Red Is The Blood We Bleed
It is a very natural thing for one to love their Land of birth
And think that their Homeland Country is the finest Land on Earth
In his Lay of the last Minstrel Walter Scott said it all
Often with tears the migrant the old Homeland recall.
But when we feel that our race is superior it is there the wrong come in
Though we never hear of a war on racism a war we well might win
As racism can lead to war it is a moral sin
For those who feel that they have the right to judge you by the colour of your skin.
The National flags in the wind on the flag posts wave on War Memorial day
As we remember those who fought and died in past wars fought far away
Of war heroes and war victories we may feel proud to brag
But is it the war dead we respect or the colour of our National flag?
The war dead we commemorate died for justice, peace and liberty
But many in the World of today know of oppression and live in abject poverty
If the war dead could only speak many of them well might say
We would not fight a war again were we living today?
It is a very natural thing for to love one's own Homeland
And the nostalgic tears of ageing migrants are not hard to understand
But feelings of superiority of race to war can often lead
And we may be black or brown or white but red is the blood we bleed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Am Not Proud Of My Country
I love my Homeland Country and of it's scenic sights I sing
But I don't say I am proud to be Irish as proud has a patriotic ring
And those who feel proud of their Country often go that step too far
As pride leads to patriotism and patriotism leads to war.
I have never waved my Country's flag at parade or football game
And I am not Proud of my country though I love it just the same
For pride and love are different as different as can be
And pride that leads to patriotism has never appealed to me.
Some people on flag post in their front yard fly their Country's flag
And I am proud of my Country you hear them proudly brag
But others worthiness and cultures they never could embrace
And without saying so they are telling you that ours is a superior race.
I am proud of my Country you will never hear me say
Though many feel that pride and patriotism are good and quite okay
But how many young men have died in wars due to patriotic pride
Love brings people together whilst pride and patriotism divide.
I have never been a soldier or had honours to my name
And I am not Proud of my Country though I love it just the same
And those who feel proud of their Country can take that step too far
For pride leads to patriotism and patriotism can lead to war.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Racism Is Around Me Everywhere
Of human ignorance I am almost in despair
For racism is around me everywhere
But like they say sheer ignorance is bliss
Just like Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss.
Some people carry their honour in a flag
And of their Nationality they brag
They feel superior and they differentiate
And against those who are different they discriminate.
So many people still judged by their race
For such there never ought to be a place
'A fair go' those untruthful words I do recall
There is no such a thing as a 'fair go for all'.
Though we live in a so called democracy
Of racism we never will be free
They judge you by where you come from and the colour of your skin
For many equality and respect seems impossible to win.
It's been awhile since the days of Martin Luther King
His name to it has a familiar ring
If against racism he did not choose to strive
Today the great man he would be alive.
So many holding the reins of power not spiritually aware
And racism is around me everywhere
And racism only leads to division and war
Just goes to show how ignorant some are.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Reading Of Racism In Ireland
I always feel disappointed when of racism I read
And when I read of it in Ireland I feel very sad indeed
For racism in society should never have a place
And people should never be judged on their colour or their race.
As the Land of saints and scholars Ireland was known Worldwide
And the Irish people suffered and their rights to them denied
But the Irish in their sense of fair play could take a certain pride
And for their human rights and liberty the sons of Ireland died.
Poor migrants from Romania their possessions weigh light
To live and work in Ireland do they not have the right?
They may come un-invited but their numbers only small
And the Irish too are migrants as history will recall.
I read it's the Irish media that fans racism's flame
If this be so of their bad work they must feel a great shame
They cannot say in years to come the fault was never ours
When they first used the noxious spray that poisoned all the flowers.
I am an Irish migrant far from my native shore
And others treat me with respect than that one could not ask for more
A fair go for all people and for everyone fair play
Those words from centuries ago are relevant today.
poem by Francis Duggan
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We Do Not Need Racists
There are good and bad people in every race and creed
And racism is a thing the human race does not need
Prejudice and mistrust to war only lead
And red is the colour of the blood we all bleed.
We do not need racists since they cause offence
And nothing good can be said in their defence
Consumed by their hatreds their spirit is small
We salute those who stand for a fair go for all.
There is no such a thing as a superior race
And the fair go for all the fair minded embrace
On your feelings on prejudice leave none in doubt
Against racism don't be afraid to speak out.
