Rahara 54©2021TonyFallon1210.

 Rahara 54©2021TonyFallon1210.

In Rahara in the 60's the girls all wanted nylons
While we young fellows wanted the juniors to beat up St Johns
Those were years before iphones or any kind of computer
We all envied Willie Corcoran and his little scooter
Then we had a fine home-grown team just after the big war time
Just as the Beirnes Donnellys and Beatties were coming to prime.
Big Malachy Donnelly and Micky Murry were like blocks
And most rival forwards never got inside our goalie's box
We didn't win a county championships or other glory
For Creggs or Oran games we went in Eamon Beattie's lorry
There were no pipers or drummers ready to play marching tunes
The games and practices were held on most Sunday afternoons
On hairy legs and white arms there would be wounds scrapes and scratches
And big clumps of grass missing from Ger Egans field in patches
One cold October day a game was played in bad conditions
A replay of a drawn game one of the GAA's bad decisions
They lads all looked so confident as they marched out there in green
With so many Beirnes Beattie's and Donnelly's in the fifteen
As well as those just mentioned we had favorites of the crowd
Like Jim and Des Brennan brothers Willie Fallon and Ned Dowd
Stephen Miley and Tommy Tully made their contributions
The Champion did not mention the use of substitutions
That day we were all shivering but they had skimpy attire
Made worse by slimy under footing of water, muck and mire
In the hour Athleague scored only one point from a close in free
Rahara were the victors even though they scored only three
The referee was Barry Malloy in charge of the whistle
All thirty players behaved themselves there was no dismissal
If a line ball did go against us it did no good to plea
Either linesman was rarely overruled by the referee
It was the semifinal in the papers it was noted
In late October fifty-four a column was devoted
In a week against Eoghan Ruaghs the didn't do so well
On the final score of that Sunday alas I shall not dwell
To the all-star team none of Rahara players were voted
And since they lost the final game the team was not promoted
Some of us still alive can look back on our Rahara years
With a certain sadness in our hearts from some foreign frontiers

KevinBarry(C)2021TonyFallon1109

 KevinBarry(C)2021TonyFallon1109

The ghost of Kevin Barry still in memory lingers on

The brave lad who faced the hangman in that November dawn

 A true Irish martyr facing death in his teenage years 

While his supporters knelt in a last ditch despair and tears

Broken hearted sympathisers on the road outside Mountjoy

Not there to mourn a grown man just an eighteen year old boy

Was he driven on by madness or the desire to be free?

A brave step by an irish son in his search for liberty

A full time college student one day he missed some courses

Because he was a member of the secret armed forces

Pinned down beneath an idle lorry enemy blood was shed

And one  more British soldier on a Dublin street lay dead

A twice jammed up old rifle laid ruin to his other plans

And he did not live long enough to fight the black and tans

Thinking of Eire's freedom full of young rebel ideas

Throw off the yoke of tyranny a perfect panaceas

They would hang him on the gallows  a cruel illustration

Not realizing this would unite the entire nation

No more he'll walk in Dublin or go to Church in Westland Row

No more he'll walk family fields in Dumguin in Carlow

His brave deeds were emulated by nine more fearless young men

Buried in the jail side by side known as The Forgotten Ten

The bodies of those brave young men as well as that of Kevin

Were taken from that evil ground and now lie in Glasnevin

MySundaySnack(C)2021 TonyFallon0919

 MySundaySnack(C)2021

TonyFallon0919

I'm trying to make healthy fish and chips

Not to fry them in butter but oil

I've gone to the store already on two trips

Now I have no aluminum foil

The pan I think is too small  in size

It barely holds all of the whiting

It's too full when I add the fries

When the grease spills over it's lighting

Two hours ago I started the soup

It takes time it's New England chowder

When it bubbled I added a scoop

Of fat free milk made from powder

There is no chowder on earth like mine

I can't wait for it to thicken

Those who eat it say it's divine

That's because I add pork and chicken

The Autumn Leaves©2021TonyFallon0805

 

The Autumn Leaves©2021TonyFallon0805

No more are the leaves alive on the autumn trees

As the daily heat goes down slowly by degrees

In autumns past it happened it is now routine

The nice green summer foliage has lost its sheen

The birds who sang so sweetly as if in contest

Have since flown away and no longer use their nest

It is now seen in the branches almost unworn

Reminding us in the spring they may well return

The canopy that shielded while the female hatched

Will soon be jettisoned finally unattached

To be tossed through big fields or the valley beyond

Or join other leaves in the bottom of a pond.

