so this one is vaguely related to the last one, in that I wanted to write a song containing the line 'Somali Pirates in the night'. the finished song is a metaphorical musing on how sometimes we can be our own worst enemies, and the pirates symbolise that in this song. you can hear a version of the actual song on my Soundcloud page: http://soundcloud.com/diarmaid-hurley/somali-pirates-08-09-2011-15
My smile is turning upside down
Like a clown left out in the rain.
I wandered through the empty town
And never saw your sun again.
I wanted to think about you and me
And the times when we were just all right
But instead the only thing I see
Are Somali pirates in the night.
Sailing in their motorboats
Their grins and guns give me a fright
I hope I never ever see
Somali pirates in the night
You left me with a head of dreams
Melting like some toast on cheese
My river now is just a stream
My trees, some paper leaves.
My thoughts turn to my memories
Like the time you set my fire to light
But the fire will only ever remind me
Of Somali pirates in the night
Friday, September 16, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Atlantic Drifter
Storm clouds gather in the north
The North Atlantic Drift's in force
But the sun still shines down from the west
as i enter the sea to take a rest
The tide is close, but not too high
The shallows stretch for half a mile
This stretch of busy beach is mine
and the passers-by just nod and smile.
For there's naught so good as clean sea air
To blow away impending doom
So here I will abide a while
before returning to my dank bedroom
The cliffs and rocks have a sallow hue
partaking of the late sun's rays
It gives me pleasure, content, and peace
To write down that 'pon which I gaze.
The North Atlantic Drift's in force
But the sun still shines down from the west
as i enter the sea to take a rest
The tide is close, but not too high
The shallows stretch for half a mile
This stretch of busy beach is mine
and the passers-by just nod and smile.
For there's naught so good as clean sea air
To blow away impending doom
So here I will abide a while
before returning to my dank bedroom
The cliffs and rocks have a sallow hue
partaking of the late sun's rays
It gives me pleasure, content, and peace
To write down that 'pon which I gaze.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
The Colours of Weather (or, An Amazingly Ordinary Extraordinary Journey)
Today was a lovely day, but like waves lapping on the coastline, the tiredness washed over me from time to time, due mainly to the fact I stayed up until 5am yesterday writing the previous post. Anyway, the day which greeted me upon arising from my sleep in Galway was a little drab, to say the least, slightly drizzly, and very windy. As I drove north and veered into the wilds of Mayo, the landscape changed with the weather, or vice versa, I'm not sure. The grey skies continued while I journeyed through the flat boglands around Kilkelly, but upon reaching the main road, at Swinford, the bogs turned to green fields and the sun broke through the clouds. I was able to enjoy the scenery due to the constant slow driving of almost everyone who was in front of me. The road rage was never far away, but it was tempered by the beautiful ripples of the dark-flowing river Moy, which I crossed and recrossed on my journey. This is a view I took when I stopped at Crockettstown, outside of Ballina. 
And this one was taken from the same vantage point, facing north over Killala Bay to the Atlantic, where I saw clear blue skies. It was a good omen.
So as I arrived in the village of Enniscrone (or 'Inniscrone', depending on which road sign you read) I was treated to the sight of an elderly gent in a hi-vis vest directing traffic flow. I knew that there was a community 'festival' on (i.e. 'entertainment' on the side of a truck with a bad sound system and a bunch of market vendors selling trinkets nobody really needs. It's a phenomenon in many Irish country towns, and I have participated in a few myself over the years. Some quite recently. But I digress.) I was not surprised to learn that this fellow was keeping traffic away from a riverside boreen which was packed with people to watch rubber duck racing. I had an hour to kill before setting up for the gig (which was not connected to the 'festival' in the village itself) so I set myself up in the sand dunes, facing out to sea, with the sun on my neck, and fell asleep.
