I have no desire for to try to change your ideas
On politics and life you just suit yourself please
But do not waste your energy in trying to convince me your ideas are right
Since we are as different as day is from night.
You say refugees should be sent back to from where they came
For their circumstance beyond their control poor souls you do blame
But due to circumstance of birth it would seem to me
That you or I may have been born to become a refugee.
That you and I are so lucky you don't see it that way
That we are responsible for our predicaments you are trying to say
But in some cases that only seems to apply
On your sort of reasoning I won't waste a reply.
So many think like you of that I am aware
And so little in common we do seem to share
But before we first walked we learned how to crawl
And long live the truth in a fair go for all.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Bridgie Collins
Never more at the Cork track she'll watch her greyhounds race
And cheer home her winner with a smile on her face
Bridgie from the land of the living has gone
But good memories of her are destined to live on.
Pre-deceased by her husband the one and only Dan
The Collins of Cockhill are a well known clan
They raised a big family the Collins name won't die
And the Cockhill Collins in numbers they will multiply.
The Collins of Millstreet are known far and wide
Far beyond Duhallow's old green Countryside
Through athletics and wrestling, greyhounds and gaelic football
Their names from the past one can readily recall.
And Bridgie their good mother she has passed away
For her sons and her daughters it is a sad day
But for each of us sad to say a final Fall
And the reaper who claimed her will one day claim us all.
And cheer home her winner with a smile on her face
Bridgie from the land of the living has gone
But good memories of her are destined to live on.
Pre-deceased by her husband the one and only Dan
The Collins of Cockhill are a well known clan
They raised a big family the Collins name won't die
And the Cockhill Collins in numbers they will multiply.
The Collins of Millstreet are known far and wide
Far beyond Duhallow's old green Countryside
Through athletics and wrestling, greyhounds and gaelic football
Their names from the past one can readily recall.
And Bridgie their good mother she has passed away
For her sons and her daughters it is a sad day
But for each of us sad to say a final Fall
And the reaper who claimed her will one day claim us all.
You Only Preach Intolerance
Since you believe the fear mongers who keep filling you with fear
Of your little fears and worries I do not wish to hear
So many times you've told me of how your God is great
Yet those you see as different to you in any way you do not tolerate.
Since to the one known as your higher self you never could be true
Your God is not a good God if your God thinks like you
'Tis no wonder we have war zones and 'tis no wonder famine is rife
And 'tis no wonder in the World there is great loss of young life.
Since with the feelings of those different you cannot empathize
I do feel sorry for you your thinking is not wise
Between your God and their God the gulf keeps growing wide
But you feel so much superior to them with your real God on your side.
Since I am one without a God or one who doesn't believe in prayer
You see me as a bad person one damaged beyond repair
But what you think or feel about me I really do not care
You only preach intolerance take your message elsewhere.
Of your little fears and worries I do not wish to hear
So many times you've told me of how your God is great
Yet those you see as different to you in any way you do not tolerate.
Since to the one known as your higher self you never could be true
Your God is not a good God if your God thinks like you
'Tis no wonder we have war zones and 'tis no wonder famine is rife
And 'tis no wonder in the World there is great loss of young life.
Since with the feelings of those different you cannot empathize
I do feel sorry for you your thinking is not wise
Between your God and their God the gulf keeps growing wide
But you feel so much superior to them with your real God on your side.
Since I am one without a God or one who doesn't believe in prayer
You see me as a bad person one damaged beyond repair
But what you think or feel about me I really do not care
You only preach intolerance take your message elsewhere.
Oh You There
Oh you there you pen such good rhyme
You would have known fame in a by gone time
But in this the age of the non rhyme poet
You are not seen as one worthy of note.
In so few words so much you say
With words you surely have a way
Of language you have a great command
And your poems not hard to understand
Your Nature poems I do like best
Of how birds in Spring-time build their nest
In hole in bank or old stump cavity
Or on ground or fork of branch of tree.
Whilst few have heard of you by name
And others enjoy greater fame
I read a poem of your's each night
And I enjoy reading the stuff you write.
Oh you untainted by conceit
One like you doesn't live on every street
You've never penned a slipshod line
And you've matured well like good wine.
You would have known fame in a by gone time
But in this the age of the non rhyme poet
You are not seen as one worthy of note.
In so few words so much you say
With words you surely have a way
Of language you have a great command
And your poems not hard to understand
Your Nature poems I do like best
Of how birds in Spring-time build their nest
In hole in bank or old stump cavity
Or on ground or fork of branch of tree.
Whilst few have heard of you by name
And others enjoy greater fame
I read a poem of your's each night
And I enjoy reading the stuff you write.
Oh you untainted by conceit
One like you doesn't live on every street
You've never penned a slipshod line
And you've matured well like good wine.