In the Human World there's no one race to the fore
We are only mere mortals that and nothing more
To the scythe of the reaper we eventually must fall
So here's to egalatarianism and a fair go for all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Along The War Avenue Of honour
Along the war Avenue of Honour a plaque to a dead soldier nailed to every tree
Brave young men who died in battle their reward for their bravery
They died in the war said to end all wars in the killing fields of World war one
But many wars since and far too many bloody battles and peace in the World not yet won.
Wars started by silly ageing men who send the young for them to die
Ageing men who themselves will die of old age and their twilight years they will enjoy,
ageing males heroes of their people we honour cowards as heroes one might say
The young men will go to war for them and the young men with their young lives pay.
The war supposed to end all wars long over almost nine decades since have gone by
But many wars have been fought since then and war pilots dropp their big bombs from the night sky
But suppose that's what will always happen when we give all of our power away
To silly and ageing male war men who with hair dyes cover their gray.
Along the war avenue of honour long dead soldiers names on every tree
Young noble men who died in battle far from homeland and family
In what was to be the war to end all wars yet we don't have much wisdom to show
For the loss of so many fine young men well over eight decades ago.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Losers Never Write The War History
The losers never write the war history that's something we already know
Yet for the many wars fought through the ages we do not have the wisdom to show
That victory too comes at a huge cost for war the price is huge to pay
For families who grieve for their dead members their sense of loss with them will stay
Until they themselves go to the reaper the reaper who claims one and all
The loved one war had taken from them with great sadness they will recall
But the dead to life cannot be returned better to live as a coward than die brave
For none has yet come back for to tell us that there is a life beyond the grave,
They died for their God and their Country of dead war heroes some well may brag
Those who place too much worth on the unknowable and the colour of their Nation's flag
I for one find religion and patriotism confusing of god and war heroes hymns and songs are sung
But surely it is a misnomer that only the good do die young
And yet from war we have not learned young lives are lost for wars to be won
And if lasting peace ever does come it won't be through the barrel of a gun
poem by Francis Duggan
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Honour The Good Living
Honour the good living and respect the dead
And learn from the past as a wise one once said
Though many leaders never learn from history
Wise people do not become political leaders it does seem to me,
The war supposed to end all wars was fought decades ago
and still the numbers of the war dead does grow
The war like leaders war before peace do choose
But of war it is said that even winners do lose
Of love of their Country some are known to brag
Though such people carry their pride in a flag
Patriotic fervour the path to war lead
And less of Nationalism in the World we do need
We should learn from the past and then look ahead
And honour the good living and respect the dead.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Nationalists
Nationalists of all Nations are similar 'twould seem
Their National flag on flagpost in their front yard is there for all to be seen
Their message is we are superior to every other Race
And the culture of others we never will embrace.
And one thing about Nationalists they never have been rare
I see and meet them every day for they live everywhere
Proud of their Nationality and full of patriotic pride
In their naivety they do believe that God is on their side.
Nationalists of all Nations multiculturalism do not embrace
For the culture of other Races than their's in their lives there's not a place
They are not egalatarin or never pretend to be
They merely feel superior to all of humanity.
You will find them in every Race and they live everywhere
Nationalists they are quite plentiful they never have been rare
Their National flag in their front yards say more than words can say
They feel so much superior and they've always been that way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Without Death, Bloodshed and Suffering
Without death, bloodshed and suffering wars are never won
And only hatred and grief survives when the fighting is done
And war heroes honoured in every war street parade
By war men the memories of war not allowed for to fade
The politicians the praises of the war dead do sing
Their politicizing of war for sake of power not an honourable thing
For God, Flag and Country and National Pride
Far too many good young people in wars have died
one war leads to another war as the wise one did say
And millions for patriotism in wars with their lives do pay
For the sake of war the war men create us against they
And for the love of a flag the young and brave die in wars today
And on Rememberance Day the war men parade up and down
In a show of patriotism through the streets of the town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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For To Celebrate War
For to celebrate war there's always one more parade
And out of war warriors heroes are made
Only the good die young some are known to say
But I know good people who are old and gray.
The praises of war leaders many may sing
But those who declare war on others do it as a power thing
Though many with my thinking may not agree
Those who declare war on terror are major terrorists to me.
Millions of human beings through the centuries in wars have suffered and died
And wars through the ages have been fought Worldwide
And still we have wars and talks of more wars today
Of our human capacity to learn from past mistakes of us what does this say?