DugraBog(c)2021TonyFallon0727.

 DugraBog(c)2021TonyFallon0727.

As an Irish teenager I spent many a June even'

In Dugra bog outside the little village of Kilteevan

Then the bicycle was the transportation to get about

To travel to the bog or town and mass if you were devout

It was pure hard work daily there were no plans to be discussed

If it didn't rain for days cars were followed by a cloud of dust

We came from Rahara parish and did not have our own bank

We rented yearly and had Corbooley people on each flank

Events that happened in Knockcroghery became instant news

An argument about football teams fueled by too much booze

The wheel barrow was ancient it must be made for a dragon

It would be easier to pull the turf on a child's wagon

We turned then we footed and we finally made a big stack

We often ate egg sandwiches and drank milk in Brennan's shack

The weather so unpredictable it might be a mild gale

And it being so chilly you would not be surprised with hail

After a few days of sunshine you'd have blisters on your nose

And when humidity was a bit high they'd say it was close

We would build a fire for cooking and to keep away midges

And said many bad things about them which were not religious

Sometimes when a fire was started we would have warm hard boiled eggs

And empty the tea mug until there was nothing left but dregs

The mid day meal around two was almost a social event

Grown men with hot tea in their bellies went back to work content

You could never use bog water for the taste was distorted

So every morning bottled water had to be imported

Not all empty Cidona bottles were retuned to the store

For the days in the bog my mother kept at least three or four

You would constantly watch the fire and keep it under control

And when you were going home throw the hot embers in the hole

I often left Jim Menton's donkey in Mooney's shed with hay

When I'd return in the morning he would always loudly bray

Us children got excited to see a rabbit or a hare

And I loved to listen to the skylark singing in the air

We would wander though the wild heather and get an awful fright

When a pheasant hen would suddenly rise and take off in flight

To get turf dry and saved and home there was always great pressure

The sods had to be ricked before the coming of the thresher

To fill and empty Eamon Beattie's red lorry was labor

But in our village a kindly neighbor helped us his neighbor

We didn't stop in Knockcroghery but we did in Finneran's
And satisfied our sweet teeth with some biscuits and minerals

If you worked autumn in a bog you would not be overweight

And when you got home tired you did not leave much food on your plate

Twenty years ago in the new bog it was cut by machine

God be with the good old days when the strong men used the old slean

When we were working in the Irish bogs then who could foresee?

That we'd be stopped from cutting turf by European decree

I would love to go back again and drive down the old bog road

But I have no plans to leave my new Catskill Mountain zip code

I do not think I will be going back anytime this year

So I will just write and dream and in my pillow shed a tear

Irish Arts Week© Tony Fallon071318.

 Irish Arts Week© Tony Fallon071318.

Up and down 145 in East Durham of high renown

The best Irish talent in the world was gathered in this town

It was of course the six days of the Annual Irish Arts Week

A gathering in America which is truly unique

On the pipes or banjo you can learn a brand new technique

Or a few focals of Gaelic language you can learn to speak

Some people came up for four days of quiet vacation

Any many are here for some musical education

The parents have instilled some inquiring motivation

And teachers pass on our traditions to the next generation

I was in McGraths last night, the pipes many people were playing

There was a big crowd there all night no one was straying

Mattie Connolly was in his glory his fingers were hopping

Jigs Reels one after the other of him there was no stopping

He was not the only one there whose fingers seemed to glide

Deirdre Corrigan's were so fast I thought they would collide

For months we will talk about legends like Bergin,Madden and Fee

And instructors like Margie and Donny and Annemarie

There will be people who danced so much they will have blisters

We'll talk about the Coen brothers and the Casey sisters

If we had a piper named John or Michael Regan

I could have teamed him up with the singer Patrick Egan

There is such great talent here yet so many were omitted

They didn't rhyme with anyone when they were submitted

The names of most the teachers this year were not very phonetic

So I had a hard time with rhyming names and being poetic

But where else is a better place to make new or meet an old friend

Than the Irish arts week in East Durham I wish it would never end

I don't think i ever posted this before

ALONE(c)2021TonyFallon0615.

