Francis Duggan Poems

I see them one might say too often they either stare at me or ignore me as I walk down the street
In their eyes I must seem unfriendly the people I don't wish to meet
I've never harmed them or their children and they only know me by sight
But in their eyes I do seem a strange one and something about me not right.
...

It flows from the foot of Mt Baw Baw through many a Yarra Valley Town
The waterway known as the Yarra the river that flows upside down
It deepens and crawls at a snail's pace through Melbourne it always looks a muddy gray
The river that flows bottom to top I only quote what others say.
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In the high field by the old hill he fancy he can hear
The hunting red fox barking loud five days and nights from the New Year
Millions of stars in the night sky the moon is full and round
In his heart the migrant never far from his beloved Homeground.
...

On the grassy mound on the grave in the backyard the windblown wildflowers nod and sway
Where Sam the faithful farm dog at rest forever lay
By the old rusted tin machinery shed his bones are in decay
From Jimmy his beloved master's house some twenty metres away.
...

Greg a man of medium height and build is in his late sixties with the silver of time in his hair
In the early sixties he left his old Hometown in England for to experience life in the big World out there
He never did return to Scunthorpe or again set foot on his old Homeland shore
He grows old in this southern Country where one day his bones will rest forever more.
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I should have said sorry to Matthew
And I should have kissed Jelna goodbye
And I should have asked Joan out to dinner
Instead I'm left to wonder why
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One might say a fine citizen though his behaviour at times seems odd
He hates the next door neighbour because he worships a different God
Though I would have thought that a true God would embrace all of Humanity
The Gods that so many believe in thrive only in disharmony.
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I did not ask you to pray for me since I don't need your prayers
Go pray for yourself and your family and dwell on your own cares
If you are so convinced of a life hereafter your own soul you must save
There's nothing out there Mister your life ends in the grave.
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You say your name will live forever and your poems are destined to live on
And your words of genius will be quoted in centuries after you've gone
Into the non existent hereafter though your poems bound to insure your fame
At least that is how 'twould seem you see it that your's will be an immortal name.
...

Are you one of those people that the mosquitos love to bite
Do you hear them buzzing in your bedroom under the cloak of night
You wave your hands above your head for to frighten them away
But still you hear them buzzing as hovering near they stay.
...