Hussein will hang.
Is that the only strategic plan?
Will the Sunnis and the Shiites
Still kill each other if they can?
Because he laid waste to those
Who did not tow the party line
He dies. Another death-
And did he have those weapons
Of destruction after all?
All was bad in the city of Baghdad
Before Saddam went on the run.
That it’s bad again today
Is getting easier to say
As peoples lives are blown away
By waves of suicide bombers.
Washed up like flotsam
In our face from faraway
To reach our TV screens:
Dead bodies making news
For deadlines,
As regular as the tidal flow.
Fifteen more are dead;
How many more to go?
The piano plays on regardless
And the tenors raise the roof
But around that deadly gallows
In the capital of war
The only one with dignity
Is the man condemned to die-
And the hangman deals the cards.
I MAGINE I F
Oh God above forgive me
In the middle of this night;
Yet by the power of Heaven
The universe is all but mine.
I hear the silence and it means
I’m on my own. I’m here.
The mirror of this moment’s real.
What I see I also deeply feel:
The shape and size of my own cell.
The door’s the first I see so well:
It’s in my eyes, it’s always closed;
It’s never mine the space it’s in-
The prison owns that piece of light
And stores it up far out of sight.
It’s not for me but my day will come
I’ll stand there free like everyone
To take the road that starts off there;
So maybe now I’ll say a prayer.
Thank God I have this time to think
Of how I stepped back from the brink.
I’m still your friend-I hope so God.
The walls say yes to me aloud.
My bed is there behind me flat:
Dreams come seldom where I’m at.
Not too far of another day
Will slowly push the heavy stone away
That makes this place so like a tomb
And I will travel towards the light;
I’ll leave this room, I’ll leave this womb,
I’m on my painful journey down.
It’s awful dark. I’m on my own.
Now black is not that black at all-
If it fades much more I’m going to fall!
Little light of day, my eyes are open.
I’m glad my God that you have spoken:
Now I am yours and you are mine-
Daylight at last and still there’s time.
T HE S ILENCER
I travelled on the Luas at last:
A silent maiden voyage
Across Seán Heuston Bridge,
Its brazen tracks had taken.
By red bricked ill gotten streets,
Deserted faded and neglected.
Only a single one-way traffic lane
The silent snake has left beside it
As it steals through Jervis Street
And by The Smithfield Market
To the very heart of Dublin city-
Still without a sound-the silencer.
B Y THE P OND
Kookaburras came like Carmelites
Arriving reverently in twos;
Landing quietly without a coo
On the paperbark tea trees By the pond.
The silence snaps suddenly
At the Kookaburra’s laugh.
A ballet corps of blue water lilies
Ready to dance.
M ONTMARTRE
By metro to the ancient Montmartre hills
Where windmills once steadily turned
To mill the grain and to crush the grape;
Artists who adorn this place with art
Will paint you there in La Place du Tertre.
Inside the dimly lit Salle de Saint Pierre
I saw an enthralling expo of ancient dolls:
Elegant ones made in La Belle Epoque
Then some primitive poupées from Peru;
Pins in old African ones to work voodoo.
The snow melts slow and so silently falls
Off a tree that’s high in the sloping green
And I take one more cup of café au lait-
Drinking to the pearl of Paris out there,
The jewel on the crown-the Sacre Coeur;
Three rising, winding Byzantine domes
All in white, this grand landmark in stone:
Basilica of all travellers and pilgrims true,
Capped by The Cross up high in the blue.
Another day over, the cafés are closing:
Candles on tables for two are blown out-
The secrets of love on faces were seen;
Banter of people now out on the streets-
Glowing from wine and of being together:
So happy and merry in twos and in fours,
Fixing of scarves and
Is that the only strategic plan?
Will the Sunnis and the Shiites
Still kill each other if they can?
Because he laid waste to those
Who did not tow the party line
He dies. Another death-
And did he have those weapons
Of destruction after all?
All was bad in the city of Baghdad
Before Saddam went on the run.
That it’s bad again today
Is getting easier to say
As peoples lives are blown away
By waves of suicide bombers.
Washed up like flotsam
In our face from faraway
To reach our TV screens:
Dead bodies making news
For deadlines,
As regular as the tidal flow.
Fifteen more are dead;
How many more to go?
The piano plays on regardless
And the tenors raise the roof
But around that deadly gallows
In the capital of war
The only one with dignity
Is the man condemned to die-
And the hangman deals the cards.
I MAGINE I F
Oh God above forgive me
In the middle of this night;
Yet by the power of Heaven
The universe is all but mine.
I hear the silence and it means
I’m on my own. I’m here.
The mirror of this moment’s real.
What I see I also deeply feel:
The shape and size of my own cell.
The door’s the first I see so well:
It’s in my eyes, it’s always closed;
It’s never mine the space it’s in-
The prison owns that piece of light
And stores it up far out of sight.
It’s not for me but my day will come
I’ll stand there free like everyone
To take the road that starts off there;
So maybe now I’ll say a prayer.
Thank God I have this time to think
Of how I stepped back from the brink.
I’m still your friend-I hope so God.
The walls say yes to me aloud.
My bed is there behind me flat:
Dreams come seldom where I’m at.
Not too far of another day
Will slowly push the heavy stone away
That makes this place so like a tomb
And I will travel towards the light;
I’ll leave this room, I’ll leave this womb,
I’m on my painful journey down.
It’s awful dark. I’m on my own.
Now black is not that black at all-
If it fades much more I’m going to fall!
Little light of day, my eyes are open.
I’m glad my God that you have spoken:
Now I am yours and you are mine-
Daylight at last and still there’s time.
T HE S ILENCER
I travelled on the Luas at last:
A silent maiden voyage
Across Seán Heuston Bridge,
Its brazen tracks had taken.
By red bricked ill gotten streets,
Deserted faded and neglected.
Only a single one-way traffic lane
The silent snake has left beside it
As it steals through Jervis Street
And by The Smithfield Market
To the very heart of Dublin city-
Still without a sound-the silencer.
B Y THE P OND
Kookaburras came like Carmelites
Arriving reverently in twos;
Landing quietly without a coo
On the paperbark tea trees By the pond.
The silence snaps suddenly
At the Kookaburra’s laugh.
A ballet corps of blue water lilies
Ready to dance.
M ONTMARTRE
By metro to the ancient Montmartre hills
Where windmills once steadily turned
To mill the grain and to crush the grape;
Artists who adorn this place with art
Will paint you there in La Place du Tertre.
Inside the dimly lit Salle de Saint Pierre
I saw an enthralling expo of ancient dolls:
Elegant ones made in La Belle Epoque
Then some primitive poupées from Peru;
Pins in old African ones to work voodoo.
The snow melts slow and so silently falls
Off a tree that’s high in the sloping green
And I take one more cup of café au lait-
Drinking to the pearl of Paris out there,
The jewel on the crown-the Sacre Coeur;
Three rising, winding Byzantine domes
All in white, this grand landmark in stone:
Basilica of all travellers and pilgrims true,
Capped by The Cross up high in the blue.
Another day over, the cafés are closing:
Candles on tables for two are blown out-
The secrets of love on faces were seen;
Banter of people now out on the streets-
Glowing from wine and of being together:
So happy and merry in twos and in fours,
Fixing of scarves and
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