The Non Swimming Man Of The Sea
He had his own fishing boat for many years though he never ventured far out to sea
And from fishing he made a good living enough to upkeep his family
He was born and he still lives near the ocean and the ocean holds no fears for him
But to many it may seem a bit strange that he's never learned how to swim.
Though he left school young for to fish with his father he's a bright man and nobody's fool
And his son and daughter live in the big city their children in Primary school
Two years ago his wife she died suddenly they had been married for thirty five years
And though for her his grieving is over thoughts of her still move him to tears.
A year younger than him she felt quite well till a massive heart attack struck her down
And one day he too will go to join her in the grave yard in the sea side Town
He had a wish to be cremated and his ashes spread on the sea shore
But to his wife he must remain true and with her he will lay forever more.
He sold his fishing boat when his wife died his great zest for life with her died
He now lives on the old age pension and from his cottage he can hear the tide
Rage against the rocks on the fore shore the huge waves they rumble and roll
The immortal voice of the ocean is ever soothing to his soul.
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poem by Francis Duggan
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Give Me A Cause To Fight For
Give me a cause to fight for I'll fight for it as long as the cause is worthy and just
As long as the cause it does not entail violence or secrecy that does lead to mistrust
As long as the cause is of benefit to others like the forgotten children of the lesser god
Poor refugees who flee from war and famine the Stateless and the homeless and downtrod.
Give me a cause to fight for I'll fight for it though not in any violent way I'll fight
On Human Rights one never should stay silent to live free of persecution should be everybody's right
Even in some so called Democratic Countries political prisoners are being tortured and subjected to the worst of mental as well as physical abuse
All crimes against humanity are abhorrent and for them there cannot be an excuse.
Give me a cause to fight for I'll fight for it as it should be every Human Being's right to live free
Of religious and racial discrimination and of hunger, Homelessness and poverty
We often hear in post war propaganda they have their freedom now that the war is won
But those who say such things never realize that freedom never does come through the barrel of a gun.
Give me a cause to fight for I'll fight for it though I'll fight the fight with words and words alone
I am not without sin I am just a sinner so I won't be the first to cast the stone
In this so called age of enlightenment people's Human Rights upon are still trampled and bad things happen behind the prison wall
So give me a cause to fight for and I'll fight for it I will speak out for a fair go for all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mr Tony Blair
Like every British Prime Minister he has purpose in his stare
And few are as good at talking tough as Mr Tony Blair
Once the World's greatest Empire to much now does not amount
And lessons that are in the past are never taken into account.
The British Government once took part of Iraq and formed a new State
And re-named Iraq's nineteenth province the Kingdom of Kuwait
And one war leads to another war look at Iraq today
A land ravaged by war where the Brits play a major part along with the U S A.
The winners always write the history in Ireland Cromwell left his trail of shame
But like every other war winner he did not take any blame
For the diplacement and deaths of thousands of innocent people streets signs now honour his ill fame
Yet in England's sister Country his is still a loathed name.
And the old tradition of waging war carried on by Mr Blair
In this wrongful war waged in Iraq he is a major player
And Saddam was the loser his statue was dragged down
If he had won today he'd be the God of Baghdad Town.
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poem by Francis Duggan
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You Tell Me Of Your Australian History
You tell me of your Australian history your ancestors were British and Irish pioneers
But your history in this Land is not an old history just two centuries and twenty years
And in time that may seem quite a long span though the combined life spans of three people nothing more
Your ancestors hardly were Aussies they came here from a distant shore.
The first Australians have lived in this Country for longer than most care to know
Their ancestors came here from Asia more than sixty thousand years ago
They are indigenous to this Country all others have links to elsewhere
Yet they still struggle for recognition and that to me seems quite unfair.
Dispossessed by the Northern invaders they never did get back their Land
And that they are now ruled by white people I find that hard to understand
You talk of the history of this Land as if it were only two hundred years old
But then suppose the history of the ancient Dreamtime by white people will never be told.
I was not even born in this Country which makes you more Aussie than I
And though I'm not Nationalistic or Patriotic my heritage I won''t deny
You talk of your pioneering ancestors but why talk of Human history at all
If the history of the first Australians you do not see fit to recall.
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poem by Francis Duggan
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From History We've Not Learned At All
They have all but rid the World of Communism and given us Capitalism instead
And still millions are living in poverty and millions of children are crying to be fed
And still we have war, terrorism and famines of those will we ever be free
And the gap between the haves and the have nots only widening despite the spread of democracy.
Long gone is the McCarthy era the one who broadcast fear of red
The one who gave rise to the witchhunt of communists under the bed
Yet we still have rank and class distinction for to appease the subservient kind
And still the one eyed king is the ruler of us in the Land of the blind.
And still for God and Country men are warring though the supposed war to end all wars long gone
And still the intolerance of those different amongst the ruling classes live on
And still we have got xenophobia that always lead to crimes of hate
If we are all sisters and brothers how come everyone's not our mate.