 ALONE(c)2021TonyFallon0615

I'm not a young lad anymore but free of infections

I didn't catch the Covid and I have both my injections

I'm up by nine each morning I'm as fit as a fiddle

I do not have fat behind and little in the middle

In the last forty years I have not gained or lost a pound

My heart beat is sixty two my doctor says that is sound

No high Cholesterol to worry and low blood pressure

And the food I eat could not be healthier or fresher

The only thing he's snippy about and we disagree

Is me staying up watching movies until two or three

He is a great believer in at least eight hours slumber

And he wants me to do that nightly winter and summer

My hair is shoulder length I have been growing it for years

I'm the envy of girls but Geraldine wants to use shears

I have a beard like Santa Clause for years I have not shaved

I haven't been to the barber so much money I have saved

I don't drink any alcohol and I'm not a smoker

I do not go to OTB but I like a game of poker

I'm a happy go lucky man I seldom am uptight

But there is no one here to say good morning or good night

OhtoSingAnIrish Song

 OhtoSingAnIrish Song(C)2021TonyFallon0630 

Are The Irish Music high Holy days gone maybe forever?

Perhaps brave men will come once again and start a new endeavor

Do you remember sixty years ago in a more folksy age

When wild looking young men some with beards  would take the local stage

And belt out new Irish songs from local villages and towns

And fill dance halls from Kerry to Armagh with swinging Irish sounds

Big Tom would sing of Castleblaney Brendan Shine of Castlerea

Dermot O'Brien would sing of Louth and the Turfmsn from Ardee

Larry and Declan were singing of their Longford and Drumlish

Others told of the awful suffering and dying in Long Kesh

Almost every week there would be a new song about H Block

Meanwhile Dana was singing the praises of the Lady of Knock

Danny Doyle was singing about gathering up pots and pans

The Wolfe Tones had new songs about the IRA and the Black and Tans

Somewhere else someone would sing of the Kerry hills of Knocknashee

Dermot Henry in New York was singing The Village of Asdee

Remember Lovely Derry the Lee and the Lovely Rose of Clare

And the Johnson group sang lovingly of the Plains of Kildare

Who can forget Lovely Leitrim or the green hills of Sligo

Or the cottage on the borderline of Galway and Mayo

Lough Ree oh Lough Ree where Roscomm Westmeath and Longford counties met

The pretty little girl from Omagh may have been a brunette

A woman was afraid of a kiss in the town of Ballymoe

While up in Cavan they were singing the praises of John Joe

Sharon Shannon moved a bit north and became the Galway Girl

The song became so world famous once she gave it to Steve Earl

One gypsy was a rover another's crush was a girl of eight

And Willie Brady walked the boreen with a Muldoon girl named Kate

The Dubliners going to Galway Races had four hours to drive

It must have been a Rocky road to Dublin one two three four five

Sean McCarthy wrote a rousing song about a red haired Mary

Johnnie McCauley was home in any town in Tipperary

Phil Coulter wrote so sadly of Derry the town he loved so well

And how the hated British army turned his hometown into hell

Paddy Farrell told us he wanted to go back to Castlebar

Someone else sang of Patsy Mulligan the man from Mullingar

Pete St John wrote of the Atherny wife who could only mourn

As her husband was shipped to Australia for stealing some corn

There were songs about love,romance,Clay pipes,carrots donkeys and goats

The old guys who drank too much and the dreaded emigrant boats

It seems no one will record now unless it's Grace or Raglan Road

Or country songs about Texas where the Rio Grande flowed

Will all our little towns and villages become once more obscure?

Will no one again sing Irish songs like Margo or Christy Moore?

Are we no more to hear the likes of McEvoy or Brendan Grace?

Or Furey/Arthur nor Hegarty that would be such a disgrace

Are there no more Paddy Reilly's Luke Kelly's or Ronnie Drews?

Is there anyone out there to fill Foster and Allen's shoes?

No more drilling in the mountains no more Kelly from Killane
No more Kevin Barry or Sean South or Martha from Strabane

No more Tommy Makem from Armagh no Clancy's or Pecker Dunne
No more Billy Reid dying on the street with an old Thompson gun

No Lisdoon or Limerick Lady or Irish in New York

No more will we hear great stories of the boys from county cork

Is the Golden era past is there no more youthful passion?

Are we not proud of new Irish songs and gone Country to cash in?

