Excerpt from ‘Ériú’

…When she started to sing
the suns knees fell from beneath it
as it gave in to the horizon;
Flinging its brush across the skies
in ever changing paintings
of pure art.

What are we but the whispering sands
Who drown beneath the waves
& what is man but where he stands
& where at night he lays?’

The first stars of the universe
emerged blinking from their beds
Drawn to her voice like dolphins
to the fisherman’s oar
As the Sídhe fled from the dunes
While the Fianna stalked Ben Bulben’s boar
& even Diarmuid turned his head
to hear her sing once more.

‘What is the gift of life to you
Denied the right to choose
Between the paths you see as true
& those designed to lose?’…

S.A. Murphy 2013

Excerpt from ‘After The Tiger’

…Of Ireland’s old, the remnants few
Still walk to smell the honeydew
Before the break of morning comes
Through concrete fields of damage done
We sacrifice, this mortal curse,
Our peace of mind for fattened purse
Whose Eden governed by the snake
Has hissed and cried ‘The West’s Awake!’
Allowing Adam and fair Eve
To profligate at which they please
And said ‘Live life at liberty
Look not for what the future sees
But bask in these prosperities!’

By our consent the corporate shift
Came on the North-Atlantic drift
With plastic Gods of chip-and-pin
That gave to all who wanted in
Who never had before nor then
But thus emboldened could pretend
That never would they starve again
A fate that fell on greater men

Now silently they flock once more
The swallows perched to leave this shore
Yet their’s is not a Spring return
For many seasons shall in turn
Pass longingly without the song
Of generations come and gone…

Excerpt from ‘The Ghost of Fionn McCumhaill’

…I’ve slept for many centuries
Beneath the city in the east
To waken only when the pleas
of Ireland in despair increased
Only the horn, with three shrill blasts
Was fit to wake me up at last
The tears I shed I recognise
As realer than this land my eyes
perceive as that as long before
When warriors from this island bore
To Roisin promises of lore
That in her need we would restore
her to her former glory for
her dignity and nothing more.

‘Though restless often were my dreams
The tyrannies of kings and queens
Could never kill the spirit gleaned
That lingers still in hills and streams
Much worse, and that which worries most
Is that we’ve sold, from coast to coast
Our sovereign gains to foreign banks
And with beguiling ‘please’ and ‘thanks’
The citizens in cities danced
To worship gods of circumstance.

‘But when they bled our nation dry
And left but never said goodbye
We acted as scorned lovers shamed
Who sought to squarely pass the blame
We shunned accountability;
A victim culture woe-is-me
turned farcical plutocracy
That never learned from history…

Excerpt from ‘Reflections’

…The day has come, but
they cover their tattoos
with the corporate logos
of importance
in offices
where voices
are a luxury
that doesn’t exist.

*

We still live
in the shadows of empire,
where the lost souls bullied
into time’s last second
end where beginnings
should have been;
The blood of our being,
The ancients of our ways.

I have seen them
fly south for a winter
that will see no spring,
Singing songs
from the island
of the coming,
the going.

Heroes all
of another
place & time…