It's The Winners Who Still Write The History
Saddam Hussein locked up in prison he will never more attack
The poor Kurds of the mountains of northern Iraq
He has killed so many people his actions were all bad
And he deserved his nick name of the 'Butcher of Baghdad'.
It's the winners who still write the history if Saddam's army had won
The likes of Bush and Howard and Tony Blair would now be on the run
Or else locked up in prison awaiting the firing squad
To be murdered by their fellow kind and to be judged by God.
For they are as responsible for as many deaths as Saddam if the truth is to be told
And they live as free and famed and wealthy men and they may live on to be old
Thousands of people in Afghanistan and Iraq because of them have died
But they are on the winning side so they don't need to hide.
For his crimes against humanity Saddam is due to pay
And we reap the karma that we sow wise people have been known to say
And Bush and Howard and Tony Blair will too have their karma day
So many have died and suffered due to them though they don't see it that way.
It's The Winners Who Write History
It's the winners who write history at least that's what they say
That's how it was and that's how it is for it's always been that way
And the losers are forgotten and trampled in the dust
Even though they were outnumbered and even though their cause was just.
Man's inhumanity to man stil relevant today
And many of those who fight for truth and justice with their lives often pay
And despite centuries of lessons we haven't learnt yet
The war memorial says it all in the words 'lest we forget'
Lest we forget the men who died when the battle had been won
Not much use to the war mother who for years grieved for her son
And not much use to the soldier who lay in his dark grave
When he won't hear those standing near saying at least the man died brave.
Those who stand to gain the most from war from the battle far away
They only come to read the eulogy where the dead hero lay
But he won't hear their words of praise when they honour his name
And fame is little use to you if you must die for fame.
It's the winners who write history and the spoils of victory enjoy
But they did not fight in the battle where the brave young men did die
And the war memorial says it all in the words 'lest we forget'
And despite centuries of lessons we haven't learnt yet.
It's Their Government I Don't Like
I've got nothing against the American people it's their Government I don't like
For when their spokes people talk of collateral damage and the pre emptive strike
With their words they diminish humanity as if they did not know or even care
That there is another World another World out there.
They are the World's latest super power but they will not be the last
And like the British before them they have not learned from the past,
We have yet to learn from history that our values on others we cannot impose
Our mistakes we keep repeating but that's life I do suppose.
The web poets write anti terror poems but only from one side
And boast about their Country's freedom and in their Country's flag take pride
But terrorism breeds terrorists and war is terror too
And they do not write for human rights so tell us something new.
I am not one without sin so I will cast the stone
And I for one am not afraid for to make my feelings known
I do not fear any super power they do not worry me
I only care for all of those who care about humanity.
I am not afraid to speak out as truth should not know fear
And if web poets spoke with one voice the World around would hear
And condemned all forms of terror they would not be us and they
And the other side would take heed of what they had to say.
In a World of thirty million refugees it's the poor and innocents who pay
For the crimes against humanity and the war of us and they
And about war and terror no difference between the two
Since all forms of violence is terrorism so happens to be true.
I've A Story To Tell
I cannot lay claim to being a poet since i pen doggerel
But like every other human being I've a story to tell
A story of an ordinary life but a story just the same
And 'tis said that the most ordinary enjoy five seconds of fame.
As a young man in Duhallow i lived near Millstreet Town
In the old fields by my old home i daydreamed of literary renown
The birds of the woodland and the hedgerows i knew them by their song
But by their voices birds familiar and one should not get them wrong.
An amateur literary career i did choose to pursue
And to the literary way of life i remain ever true
An ageing addictive rhymer many years beyond my prime
And nothing extraordinary in that since anyone can rhyme.
My Goddess is in Nature in Nature i believe
The creator of all life forms and what she creates she receive
Amongst her earthy bosom all of her life forms must decay
And you and i no different for we must die one day.
To the mighty Goddess of Nature i only can relate
And at every opportunity her i will celebrate
I see her splendid beauty in every bush and tree
Your invisible Gods you can have but Nature will do me.