TheCromleckatScregg

 

TheCromleckatScregg©202TonyFallon 0605

Those prehistoric dolmens or cromlecks in Clare are common
to my knowledge this is only one in Scregg Roscommon
I often climbed the hill and rock in my younger years
Singing Danny Boy I could hear imaginary cheers
In my imagination it was like singing in a Hall
Meanwhile my mother was shouting you could slip and fall
I climbed down immediately with so much youthful ease
But I would not do it now with my arthritic knees

I came at least once almost every day to play my war game
To keep from greedy eyes my lovely Irish Dame
the fairies owned it but in daytime it was mine
can a lad have more excitement when he's only nine
I hid inside the rocks sheltered and unexposed
times there were exciting from boredom I never dozed
I knew there might be gold buried there a handsome cache
But at night on my bicycle I'd go by in a flash

Alone on a hill it stands in a lonely farm location
Far from towns and rivers there's been no excavation
I had rivalry for shelter from bullocks cows and sheep
But I felt no bit of guilt rousing them from sleep
eastward were rocks where my imaginary foes were concealed
Fifty to one were the odds yet I knew I'd never yield
Outside I was in danger yet very safe within
I could defy them forever I was the modern Finn

Who were the constructors did they get a royal permit?
Was it build for a king or was it built for a hermit?
Was it built to scare an invading godless infidel?
Or to be the guardian of riches as a citadel?
Was it a place for a semi annual pagan bonfire?
Or where our ancestors dispatched on a funeral pyre?
was it built for cruel solitary incarceration?
was I treading on the ashes of an old cremation?

Eggs©2021TonyFallon0404

 

Eggs©2021TonyFallon0404

They'd be eating fancy eggs in all the hotels
My brother and I would eat them from shells
Neither boiled or fried a hundred percent raw
And we were not discouraged by our ma
Oh there was a three way friendly competition
As we all went on our egg collecting mission
Some of the neighbors thought we were two freaks
My mother said they would give us rosy cheeks
If she complained the eggs were already eaten
She just gave up she knew when she was BEATEN

TheHermit©2021TonyFallon0330

 

TheHermit©2021TonyFallon0330

The virus came so quickly before we could prepare
When someone infected sneezed it just flew through the air
To be safe according to experts just wear a mask
Since the stores had practically none that was a task
They also recommended you often wash your hands
And suggested you not visit any foreign lands
They had no medicine to give as an infusion
You were advised to stay home in total seclusion

They closed down the stadium they closed down the chapel
And suggested useless cures like the doctor's apple
We had to stay from the others by at least six feet
In stores you could follow people but you could not meet
Some wouldn't wear masks because they considered it a hoax
But I think it was real I'm missing older folks
Some think the virus is some kind of mass collusion
I'm not too happy but I'm staying in seclusion

Some religious leader gave bad advise to their flocks
Told them it was better to die than go to detox
Despite the laws of separation of church and state
Keep the donated money coming was their mandate
They finally retreated to their earthly palaces
With their airplanes limos and healthy bank balances
I was not moved by their messages of delusion
I stocked up my fridge and was ready for seclusion

Those who should have known better were acting immature
All the expert commentators thought they had a cure
Both politicians parties agreed to disagree
Some felt self important because they owned a degree

We were to drink much water to keep our throats moistened
If we had drank Clorox we all would have been poisoned
Do not drink this do drink that led to mass confusion
I'll eat like last year and be happy in seclusion

