgments of others in us give rise to self doubt
To support your partner and two young children you work hard every week day
Nothing easy in life ever does come your way
The praises of the wealthy and famous the impressionable masses may sing
But they tend to forget that success can be a relative thing
That you do have to work hard for to make ends meet
In keeping yourself and your partner and children from being homeless on the street
That many see fame and wealth as success well may be so
But to anyone anything you do not owe
So why pay any heed to what negative people of you do say
Since you live as a successful person in your own quiet way.

The Mind Full Of Bitterness

Some people their old grudges cannot give away
They hang on to them till their last breath of their life's final day
They are not the type who do mellow with age
Against those they see as their enemies they maintain the rage
Whilst others have in them the power to forgive
And believe in the philosophy of live and let live
They cannot live with bitterness and forgive their foes
They are much the better for this one has to suppose
Anger and bitterness does cloud the mind
Of where the gift of forgiveness a place cannot find
The one who is happy does not harbor a grudge
And never does wish to be anyone's judge
There is truth in the saying two wrongs never make a right
The mind full of bitterness is closed to light.

A Male Chaffinch Is Singing

A voice from the past that to memory belong
In fancy i do hear the male chaffinch on song
On a leafy birch tree in the prime of the May
From where i now live in distance far away
A voice i grew to love when i was a boy
Good memories do remain as a source of joy
Of a pink breasted feathered songster of the spring of the year
His twittering song such a joy for to hear
The great gift of memory such a marvelous thing
My thoughts often take me to a far away Spring
When bluebells were in bloom on the ditch of the bohreen
So pleasant the memories of beauty i have seen
A male chaffinch is singing on a leafy birch tree
And nature is at her greenest everywhere around me.

We Become What We Believe In

On greenies and nature lovers he revenges his mind
He looks on them as worse than subversive kind
Of progress they do keep getting in the way
He believes that for their anti industrialization behavior they should be made to pay

He says without them there would be more employment in every town
More factories and houses built and more trees cut down
Far too few buildings and too many trees in the World of today
It would be very different if in it i had a say

He says that for poverty and unemployment nature lovers and greenies are to blame
That these are the people without a sense of shame
Of climate change and environmental damage by humans they keep spreading the fear
That they are only fear mongering to me does seem obviously clear

With his like minded friends at night in the local pub
They talk of the recent performances of their favorite football club
And blame nature lovers and the greenies for World poverty
We become what we believe in is how it seems to be.

On What Is A Successfully Lived Life

On what is a successfully live life why do you ask me
Since on the answer to such a question many would not agree
The meaning of success to many is a relative thing
Though the praises of the wealthy and famous the impressionable do sing
You have your opinions and this suits me fine
And your idea of success is quite different to mine
But how boring we would be for want of a better name
If we never did differ and in all ways thought the same
Your hero the wealthiest man in the town
Who on his climb to wealth and fame did drag others down
He is one on his ways i look on as small
And the hero to many not a hero to all
Your idea of what is a successfully lived life is quite different to mine
You have your opinions and this suits me fine.

The Young Man From Elsewhere

He arrived by bus from the big World out there
And today he left on the morning bus the man from nowhere
Three days in the country town for him a long enough stay
The dark handsome young stranger with few words to say

He slept for three nights in a single room in the pub and now he is gone
And life in the country town as usual goes on
Dark skin, dark hair and brown eyes his accent was strong
To a bigger World he is one who belong

Since he has left some of the town's more curious their curiosity only does grow
As nothing about him they can claim to know
With the local pub patrons he did not mix he drank on his own
Perhaps his way of saying he did not wish to be known

In the country town he must have felt out of place
The young man from elsewhere of a different race
In a town where everyone not born and raised locally is seen as a blow in
Friendships for an outsider seem near impossible to win

Tonight he will be in a town far away
Where his it will be just another brief stay
The tall dark handsome stranger of the big World out there
Who stayed for a few days and then left for elsewhere.