It can lead to acts of aggression patriotic pride
And religion, nationalism, patriotism and racism are the things that divide
People of all Nations who live everywhere
And over them more wars are fought in the big World out there.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Racism Still Sadly Continues...
Racism comes in many different shapes and forms
Sadly I have had my fair share since I’ve been born
Judged before I have been even given a chance
Delaying my future and for my career to advance
My parents tell me of stories they have had to endure
I wish racism was a sickness with a dose of medication to cure
Thankfully there are good hearted and educated people
Who can look beyond skin colour and treat us all as an equal
Why would another person’s skin colour be such an issue?
Get to know them; they might have things in common just like you
I am so fed up of hearing “They from so and so, they all the same”
Everyone has differences but skin colour is not to blame
I wonder sometimes is it because the racist themselves are afraid to mix
Who knows, I am only looking for a solution to get it fixed
It’s a major problem none of us like or need,
How sad to hear, a racist sees skin colour the only reason to want to make you bleed
You see films like ‘Mississippi Burning’
I think to myself that was then but when are racist going to start learning?
If humans never saw in colour, what would it be like then?
I am sure everyone would get along and call each other friend
I hope my kids and the next generation never get to witness racism first hand
Lets pray for them racism was a issue in the past that no longer stands
Life is hard as it is, without the need of racism
Like supporting our family and giving our kids a good education
Ways to stop racism should begin at home and school
Getting along will be our biggest advantage, our strongest tool
I did have people who I did call friends
But their own racist views meant our friendship had to end
It does not matter, if your white, black or brown
You should feel safe to walk and talk in any town
Racism has to be erased from every country and every street
Knowing racism is not an issue when theirs someone new we meet
Everyone has the right to go anywhere they choose
Because whilst racism is still alive, no one wins, everybody lose
To those facing racism, all I can say is be brave and stay strong
To those racist, deep down in your heart you must know it’s wrong?
God blessed us by putting us here, giving us all different shades of colour
Were not meant to have the same colour skin, but we all can respect one another
Martin Luther King Jr said in 1963 “I have a dream”
But up to now it has yet to be seen
Amit Chubbah - 21.04.2008
poem by Amit Chubbah
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No Difference
The other day I wrote a poem
and a friend asked me how I
could feel the pain of her kind,
as she was a different race from me.
You are white and I am black,
so how could you feel the pain I felt?
The answer was simple
we were not of a different race.
There is only one race, the human race.
We maybe different in the colour of our skin,
but we share each other’s pain.
I share yours and you share mine
whenever we are struck by grief.
We may eat different food,
but we both breathe the same air.
We see through different coloured eyes,
but we both see the same things.
There is no difference between us
except within our colour
and I am a man and you are a woman,
but that is where the difference ends.
We both have a heart that beats
and lungs that breathe in air.
No difference there.
If we are cut, we bleed
and our blood is red.
No difference there.
Therefore, you see I can feel your hurt,
feel the tears when you cry.
Now my question is if we were blind
what colour would you see?
The answer is simple,
the same colour as me.
There is no difference between us;
we each belong to the same race.
We are the same,
but with a different face.
16 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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To Doris
She said I come from a land flanked by the warmer seas
A flat brown land that stretch for miles with hardly any trees
In my dreams I see the big game parks and the open plains I see
'Oh' Africa my Africa I hear you calling me.
I hear the male lion cough and roar and the wild hyena scream
And the Natives dance before my eyes so real to me they seem
I hear them singing in the night and their drumming I too hear
And Africa close to my heart though miles away from here.
Doris accent is a give away as accents often are
You'd know that to get to this great Land that she's had to travel far
Her lovely South African accent one never should mistake
The migrant may live far from home but ties that bind are hard to break.
A farmer's daughter from South Africa her life story ought be told
A woman close to eighty years though she doesn't look that old
A teenager in the thirties the hard life she has been through
Her only brother a prisoner of war in Europe in world war two.
Her ill mother convinced her son had died lost the will to live on
And he returned home to the tragic news that his mum was dead and gone
There's sorrow blood and tears in war and tragedy as well
And for mums with sons on battlefields life must be living hell.
She raised five sons in South Africa and one died at twenty five
Brain damaged by measles as a child she helped him to survive
And Doris with great sadness says that her son's life was far too brief
There's ups and downs in life she says and there's happiness and grief.