When St Patrick came to Ireland he drove out the snakes

 When St Patrick came to Ireland he drove out the snakes

Some crossed the Atlantic all the way to the United States

There was not much food for them on the East Coast

They started crawling westward because there was no boat

But coyotes and racoons gave them very little peace

So they realised there was no great welcome in the East

the heat out in the west caused them to lose their skin

Most wander round at night they have no pit to hiss in

OffToAmerica©2021TonyFallon0113

 OffToAmerica©2021TonyFallon0113

I had saved and borrowed money and in a week would sail

I said goodbye to my parents now both old and frail

The farm we were living on was way too small to split

I was the eldest I didn't want to cause family conflict

They had raised and nurtured me like all of the others

Now I was leaving them and my sister and my brothers

Belying my doubts and fears I put on some bravado

Knowing I might never come back from Colorado

My uncle never returned he was a cattle baron

A man who had made it big many miles from Aran

The uncle being a kind man sent many an envelope

The American dollars inside helped my parents cope

It was he who lent me the passage and money for trains

To get me from New York to his ranch way out on the plains

I had said farewell to all my friends in the parish

Mates I might see no more but memories to cherish

My father brought me in the curragh as far as Oranmore

By the Limerick Cork border my feet were feeling sore

A kindly farmer let me sleep ten hours in his shed

With breakfast in the morning and four slices of bread

With my sore feet daily I was not making great progress

And each day on the road I found myself walking less and less

The weather was rainy and I was walking in wet shoes

On my right foot I had corns on the left an ugly bruise

But I kept pressing on by day and at night I strove

And anyone I'd meet I'd ask how far more to Cobh

The ticket said at one on Thursday the boat would depart

But when I finally got to the quay my world fell apart

The liner stayed in the bay and did not come in to dock

And the last tender with passengers left at twelve o'clock

I saw the last passenger board and wave us all goodbye

Someone said the next boat to New York was not until July

My boat had left on its first trip across the wild Atlantic

And I have missed the maiden voyage of the great Titanic

IGotTheInjection(C)2021TonyFallon0312.

 IGotTheInjection(C)2021TonyFallon0312.

I once had a sweetheart to whom I was so devoted

I believed in the pandemic but I was outvoted

So I signed up secretly and got the first injection

So then I had  no fear of getting any infection

During that first shot I was like inspecting the ceiling

At the first sight of my blood I faint or just start squealing

I had to drive forty miles again to get the second

Which was twenty more miles of driving than I had reckoned

Thankfully neither injection caused a swelling or pain

While others got varied side effects I could not complain

She temped fate by in public not ever wearing a mask

She would not even wear it in the car though I would ask

There are people who are suspicious of authority

And getting this shot is not part of their priority

She didn't believe in doctors for sickness like angina

And she clearly had no respect for doctors from China

She though the covid scare was in reality fake news

She was not a follower she would believe what she choose

Thoughts of most other people to her were just badly flawed

Everyone in the world was engaged in deceit or  fraud

My hands I wash often they are always in a lather

If you will not comply I don't want to hear you blather

 I follow my doctors orders I'm just a civilian

It's not thousands who have died I think it is a million

One day she started coughing thank God my face was covered

She went into the hospital but never recovered

Outside the gates she asked God why she got the infection

He said "you should have worn a mask and got the injection

Scientists are scientists so they don't blame the Chinese

And some pray both day and night for a cure for this disease"

Some doubtful people may be committing a big blunder

Like my stubborn ex-sweetheart who now lies six feet under.

I will keep on wearing my mask and keep washing my hands

Until Doc Fauci and his experts finally disbands

YearsGoneBy©2021TonyFallon0303

 

YearsGoneBy©2021TonyFallon0303

On Sundays I rode my bicycle to Knockcroghery mass

From my home in Barnacullen by the lake in Ballyglass
By Brehony's Connaughtions and Coynes I rapidly wheeled
Then madly on to Shrah through the Racecourse and Sandfield

At Mattie Fallon's block factory corner there was a sign
Past Healy's shop and Rogers Pharmacy was a slight incline
On by Curley's and O'Briens shops and Donaghue's forge
Partnered by the Coyle brothers from Culleen Joe and George

I passed by Jamesie's Pub never thinking of a flat
And gave a big salute to the popular Widow’s Pat
In Gordon's you could use the phone or post a letter
And stop often too in Flannigan's when weather was wetter

The end of the trip was in sight as I passed the village Green
Where I played some handball and football when I was a teen
I never had to attend the school where Mister Hoare ruled
Where all the Knockcroghery and local children were schooled

You would think from the priests sermons we all should be detained
For he often sounded like our souls with mortal sins were stained
Heaven was besieged each Sunday for favors by the devout
And many a wayward young lad in the ear got a clout

According to the priest there was no sitting on fences
And if you should die in sin there were fierce consequences
Some old folks nodded off like they were under hypnosis
On the pulpit we were reminded of the laws of Moses

Of course we heard the De Profundis which to us was unique
It was read to us in Latin which might as well be Greek

The mass itself wound up with a lot of bell ringing
And if there was benediction we all wound up singing
This tradition was repeated in Rahara and St John's
While the men dreamed of Guinness in the local salons

As I sit here remembering I know I'm reminiscing
When if you didn't show for mass you were classified as missing
A simpler time for us before they put men on the moon
And I don't think those simpler times will return to us soon