If I should die tomorrow at my farewell don't pray
Or good things or bad things of me do not say
I've had a good life and I've lived my good years
And for others save your sorrow your grief and your tears.
Just leave me to Nature for to rest in peace
From life's cares or worries I'll have had my release
I had my good innings we all have to die
The reaper one day he will claim you and I.
If I should die tomorrow I will be past life's cares
And I don't need your tears or I don't need your prayers
Save your tears and your prayers for the living instead
As they could not be of any use to the dead.
If I should die tomorrow just get on with your life
You have your own worries and your inner strife
And why even bother to visit where I lay
Just leave me to Nature I will be okay.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Father Ted Kennedy
The hero of Sydney's Aboriginal people is now with the dead
The Parish Priest of Redfern the great Father Ted
Right till his own end he was on the side
Of the poor fringe dwellers and the marginalized.
Of the present clergy in Redfern it would be fair to say
That from Father Ted's cause they have turned away
Conservative in their thinking they shun the downtrod
And the marginalized children of the lesser God.
And though Father Ted Kennedy from Redfern has forever gone
In his old Parish his spirit will always live on
His Presbytery to the poor was an open door
A friendship like his they will know never more.
For to help the poor he went out of his way
He gave them support and with them he did pray
He treated them as equals and to them was a good friend
But sad to think good times too come to an end.
For the Indigenous people of Redfern things now much the same
Before the great Priest Father Ted to them came
The Presbytery door closed to them nothing good ever last
But life for them must go on they can't live in the past.
The Parish Priest of Redfern the great Father Ted
Right till his own end he was on the side
Of the poor fringe dwellers and the marginalized.
Of the present clergy in Redfern it would be fair to say
That from Father Ted's cause they have turned away
Conservative in their thinking they shun the downtrod
And the marginalized children of the lesser God.
And though Father Ted Kennedy from Redfern has forever gone
In his old Parish his spirit will always live on
His Presbytery to the poor was an open door
A friendship like his they will know never more.
For to help the poor he went out of his way
He gave them support and with them he did pray
He treated them as equals and to them was a good friend
But sad to think good times too come to an end.
For the Indigenous people of Redfern things now much the same
Before the great Priest Father Ted to them came
The Presbytery door closed to them nothing good ever last
But life for them must go on they can't live in the past.
Addicted
Addicted to doggerel and addicted to rhyme
So many see that as a great waste of time
They are not interested in the birds and the bees
Or the colours of the blossoms that bloom on the fruit bearing trees.
When you tell them for what you write you do not get paid
They see you as one who has not made the grade
In big brother's eyes you are one of high rank
If you own a big share of a big City bank.
They tell you why bother your rhymes you don't sell
Literary minded people read poetry and not doggerel
Perhaps for your addiction you should see a shrink
Who may put you straight on the way that you think.
Addicted to doggerel in that I'm not alone
You who are without sin go and cast the first stone
We all have our addictions and would you not agree
That in things some think common beauty some can see.
So many see that as a great waste of time
They are not interested in the birds and the bees
Or the colours of the blossoms that bloom on the fruit bearing trees.
When you tell them for what you write you do not get paid
They see you as one who has not made the grade
In big brother's eyes you are one of high rank
If you own a big share of a big City bank.
They tell you why bother your rhymes you don't sell
Literary minded people read poetry and not doggerel
Perhaps for your addiction you should see a shrink
Who may put you straight on the way that you think.
Addicted to doggerel in that I'm not alone
You who are without sin go and cast the first stone
We all have our addictions and would you not agree
That in things some think common beauty some can see.
The Land Does Not Belong To The People
You may not agree with my thinking and you may say what I say is wrong
But the Land does not belong to the people the people to the Land belong.
The Land was there long before we came and the Land will be there when we're gone
And if we never were in existence the Land and it's wildlife would live on,
We do not own the land the land feeds us and we too are a part of the Land
And though my point of view you may scoff at and my argument you may not understand
The block of Land and the house on it that you say is in your name in your name it always won't stay
For you will not live on forever you like us all must die one day,
And whether we are buried or cremated and our remains to ashes burn
We will be claimed by the Land that owns us and to Mother Earth we will return,
When we say the land is ours that is not right though with my thinking you don't agree
You argue my Land is my property and my Land it belongs to me
But the fact is that one day you must die and despite all of your worldly gain
The property that was in your name in your name it will not remain.
But the Land does not belong to the people the people to the Land belong.
The Land was there long before we came and the Land will be there when we're gone
And if we never were in existence the Land and it's wildlife would live on,
We do not own the land the land feeds us and we too are a part of the Land
And though my point of view you may scoff at and my argument you may not understand
The block of Land and the house on it that you say is in your name in your name it always won't stay
For you will not live on forever you like us all must die one day,
And whether we are buried or cremated and our remains to ashes burn
We will be claimed by the Land that owns us and to Mother Earth we will return,
When we say the land is ours that is not right though with my thinking you don't agree
You argue my Land is my property and my Land it belongs to me
But the fact is that one day you must die and despite all of your worldly gain
The property that was in your name in your name it will not remain.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
On The Last Time I saw Caherbarnagh
On the last time I saw Caherbarnagh the weather was windy and cold
In the early days of December and the old year was getting quite old
Dark clouds hung above Gortavehy it looked like more rain on the way
And frost overnight on the high ground had left the old fields looking gray.