With her son and daughter in law she lives east of Melbourne now by road off 'One Tree Hill'
A woman from a far Country and suppose she always will
Feel homesick for her home Country, I love Australia she say
But my homeland is South Africa the brown Land far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Flag
See the glorious stars and stripes,
Floating over there;
See how gracefully they wave
In the summer air.
We love to see that starry flag,
Wave in peace with ease,
And its colors, red, white and blue,
Unfurled to the breeze.
God grant that flag may ever wave
O'er our native land,
Where sons of freemen are united
In a happy band,
To celebrate the glorious Fourth,
The day we should adore;
Hail each anniversary day,
Now and evermore.
Our fathers fought beneath that flag
In the days of yore,
To gain their freedom from British laws,
Which they could not endure.
The cry was then for liberty,
On land and on sea;
They gained the glorious victory --
Our country now is free.
The land of Columbia's sons,
To-day is filled with joy;
Every heart should beat as one,
In the blessings we enjoy.
We should love our native land,
Where our fathers died,
We should keep the country free --
The early pilgrim's pride.
See the glorious stars and stripes,
Waving over there,
See the starry emblem, friends,
Floating in the air.
Proud it waves o'er our land,
Where it has waved for years,
May every freeman greet that flag
With three rousing cheers.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Tom Zart's = Freedom & Our Flag = 2012
FREEDOM
In their new uniforms
The young march off
Not knowing who shall return.
With a proud devotion
They brandish their flag
Leaving loved ones to wonder and yearn.
May we all be buried
By all of our children
Is an ancient tribal prayer.
They're so easy to lose
But so hard to forget
Such a burden for a parent to bear.
Oh, the taste of victory
Shall soon be forgotten
But, never that which was lost.
For those rows of white headstones
In peaceful green fields
Make it easy to tally the cost.
America has survived all attempts to destroy
Knowing the cruelty of war
And, we who remain
Must help keep her free
For those who can march no more!
OUR FLAG
Our flag is fabric wove of thread
Carried by heroes live and dead.
She stands for justice and courage too
With her colors; red, white and blue.
For all who serve her, there'll be cheers
For any who die, there'll be tears
For all who love her, honor will prevail
Any who harm her, shall suffer and fail.
How many moms have cried before
As they sent their children to war?
How many dads have not returned
Because our freedom must be earned?
Wars were waged where brave men died
As patriots fought side by side.
Our flag is still the pearl of Earth
Because of those who prove her worth.
At The Grave Of The Unknown Soldier
He was a brave soldier he died young and brave
And for more than six decades he lay in his grave
And still at the dawning of each war memorial day
At his grave site a young bugler the last post does play.
Known as the Unknown Soldier one without a name
Still he had a mum and a dad just the same
And when he did not return home when the fighting was done
They grieved at their loss and they wept for their son.
The war to end all wars of all wars 'tis said
But more wars are fought and we have more war dead
And at the grave of the unknown soldier the last post is played
And to honour the war dead another parade.
Old war men do tell us young soldiers fight and die
For freedom and liberty that is a lie
They went to war when young they are now old and gray
Some grow old not wiser some are known to say.
That they were fighting for freedom and justice they believed to be true
And they were quite gallant to give them their due
But many deprived of their human rights in the World of today
And that does seem a very sad thing for to say.
With heads bowed old men showing their years in gray
At the grave of the Unknown Soldier at the dawn of the day
In silence do listen as a young bugler the last post does play
For one who fought and died in a war far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Black or White
You say I'm white while others say black,
Why should my colour cause so much flak,
When you say I'm black it brings on a frown,
If you looked closer you'd see I am brown.
Across the world we come in differing shades,
As humans we all have unique facades,
Some are light while others are tanned,
Yet underneath we're all the same brand.
Why does it bother us why all the fuss,
Some spend hours in the sun trying to look like us,
I'll tell you this though I know its not right,
But some of us even try to be white.
Native Americans are mainly red,
Is that justification for shooting them dead,
In Asia you have those other fellows,
Who's skin colour comes in differing yellows.
I then look at you and it makes me think,
You're not really white you're a shade of pink.
When you get hurt it's certainly true,
Your skin colour turns to black and blue.
When we become unwell it has to be said,
It can make us all look like the living dead,
Prejudice against colour is not the way,
You can guarantee it will cause affray.
Regardless of colour why do we care,
It's time we were all made fully aware,
As humans there's nothing we cannot achieve,
Regardless of colour we have got to believe.
