Don’t believe the rhetoric <br />The sea of soundbites <br />Honouring our ‘heroes’. <br />In this Celtic Tiger <br />It’s wealth by stealth <br />While boys still drink <br />Cider on street corners. <br />And then a week for Becket <br />For idle snobs to divulge: <br />‘He was the greatest writer ever.’ <br />His grave trembles whitely… <br />The slick tongue of high office <br />Bellows out, <br />‘Drive safely this weekend.’ <br />The busiest weekend of the year <br />As he speeds away <br />In his Mercedes Benz. <br />Bring in a reserve force! <br />Build walls around sheds. <br />Oh, heroes of 1916… <br />The rhetoric, the rhetoric. <br />They were slated <br />While they were here. <br />Now they’re gone, <br />‘how precious they were.’ <br />Deluded rhetoric <br />In the land of ‘welcomes’, <br />Land of craic, land of drink. <br />This place will eat your soul, <br />Topple warriors, <br />Chase them to foreign lands <br />Or hang them gently. <br />Hot knife in the heart! <br />Until mourning comes and <br />In a distant removed time <br />A government’s need <br />Will pray for their revival <br />And lay a beautiful wreath.<br /><br />Seán O Muiríosa<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ireland-2006/
