N'Iron

strife riven island corner, rough hewn by rival visitation vexed, looking in, looking out, on the edge of places to go thrang in thrall of other realms, banners furling, batons flung across seaways, shores and seamless land continuing beyond the borders and invasions of the mind volcanic bonfire stump, worn-down mountain clump drumlin thump, thump, thump, while hills reverberate caves retreat, cliffs stumble off deep-time plateau glens cut towards the coast, exposing Goliath's fluted organ bombs ignite, bottles shatter, stones clatter, slogans shout spirits drain, coloured pavements fade, granite grinds on inspiration troubles struggle, slow-moving sediment, river sludge meandering down around to glacial lough and semi-fjord drunk darkly under misty linen cloud, hope raised in expectation but dashed, gutter-sniped by big eejits with little thoughts town and village steeped in steeples, buildings ugly grey proud city centre, contradictions, museum to a sinking boat rows of homes hemmed in by battle-line, marching counterpoint kids abused by faith of elders, fear of other tribes, divisions dense men and women on a hill, still seeking higher ground mural mural on the wall, defiant cries from yesteryear balaclava land, flaunted flags, men with arms and caps of knee haunted eyes behind para-masks, they strut and swagger tat for tit and tit for tat, rasp of roll and bacon bap buck alec's cat with muscled dogs sniffing round and smelling rat vermin gathers, hate hurtling from the last ditch of derision new blood enriches, old clots dissolving within the arterial tide of now incoherent villains vanquished by youth unscarred and uncowed heroes arrive with undertone of punk and grumpy song-cycle genius the sport of limb, the gift of gab, global giants of rhyme and verse thorny countryside, wee stone walls, earth, sand and bog shallow secrets still abide, skulking cursed 'neath a skudding sky truth oozing from the wounds of revenge and retribution slow sullied justice in the telling, stories of dire humanity grief soothed by mournful refrain and some fiery craic, of course! as waves crash on, cakes 'will' be baked and walls 'will' crumble then watch our children's children elevate on bright shafts of sunlight their science and their art building cool causeways to the stars maybe then, someone will write in flashing laser along the mountainside " the man from del-monte always says 'yes' to a pint of the dark stuff "