Raised in North Cork
A man who received widespread adulation
It’s D.D Sheehan, B.L
Of the Irish Land & Labour Association
A poet and wordsmith
Who build the branch network from scratch
To protect those tenants burnt out
From cottages of thatch
Charles Tanner’s death
Left a hole in Mid-Cork
Then up stepped D.D
Which gave political breadth
One great achievement
Was the Act of 1911
Model homes around Blarney
Brought workers closer to heaven
For Home Rule, he tried
To give the poor Irish their governance
Despite a role in the Great War
He found that the Crown had defied
Off to South England he went
To re-assess his fate
A forerunner to Attlee he served
Worthwhile to emigrate?
Categories:
attlee, ireland,
Form: Rhyme
I come to bury Gandhi,
Bury him deep,
Not to praise him.
It is fashionable nowadays—to decry him
As a racist, as a casteist.
Accuse him of discriminatory practices.
No one will challenge me.
Perhaps I may add that
He often fasted
Because he had constipation!
All that he did was to lie,
(Though he claimed to speak the truth)
Across the road,
Across the railway track,
Across any British move.
Attlee, unlike Churchill,
Was a liberal-minded man,
Eager to free India.
British economy was in shambles
In the wake of World War II.
Trade Unions were launching strikes
Across the subcontinent.
Jinnah demanded a separate state.
Indian Navy revolted.
All this is true.
But if the butterfly of a Gandhi
Had not fluttered his wings,
India would not have got her freedom
Without an armed struggle,
Which is also true—
More or less.
—Ram, R. V.
Categories:
attlee, how i feel,
Form: Lyric