The Agreement
Discontent and the tragedy of poverty
starve our bloody English history
truth as the political tanks, soldier boys
and girls march past peace and hope. A simple
twist of fate and green bullets have masked a ceasefire and
nothing is left but blood and havoc to wreck a longing for
tolerance. See the defiance deep in Phoenix Park, religion
and farce unite while idle, drunk children spray paint the brick
and dear Louis sleeps twenty feet deep.
‘Father Ted is a lovely old bloke but all priests are paedos' and
an Irish tradition that is rich in Yeats, drenched in Bushmills.
The Maze, a legacy of famine, meaning
spuds sands dirty protest and a clean fresh start.
An opportunity for murder at Enniskillen brings retribution
and a commitment to the legitimate suffering of ár fir,
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Author's Note
I am Anglo/Irish and the bloody awful recent events started me thinking about the days before Daesh. When the IRA struck terror into Londoner's hearts.
'Dear Louis' refers to Lord Mountbatten who was assassinated on August 27th, 1979 by the Irish Republican Army.
ár fir is gaelic for 'our men'
It has a classic wail to it. The words bite. *
*
*
There are genes for this, it seems, augmented by layers of acculturation.
*Enlightening!
*
I think about this. How quickly people forget, how the past becomes a pastoral and how now isn't any different than it's ever been. We just remember it that way.
*, Tabatha. Some fine work here. I'm taken by this fragment:
"But all priests are paedos' and
an Irish tradition that is rich in Yeats, drenched in Bushmills."
Lots of suffering here, a history of it. Alas, now it's in our bones and sometimes I think something without which we can't carry on.