Tag Archive | Resistance

The Day The Phoenix Rises 

This poem draws on the stories of my ancestors who told me about the importance of the phoenix in guarding the laws of Scotland and Ireland and the belief that our countries will finally be free of British rule on the day the phoenix rises. It is for that reason I have given it the title The Day The Phoenix Rises. I hope you enjoy the read. 
The Day The Phoenix Rises

Outsiders

we were scorned on arrival 

in a cold uncaring place 

the locals claimed we were not the same as them 

using lsnguage and religion as excuses to label us 

boasting of their achievements

as part of an empire

they were unaware their own culture was scorned 

Scots or Irish a Celt can never be 

reborn as a Brit

when they were told this 

the new order got angry 

they were beyond unhappy

when the Irish community formed a football club 

which would be open to those of  all faiths and none 

when trophies were won we were feared and hated 

the angry brigade felt threatened 

that their fragile identity had been questioned 

there were suggestions we should go home 

as those with blood on their hands

conveniently forgot  it was they 

who did the clearing 

which left us dispossessed 

the victims of cultural genocide

in the Celtic heartlands from which I am descended 

 I’ve always my blood is the blood of twin tribes 

both of which were marginalised 

the Irish  and the Islanders share 

a history of oppression

with stolen lands taken from the people 

and given to those who would obey colonial orders

without questioning why 

in Culloden and Atherny 

the pain lives on  in the lyrics of our songs

and the hearts of those who know 

the history the oppressers tried to ban 

along with our culture and traditions 

that however was a big mistake to make

in their determination to break us 

they inspired a spirit of resistance

they will not quell 

hell will freeze over before we ever accept 

the label outsiders 

It is not who we are nor will it ever be 

our freedom will come on the day the phoenix rises 

to take us home from the ashes of a ruined estate 

© Gayle Smith 2017 

Sliver Linings 

Hey Readers I have wanted to write this  poem for more than two years, however only now have I managed to craft it in a way with which I am totally happy. The story relates to the first Monday after our independence referendum, which coincidentally was also the day after Donegal lost both senior and minor that’s (Under 18’s ) All Ireland Gaelic Football Finals.  Now as you know some people like American Football , and some people even like cricket , but Gaelic Games have always been a passion of mine and Donegal have always been my team. My loyalty stretches back to 1977 when we couldn’t win a raffle let alone an All Ireland title  so nobody can ever accuse me of glory hunting. As I’m sure you’ll understand by that Monday evening I was in real need of cheering up and attending  the launch of a new collection of poetry by  Jim Carruth and listening to some songs by Alan Citizen Smart before I reached the venue was I think the perfect pick me up after such a difficult few days. I have given the poem the title  Silver Linings I hope you enjoy the read. 

Silver Linings

It was the Monday after the referendum

still reeling from the aftershock 

of defeat 

I retreat to the world of poetry 

as I so often do in difficult times

I was attending a book launch 

of a friend’s new collection

the perfect pick me up  

after the dejection of the previous few days.

as I made my way to the venue 

I heard a smart citizen sing 

In a last act of resistance 

to a small gathering of supporters 

there were no reporters present 

to misreport his views

Buchanan Street never made the six o clock news 

as the curtain came down

 on the first act of an unfinished play 

I stayed till the last  song ended 

in the sun of an autumn evening 

I left believing the dream had not died 

it had just been put on hold till  later 

as I sat in the comfort of the theatre 

listening to the words of a poet 

who paints images with phrases 

which he places in carefully constructed patterns 

I thought not of tartan but the red blood of internationalism

and the clear blue skies a million tomorrow’s will bring 

when birds with broken wings fly again 

on my journey home I met a friend from Cork 

who informed me Sam would not be coming home to the hills 

he had a kingdom to visit this time 

on hearing this I looked for silver linings 

and was reminded that Sam like Scotland 

had taken a different path

 to the one I would have liked 

but on that Monday night 

I knew the dream had not died 

and when the time is right 

the bonnie blue banner will fly free 

in a nation cleansed from the stains of yesterday 

and dressed in green and gold 

Sam once more will see the hills 

@ Gayle Smith 2017