(One final photo, Enniscrone beach, 2pm ish)
So back to the theme, after we played the gig, we loaded the gear into the vans parked out back of the venue, which was on the sea side of the building. The sun was low at this point, and sparkled gold on the waves, bathing the town in front of me in that pretty yellow-orange shade that's so hard to describe and happens so rarely that it's almost impossible to capture on camera. (I tried, but see previous post as to why it was futile.) As the road climbed out of the village, the sunset was in my rearview mirror, but ahead of me, above the golden light was a massive thunderhead, stark grey, and directly over my path. As I drove into the rain, I saw a clear double rainbow very close to my right. The fields were that bright colour of green that you get when the rain has freshly fallen, so bright that you could almost see the life in them. As it happened, the road veered around to the right, and I felt myself passing under the storm clouds, the light changing from yellow to dark grey, and then almost blue in a matter of seconds. And then, in the middle of it all, around a bend in the road, I saw the base of the rainbow, almost like it were directly blocking my path, challenging me to chase it. I drove through it, and felt like I had achieved something intangible, but I couldn't say what that was. A minute later, the road veered east again, passing between the sea and the Ox Mountains, and in my mirror I could see behind me, from the other side of the storm clouds I had just passed, the last rays of the sunset streaking up, making the clouds bleed purple, scarlet and many shades of pink. From there, the light began to seep away, dusk taking over the weather palette. The sea on my left was a black-grey motion, with headlands and dunes in a lighter shade of blue-grey. On my right, the mountains were green, with fog and drizzle misting over the peaks. As I got closer to Ballisodare, the road became almost enclosed by overhanging trees, the type which will always remind me of horror stories heard as a child. In the final stage of my trip, it was actually dark, and the headlights lit up a rolling green landscape, crisscrossed with narrow country lanes until finally I reached my folk's place.
I can't really explain why I felt the need to describe the day, but it occurs to me that the colours of nature and weather, and especially the influence that each has on the other, are all to often taken for granted. I do it myself. But sometimes nature and weather combine, to almost roar 'TAKE NOTICE OF ME', and you can't understand why you ignore this so much of the time.
I don't know how to end this.
Peace and Love
Derm
And this one was taken from the same vantage point, facing north over Killala Bay to the Atlantic, where I saw clear blue skies. It was a good omen.
(One final photo, Enniscrone beach, 2pm ish)
So back to the theme, after we played the gig, we loaded the gear into the vans parked out back of the venue, which was on the sea side of the building. The sun was low at this point, and sparkled gold on the waves, bathing the town in front of me in that pretty yellow-orange shade that's so hard to describe and happens so rarely that it's almost impossible to capture on camera. (I tried, but see previous post as to why it was futile.) As the road climbed out of the village, the sunset was in my rearview mirror, but ahead of me, above the golden light was a massive thunderhead, stark grey, and directly over my path. As I drove into the rain, I saw a clear double rainbow very close to my right. The fields were that bright colour of green that you get when the rain has freshly fallen, so bright that you could almost see the life in them. As it happened, the road veered around to the right, and I felt myself passing under the storm clouds, the light changing from yellow to dark grey, and then almost blue in a matter of seconds. And then, in the middle of it all, around a bend in the road, I saw the base of the rainbow, almost like it were directly blocking my path, challenging me to chase it. I drove through it, and felt like I had achieved something intangible, but I couldn't say what that was. A minute later, the road veered east again, passing between the sea and the Ox Mountains, and in my mirror I could see behind me, from the other side of the storm clouds I had just passed, the last rays of the sunset streaking up, making the clouds bleed purple, scarlet and many shades of pink. From there, the light began to seep away, dusk taking over the weather palette. The sea on my left was a black-grey motion, with headlands and dunes in a lighter shade of blue-grey. On my right, the mountains were green, with fog and drizzle misting over the peaks. As I got closer to Ballisodare, the road became almost enclosed by overhanging trees, the type which will always remind me of horror stories heard as a child. In the final stage of my trip, it was actually dark, and the headlights lit up a rolling green landscape, crisscrossed with narrow country lanes until finally I reached my folk's place.
I can't really explain why I felt the need to describe the day, but it occurs to me that the colours of nature and weather, and especially the influence that each has on the other, are all to often taken for granted. I do it myself. But sometimes nature and weather combine, to almost roar 'TAKE NOTICE OF ME', and you can't understand why you ignore this so much of the time.