Just cut a finger that is the seed,
To prove beyond doubt that all of us bleed,
Take a closer look no it's not in your head,
All of our bloods are the same shade of red.
And sure as the stars glisten in the sky,
We will all live and we'll surely die,
This only highlights that we all must strive,
To build a bond so that we can survive.
As we grow crops you can make planes,
We can build shelters to help when it rains,
You can build homes while we raise the cattle,
United as one we can win this battle.
When we look at each other let's see just a face,
Instead of us thinking I wonder what race,
Colour means nothing when all's said and done,
For us all to prosper we must live as one.
As human beings we really must stand,
Together united hand in hand,
We're all truly equal keep that in mind,
No culture or race should be undermined.
Colour's like beauty it's only skin deep,
It's what's underneath that we need to keep,
Then we can live in a world without war,
That very word racism we should all abhor..
We can all live in comfort with no need for strife,
loving our neighbours what a wonderful life,
It's not just a dream it's something we can do,
But only as one can we make it come true.
It's now time as a species we all faced the fact,
That our planet is doomed unless there's a pact,
We must end this hatred we've got for each other,
Only then can we live life as sister and brother.
When we accept this all conflict will cease,
Only then will we achieve a definitive peace,
Our past indiscretions we can learn to forgive,
Together as humans is how we must live.
Our future depends on our being collective,
We'll all surely die by being racially selective,
Only then can we say we've at last got it right,
There's far more to this life than just,
‘'Black Or White''
I Was Raised On Rebel Music
I was raised on rebel music and rebel verse and song
That stirred up patriotic feelings but could not right a past wrong
And what now does it matter when all is said and done
Forget the long dead heroes and battles lost and won.
The ballad of Robert Emmett and Wolfe Tone's lonely grave
Were such men quite foolhardy or were they truly brave?
To be hung drawn and quartered for your beliefs is not a pleasant thing
And little value to them now if others of them sing.
The ballad of Sir Roger Casement also known as The Lonely Banna Strand
Executed as a traitor to his Nation but a hero in Ireland
A hero to one can be a villian to another at least that's what they say
And for love of his adopted Country with his life he had to pay.
I was raised on rebel songs and stories such as those men of ninety eight
And in every war that has been fought new heroes they create
But what value are dead heroes they are helpless where they lay
And their too brief lives were wasted seeing war is still waged today.
The founders of the Land League live in Irish history
Parnell and Michael Davitt I learned of their bravery
John Mitchel the Young Ireland leader by boat transported many a sea mile
To Van Diemen's Land in Australia to imprisonment and exile.
I was raised on rebel music and rebel verse and song
Of brave young men who died for their Country to such a background I belong
But I never wished to emulate them never even as a boy
I would rather grow to be an old man and of natural causes die
poem by Francis Duggan
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Your pride in a flag
Just a small part of this World of your Nation you brag
And you wave your patriotism in your National flag
If your team win the International game today
Your boss won't give you extra in your next week's pay.
You feel so indifferent to people from elsewhere
Remember there's a World called the big World out there
And united we stand and divided we fall
Those words apply to all Nations and to one and all.
Tonight in the bar-room you will drink till late
And with your pub friends today's win celebrate
A win for your Nation in such a big game
Though only the players involved in the victory will know of the fame
And the financial windfall to them that this victory will bring
And of their praises you and those like you do sing
And are the supporters of the losing team worse off than you
Your pride in a flag tell me that is not true?
For pride of their flag young men go to war
And in victory boast of how marvellous they are
And for pride of their flag far too many have died
And so much division created by pride.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Strange Cocktail
In their National flag they do take such great pride
And they feel superior with god on their side
And their leader he tells them of us against they
But when they fight his war from them he's far away.
And not different to their leader is the leader of they
And they too believe everything that he does say
About those they've never met or they never will know
We make our own enemy and we choose our own foe.
A terrorist is someone that society create
And racism and insults only give rise to hate
And terrorism as such is hard to define
Between all out war and suicide bombing where can one draw
the line.
Nationalism, Patriotism and Religion when these three you combine
They make for a strange cocktail like vodka, whiskey and wine,
They stir up strong feelings and hatred takes to flame
And resentment it leads them to great acts of shame.
On the flagpost in their front yard their National flag is waving in the wind
In the heart of the war-like the extreme patriot you'll find
And their dishonourable and cowardly leader who in war does not fight
The hatred for those different in them does ignite.
poem by Francis Duggan
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