Stephen James Smith, the founder of the once epic Glór Sessions in the International Bar did a verse for the St. Patricks Festival on the theme of “My Ireland”. His verse gives his take on the country, making references to euphanisms for Ireland and dawing on verses of other poets referring to the country.
I them thought to do my version, as much on why the country does not follow the new alternative voice for Ireland when it knows it needs change, and noted the waryness that the people use to the new voices as much as the old, choosing the devil they know it seems, and it may be through grassroots reform of these as opposed to replacement that we may get a fairer Ireland I think.
My Ireland – we rarely protest
Seeing an agenda beyond what we support
We do not trust those with the agenda
Who say the right things on the news report.
If promised just half of their agenda
On how much of our cause would they compromise
They would sell us all out in an instant
That sad truth my Ireland does realize.
We saw them before at independence
When they bleated about great freedom for all
Seems they think it is better for the poor
When they by their own oppressed and made small.
Ah yes, Traveller and the Sapilpin
Who found work and respect in landlords days
Found a cold house though they too Catholic
Some freedom for them in these modern days.
We see demanding gombeen politicians
Rant about horses to put in their place
The Travelling people and inner city folk
Who keep horses on the common space.
Its safety for others and the horses
That belong in the country not there
Similar is said about that old tradition
The annual village and town horse fair.
In Banagher and also Ballinasloe
Latter a Green Fair, the former of the Street
Movements to stop them have had their say
But its our tradition that they wont defeat.
In urban planning stables for horse owners
Should be planned for, and commonage green
But that wont keep the councillors happy
Who strong against Travellers want to be seen.
Then in Galway here in my Ireland of today
Another gombeen of the New Labour left
To get the votes of the middle classes
Ranted about Roma Hair braiders, the only niche left
No, this was not Oliver J Flanagan
Or a Donald Trump of the modern age
They wouldnt even do that in North Longford
Where a similar stooge seeks to strut that stage.
My Ireland – we look at the new left
Its not the left of old that we had known
That got women the vote – land ownership
A country and a nation of our own.
The new left is obsessed with abortion
Claim its not eugenics: a human right
We’ve been here before decades ago
We recoil, baulk in horror at the sight
Our own side, as they loudly proclaim to be
– The Jesus Joseph and Mary brigade –
They speak not for me in their bigotry
Who made and still make single mothers afraid.
Who can blame girls for wanting abortion
To keep from the family perceived shame
Of a bad, condemnative society
Who gossip, badmouth, deride and they blame
Girls, but rarely ever the fellow
Who often as not is unknown
In our still chauvinistic society
The girl is looked down on, left on her own.
If its all right for men who have lovers
So it should be for a woman then too
Her children should be accepted as equals
But that is not what society does do.
True, in Ireland its not like it was
But we still have a long long way to go
If we are pro life we must accept all
Let us no prejudice to the unmarried show.
At risk of committing a little blasphemy
Sure Mary Herself, to all around was unmarried
Though Virgin as we believe in our faith
Her child our lord, illegitimate that she carried.
Here in Galway town once upon a time
A mother lost her child not long ago
They asked it be removed to save her life
Was answered “Irelands Catholic” as no.
The left as it presents itself was preaching
Blamed the 8th Amendment and led the call
It be repealed as a step to abortion
As they want it, free and free for all.
There is no guarantee it would have saved Savita
Though it was the best option to save her life
Her husband called for it and was ignored
By ignorant staff as he pleaded for his wife.
The amendment says “where not practical”
Alas, for the unborn child all was lost
Being on its way it can only be hastened
Not stopped, the mothers life the cost.
Not one on the left cried to the racism
The unseen elephant that was in the room
Which normally when arguing against common sense
Is their first call as marching tune.
If she was white and if she was Irish
Do you think such like would be to her said?
But no an ignorant lady doctor
Kept the dying mother in her place instead.
But stating that truth will not suit the slogan
That on their placards the trendy protesters wrote
Sure its all about the marketing really
The parties more extreme to get the vote.
So they made a football of the tragedy
Continue to do so to this day
But my Ireland, cynical, see through it
Into their hands it refuses to play.
My Ireland, sometimes we go to church
In aisle before seating give genuflection
We oppose abuse coverups of clergy
But we for clerics and faith have affection.
Abuse and cover up is throughout society
Though of the clergy being moral we expected more
There will be more to come from all sections
That will make simple the problems we have had before.
The new left and atheists kick the pope
Say things if the Orange Order they did state
They could be reported and prosecuted
Punished for acts and speeches of hate.
My Ireland ignore the gibbering nyeucks
To their provocation will not rise
They’ve little more to them than their agenda
My Ireland, experienced, does realise.
My Ireland sees the unions want more for the well paid
While the lower paid are told keep to their REA
The business students of ten years ago
Are the managers now who deny fair pay.
So they have their banners and march down Shop Street
We look cynically as in cafes we relax
Sip our coffee to the ceiling throw our eyes
Before next day we work and pay our tax.
My Ireland resists the media in their call
That we should rent for life the family home
Its not for that that the Land League fought
The stood for each families home their own.
Back in the day before we flew our own flag
Go to America was the medias call
Irelands to poor for all bar the rich
Some freedom they wanted our heros to fight for and fall.
My Ireland strains under charlatans on the make
Saviors self appointed that serve an interest of their own
Tis is not their land to change as they see fit
This is all of ours, which we all own.
Ireland has come through worse in the last hundred years
It will come out of this bruised but stronger of the fight
The charlatans, the chancer’s will fall away
Little will change, but it will be more or less all right.
Verse 1 – Line 5/6
Sinn Fein is moving a lot to the centre in a hope for coalition and power
Verse ii – Line 5/6
The working classes and the poor did not improve much in a free Ireland, with some in power thinking its better for the poor to be called scum by their own than the British.
Verse iii –
Mike Cubbard, as satired in the verse “No Horse Sense in Galway”
Verse v – Line 1
Billy Cameron of Labour – satired in “The Hair Brained Fight the Hair Braiders”
Verse vi – Lines 1/4
The First Wave Feminist left, which was pro life, and not athieist in the west.
Pro lifers made a show of themselves in Ballinalee at the Sean Mac Eoin statue in Ballinalee unveiling, which I boycotted due to austerity cuts, but would not demonstrate at as it was not appropriate.