The last time I saw Caherbarnagh it was a cold wintery day
And in the galvanize shed in the farmyard the cattle were bellowing for hay
The stream from the foot of the mountain bank high by the bogland did flow
On the last time I saw Caherbarnagh now almost two decades ago.
The old hill known as Caherbarnagh doesn't change with the passing of time
He has been around and will be forever and he will outlive the poet's rhyme
With beard of bracken a natural old Monarch he proudly stands on the high ground
Overlooking Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra and the Countryside for miles around.
On the last time I saw Caherbarnagh the cold winds of Winter did blow
On a bleak day in early December it did seem cold enough for to snow
And time has left me looking older and further south and much further away
From the countryside by the Boggeragh mountains where I lived for many a day.
In the early days of December and the old year was getting quite old
Dark clouds hung above Gortavehy it looked like more rain on the way
And frost overnight on the high ground had left the old fields looking gray.
The last time I saw Caherbarnagh it was a cold wintery day
And in the galvanize shed in the farmyard the cattle were bellowing for hay
The stream from the foot of the mountain bank high by the bogland did flow
On the last time I saw Caherbarnagh now almost two decades ago.
The old hill known as Caherbarnagh doesn't change with the passing of time
He has been around and will be forever and he will outlive the poet's rhyme
With beard of bracken a natural old Monarch he proudly stands on the high ground
Overlooking Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra and the Countryside for miles around.
On the last time I saw Caherbarnagh the cold winds of Winter did blow
On a bleak day in early December it did seem cold enough for to snow
And time has left me looking older and further south and much further away
From the countryside by the Boggeragh mountains where I lived for many a day.
Joe Frazier
His three great fights with Muhammad Ali will live on in boxing history
Joe Frazier was truly a champion few heavyweights as great as he
He enjoyed his moments of glory though nothing in life seems to last
In boxing his name it will always be mentioned when they recall champions of the past.
He lost his title to George Foreman a title he did not regain
Joe Frazier the great former champion would never be champion again
The passing of time is now telling on the champ from three decades ago
There never will be one more like him there is only one 'Smokin Joe'
The Philadelphia meat worker became a legend in his Hometown
The one who fought his way to glory and scaled the great heights of renown
He is such a likeable fellow his fame never went to his head
A humble and down to earth person of him that can surely be said.
Joe Frazier was a World Champion going back over three decades ago
A marvellous ambassador for boxing a legend around him did grow
He fought greats such as Bonavena, Chuvalo and Ali and Foreman when he was in his glorious prime
A hero of the sixties and seventies he too is bowing to father time.
Joe Frazier was truly a champion few heavyweights as great as he
He enjoyed his moments of glory though nothing in life seems to last
In boxing his name it will always be mentioned when they recall champions of the past.
He lost his title to George Foreman a title he did not regain
Joe Frazier the great former champion would never be champion again
The passing of time is now telling on the champ from three decades ago
There never will be one more like him there is only one 'Smokin Joe'
The Philadelphia meat worker became a legend in his Hometown
The one who fought his way to glory and scaled the great heights of renown
He is such a likeable fellow his fame never went to his head
A humble and down to earth person of him that can surely be said.
Joe Frazier was a World Champion going back over three decades ago
A marvellous ambassador for boxing a legend around him did grow
He fought greats such as Bonavena, Chuvalo and Ali and Foreman when he was in his glorious prime
A hero of the sixties and seventies he too is bowing to father time.
Are They Any Different To I
The humble mouse, bird and the rabbit are they any different to i
In the end we will have the same status as one day we are destined to die
With me they have so much in common as we breathe the very same air
To other creatures we think we're superior though much in common with them we do share.
We are primates we can see colours but about that there is no big deal
Than other creatures we may be more clever our sense of superiority to our egos appeal
But mammals and birds they too have five senses and a sense of loss they too can feel
And they like us have their own problems and their problems to them are real.
Have you read the short poem by James Stephens the touching poem known as 'The Snare'
He heard the cries of the snared rabbit and was searching for it everywhere
The poet was one who had empathy and to animals was caring and kind
But some people they can be so cruel and in torturing animals appeasement they find.
Yet animals to us they are equal despite what we think or we say
Like them we do not live forever we are destined for to die one day
The reaper makes all of us equal though most with that would not agree
And the horse and the cow in the paddock i feel are no different to me.
In the end we will have the same status as one day we are destined to die
With me they have so much in common as we breathe the very same air
To other creatures we think we're superior though much in common with them we do share.
We are primates we can see colours but about that there is no big deal
Than other creatures we may be more clever our sense of superiority to our egos appeal
But mammals and birds they too have five senses and a sense of loss they too can feel
And they like us have their own problems and their problems to them are real.
Have you read the short poem by James Stephens the touching poem known as 'The Snare'
He heard the cries of the snared rabbit and was searching for it everywhere
The poet was one who had empathy and to animals was caring and kind
But some people they can be so cruel and in torturing animals appeasement they find.
Yet animals to us they are equal despite what we think or we say
Like them we do not live forever we are destined for to die one day
The reaper makes all of us equal though most with that would not agree
And the horse and the cow in the paddock i feel are no different to me.
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