We now have the big corporations that only benefit the greedy few
And that a booming economy too benefits the have nots is something that does not ring true
For even in the World's wealthiest Nations you will find poverty in the extreme
And those who talk of an egalatarian World are not realistic 'twould seem.
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poem by Francis Duggan
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The Sobs Of The Starving Children
We know about them from the radio and television and the hungry getting hungrier by the day
But we do not hear the sobs of the starving children from where we live they seem so far away
On the six o clock news at times we do see footage of hungry
children in a Land where poverty and disease is rife
And we feel a twinge of sadness that we cannot help them since we have got our own struggles in life.
Still the sobs of the hungry children are growing louder and
not all of them live in a far Country
And not all of them in the slums of the big city there's such a thing as hidden poverty
The single mother raises her brood on welfare and she has to struggle for to make ends meet
And they survive on bread and tea and milk and cornflakes since she cannot afford to buy them meat.
Banks and corporations make billions in yearly profits and we read and hear of their financial gain
But they don't help to feed the starving children and the growing scourge of poverty remain
A mile from where the billionaire lives there's poverty and hunger yet of their plight he does not wish to know
Still for him to grow wealthier others must grow poorer and
life goes on as it did years ago.
To find want you don't have that far to travel for poverty is everywhere and near
And though the starving children keep on sobbing louder their cries for food we do not seem to hear
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poem by Francis Duggan
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The Sugar Daddy's Woman
He is seventy four and she is twenty seven with light brown and wavy shoulder length hair
You've guessed right to say he is a sugar daddy one of the Town's wealthier a known millionaire
She feels she is better off with him than with one of her own age a fellow with only a few dollars to spare
He buys her a good time and he treats her as special and for her he does seem to genuinely care.
She is happy to be the sugar daddy's woman money speaks every language and 'tis always been that way
An old man with money better than a poor young bloke who will be a battler until his dying day
The Local young blokes of the older bloke jealous they find it hard to come to terms with how he
Could be going to bed with the Town's fairest young woman without realizing they are restricted by their poverty.
Than seventy four he looks many years younger at a guess one might say from fifty to fifty two
Amazing what a face lift and a bottle of brown hair dye as well as some makeup for an old face can do
She carries her first child it will be his seventh yet he feels as proud as any younger father to be
Her son or her daughter into wealth will be born and that sounds better than being born into poverty.
Despite she being pregnant she does look quite radiant her sugar daddy for her left his old wife
Money speaks every language seems all too apparent and she can look forward to a better life
Than being with one of her own age struggling to make ends meet when poverty bites in love quickly decay
And though she does not love her sugar daddy she does love his money a good reason with him why she ought to stay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Old Man's Saddest Story
We sat about the fireplace listening to the old man's tales
Of the youthful years of life he spent in lovely Alder Vale
He told some happy stories but he told some sad one's too
And the saddest story that he told I will relate to you.
'Twas the story of young Joaney Ryan who died whilst in her prime
When the fruits were ripe for picking in September's harvest time
She died at twenty three years old the valley beauty queen
And a fairer maid since her time the old man has not seen.
She was the most beautiful maid the old man ever knew
With sheeny hair of raven black and sparkling eyes of blue
Yet for all of her splendid beauty she did not show conceit
A better mannered girl than her no man could wish to meet.
Beauty it can take a woman quite a long, long way
But beauty quickly withers like the flowers that bloom in May,
You cannot judge a woman by her beauty or her dress
You can only judge a woman by the manner she possess.
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poem by Francis Duggan
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It Was Neilly Flynn Who Told Me
It was Neilly Flynn who told me 'it's a hungry belly game'
There's no money in verse writing you may not even win fame
At that time I had ambition and I chose to disagree
But now I know how right he was when his words come back to me.
All my great dreams and ambitions have all perished in their shell
And I'm just a mere poetaster a writer of doggerel
And the poesy inspiration in me never took to flame
And after years and years of effort I am still an unknown name.
But I feel all's not been wasted I get off on doggerel rhyme
And the inspiration I need it can come at anytime
Even in the depths of Winter there is great beauty to see
When the wattle flowers bloom yellow on the lovely wattle tree.
Even in the depths of Winter there is beauty everywhere
When the magpie tunes his whistle in the frosty morning air
And in the sunshine of mid morning there is beauty in the sky
When a flock of red rosellas to the nearby woodland fly.
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poem by Francis Duggan
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My Wish Is For A Perfect World
The World might well be different if religion and patriotism
died
And if mistrust and greed died with them there would be peace World wide
But with these four still prevalent what hope for harmony
And what hope for love and tolerance for all humanity.
That the clergy bless the troops for war seems hard to understand
To go and throw their lives away for religion and land
That man should kill his fellow man not written in God's will
The fifth commandment clearly state the words 'thou shalt not kill'.
Intolerance, greed and mistrust all of these go side by side
With lust for land and religion and patriotic pride
All these have given rise to wars and yet we've failed to see
The mistakes our fore fathers made nor learnt from history
I am not condemning religion in case you get me wrong
And I have great respect for those who worship God in song
But when religion lead men to war 'tis there the wrong come
in
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poem by Francis Duggan
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