Francis Duggan Poems

He was some man Bill the Basher standing near seven foot tall
And with a build to match his great height near him big men looked quite small
And with his great thirst for liquor he gave himself a bad name
As a drunkard and a brawler an unwanted sort of fame.
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The home of Irish culture an old man once told me
How Eoghain Ruaidh O Suilleabhain died at Knocknagree
He was a major Gaelic poet the literary critics say
And the legend of the great Eoghain Ruaidh is living still today
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Miles from the City the noise and the smoke
Where the wind soughs and wails in the she oak
And where the creek from the mountain every night and day
Down towards the ocean it babbles on it's way.
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In Melbourne streets named in his honour but do Melburnians know
What Cromwell did to the poor of Ireland more than three centuries ago?
Nowadays he would be outlawed for his crimes against humanity
But then it's true that the conquerors always write history.
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I suppose for our acts of self abuse in some ways we must pay
I picked up a bloke who was hitching a lift at 10-30 a.m. today
As he hobbled out of Wonthaggi minus his shirt and shoes
He said he had lost them somehow on his night out on the booze.
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Nick Rackard was a very famous hurler as famed as Mick Mackey or Christy Ring
And when i was young he used to play for Wexford and great excitement to the game did bring
His seven goals and seven points against Antrim in an All Ireland semi final in championship hurling still a record score
And hardly ever likely to be beaten and probably will stand forever more.
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It surely is a dog's life after all
Old Jedder after years of chasing ball
Her arthritic hips damaged beyond repair
And her balance going the price of wear and tear.
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Of life after death the mystery has grown
And there must be more to us than flesh and bone
For the human remains the funeral bell may toll
But life goes on as usual for the soul.
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Young Aaron is a bright and budding poet
And for the future he is one to note
And all of his class mates say his poems are good
And are well written and easily understood.
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I still recall a memory from my childhood
Long years ago and many miles away
The robin on the flowering hawthron singing
And the high fields wore their wildflowers of the May.
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