Sunday, June 22, 2003

This is not a poem about religion.

"Low lie the Fields of Athenry,
Where once we watched the small free birds fly,
Our love was on the wing,
We had dreams and songs to sing,
It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry."

This is not a poem about
or bigotry,
this is not a poem
about hatred
this is not a poem -
these are pieces of a jigsaw,
pieces of hours, minutes
and days spent

Proddie bastard
you said, handing
over the cup of tea you'd made
me - laughing, you climbed
in bed and I sang softly -
I'm up to my eyes in fenian
We slept and fucked
the day away.

By lonely castle walls
I heard a young man calling,
"Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free.
Against the famine and the crown
I rebelled, they struck me down.
Now you must raise our child in dignity."

Ebony black beads
clung to your back,
thighs and buttocks - ran
across the sheet, like ants
chasing the last picnic
you gathered them up
and set them out
four, four, two -
laughed, when I asked why
there were only ten men -
Is a confirmation the same as
a communion?
I passed the church
and saw you leaving but...

By lonely prison walls,
She watched the last star falling
As the prison ship sailed out against the sky.
Sure she'll wait and hope and pray
For her love in Botany Bay
It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenrye

I listened to the song
carefully - real carefully,
trying to understand why
her love was being sent to prison -
wondered who Treveleyn was
wondered why the world is
full of hatred
in the name of love.
Then I tried to write
a poem. But all that
happened was this.

SC. 2003.

The Fields of Athenry is a beautifully, haunting traditional Irish song written I think by Pete St John in 1979 - I heard it for the first time on saturday and decided to read up on it a bit. Here's one of the places my wee surf led me - . Kinda beautiful - Im sure you'll agree. If this isn't suitable for posting feel free to delete, no offence will be taken. Dipps :^)

No comments:

Post a Comment