Concentrate On The Present
Concentrate on the present and on your present cares
The futures is like climbing up a dark stairs
You open a door and who knows what you'll find
The future will come and your past is behind.
The past we look back on and often recall
But the here and now matters to us most of all
And though to look to the future is never a crime
Tomorrow it will come on it's own good time.
You've heard of the story of the wealthy man
To become the world's wealthiest person his great future plan
But now all is dark and so quiet where he lay
On hindsight he ought to have lived for each day.
My only desire is to pen better rhyme
But even for that there may well not be time
The clock on the wall it just keeps ticking on
And the sky it is dark and the daylight has gone.
The futures is like climbing up a dark stairs
You open a door and who knows what you'll find
The future will come and your past is behind.
The past we look back on and often recall
But the here and now matters to us most of all
And though to look to the future is never a crime
Tomorrow it will come on it's own good time.
You've heard of the story of the wealthy man
To become the world's wealthiest person his great future plan
But now all is dark and so quiet where he lay
On hindsight he ought to have lived for each day.
My only desire is to pen better rhyme
But even for that there may well not be time
The clock on the wall it just keeps ticking on
And the sky it is dark and the daylight has gone.
I'll Always Be
I'll always be a migrant in this Country and I'd feel like a stranger now in from where I came
But in the end my feelings will not matter for in the end 'twill all come to the same
I live far from the house where I was born in though nostalgia for me a thing of the past
'Tis true enough that time is the great healer though few things in time ever do seem to last.
I now can look back without tears of nostalgia and recall the beauty I have known and seen
Of Springs gone by when robin with the red breast sang on the alder by the old bohreen
When the leafy crab apple tree looked rather lovely in her fragile pink tinted blossoms of gray
And the swallows home from their Southern wintering Country above the fields chased their flying insect prey.
I day dreamed of being a poet in that far Country though for me there has been no such a renown
'Tis true that poets are not made they are born and a poet is not born in every town
Yet the beauty all around me did inspire me as Nature she inspires us all to write
The wildflowers in the lush green fields of April for anyone is a memorable sight.
I still recall the dipper's song in April he sang on a rock amidst the babbling stream
Such things of beauty one tends to remember though of such things I seldom now do dream
And though I'll always be a migrant in this Country the present is to where we all belong
And one might say that I have grown familiar to the natural beauty in the magpie's song.
But in the end my feelings will not matter for in the end 'twill all come to the same
I live far from the house where I was born in though nostalgia for me a thing of the past
'Tis true enough that time is the great healer though few things in time ever do seem to last.
I now can look back without tears of nostalgia and recall the beauty I have known and seen
Of Springs gone by when robin with the red breast sang on the alder by the old bohreen
When the leafy crab apple tree looked rather lovely in her fragile pink tinted blossoms of gray
And the swallows home from their Southern wintering Country above the fields chased their flying insect prey.
I day dreamed of being a poet in that far Country though for me there has been no such a renown
'Tis true that poets are not made they are born and a poet is not born in every town
Yet the beauty all around me did inspire me as Nature she inspires us all to write
The wildflowers in the lush green fields of April for anyone is a memorable sight.
I still recall the dipper's song in April he sang on a rock amidst the babbling stream
Such things of beauty one tends to remember though of such things I seldom now do dream
And though I'll always be a migrant in this Country the present is to where we all belong
And one might say that I have grown familiar to the natural beauty in the magpie's song.
The Grand Old Fellow Joe
He was a fine old gentleman though him few seemed to know
He lived his life his own way the grand old fellow Joe,
He is with his wife Daisy in the same grave they lay
And may he rest in peace now for he too had his day,
He was a man of few words as most wise people are
And though from his old Hometown he never did travel far
He was a Worldly person insightful and well read
A wise and a knowledgeable fellow of him it could be said,
His only offspring Billy in the war in Vietnam died
His sense of loss and disappointment from others he did not hide,
He said my son was a brave young man who threw his life away
I'd rather him be a living coward and be with me today,
He never harmed anyone though he did his own thing
And he was a grand old fellow and his praises I must sing.
He lived his life his own way the grand old fellow Joe,
He is with his wife Daisy in the same grave they lay
And may he rest in peace now for he too had his day,
He was a man of few words as most wise people are
And though from his old Hometown he never did travel far
He was a Worldly person insightful and well read
A wise and a knowledgeable fellow of him it could be said,
His only offspring Billy in the war in Vietnam died
His sense of loss and disappointment from others he did not hide,
He said my son was a brave young man who threw his life away
I'd rather him be a living coward and be with me today,
He never harmed anyone though he did his own thing
And he was a grand old fellow and his praises I must sing.
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