I don't know how to end this.
Peace and Love
Derm
Photography (and the lack thereof)
Hello all.
this is a test run, to see if I can post photos and/or links. I've not figured it out yet, but when I do, expect a lot more than just words.
My digital camera unfortunately suffered major brain damage after a drunken fall at a house party in New London back in April. It wasn't my fault, honestly, but luckily I managed to do some stopgap surgery to mitigate the damage done. The result is that my once-proud Canon has now been reduced to the most basic functionality. In fact, not even, as basic functions include a flash, which has ceased to work. Colour and view options are no more, and film mode is unthinkable. At least the screen works.
The reason I mention this is to explain why I have very few photos from the last few months, especially from gigs or road trips. Those that I do have (some of which are up on http://twitpic.com/photos/dermhurl if you're interested) are mostly from my phone camera (a SonyEricsson if you want to know) which is blurry at best, useless in anything but very bright daylight, and on the verge of packing in also. I plan to upgrade it within the next 6 months. As for the Canon, I have no idea whether it's salvageable at all. Will have to look into that.
I brought a disposable camera to the Prince concert. Once I get that developed, I'll post any worthy photos, with a short gig review. It was actually almost too good to be able to describe. It was enhanced by being there with a few friends whom you could easily call 'die-hard' Prince fanatics. Anyhow, that's a story for another day.
so, just to conclude here, I played a gig about two weeks ago in Shrule, a small village on the Galway-Mayo border. In the field directly beside the local hall where we played was the castle in the photo above. I'm almost certain that it should probably be called a 'tower house' but since I'm unsure, a castle it shall remain. I find the area east of Lough Corrib to be particularly intriguing historically, as there is a huge string of these castles dotted all the way from Galway city to Castlebar. I have friends who claim that to see one is to see them all, but I disagree. Each one has a story to tell, and has impacted the historical landscape it's in. This one happens to dominate a riverbank at a crossing point. Strategically placed, but now in ruins and mostly ignored, lying in the middle of a field of cattle, the interior strewn with empty Buckfast bottles, Dutch Gold cans and who knows what else. It really is a pity that we have to fight so hard to preserve historic monuments, and it seems to me that one of the biggest fights we have is against general public apathy.
Until later,
Peace, Love and Photos.
Derm
this is a test run, to see if I can post photos and/or links. I've not figured it out yet, but when I do, expect a lot more than just words.
My digital camera unfortunately suffered major brain damage after a drunken fall at a house party in New London back in April. It wasn't my fault, honestly, but luckily I managed to do some stopgap surgery to mitigate the damage done. The result is that my once-proud Canon has now been reduced to the most basic functionality. In fact, not even, as basic functions include a flash, which has ceased to work. Colour and view options are no more, and film mode is unthinkable. At least the screen works.
The reason I mention this is to explain why I have very few photos from the last few months, especially from gigs or road trips. Those that I do have (some of which are up on http://twitpic.com/photos/dermhurl if you're interested) are mostly from my phone camera (a SonyEricsson if you want to know) which is blurry at best, useless in anything but very bright daylight, and on the verge of packing in also. I plan to upgrade it within the next 6 months. As for the Canon, I have no idea whether it's salvageable at all. Will have to look into that.
I brought a disposable camera to the Prince concert. Once I get that developed, I'll post any worthy photos, with a short gig review. It was actually almost too good to be able to describe. It was enhanced by being there with a few friends whom you could easily call 'die-hard' Prince fanatics. Anyhow, that's a story for another day.
so, just to conclude here, I played a gig about two weeks ago in Shrule, a small village on the Galway-Mayo border. In the field directly beside the local hall where we played was the castle in the photo above. I'm almost certain that it should probably be called a 'tower house' but since I'm unsure, a castle it shall remain. I find the area east of Lough Corrib to be particularly intriguing historically, as there is a huge string of these castles dotted all the way from Galway city to Castlebar. I have friends who claim that to see one is to see them all, but I disagree. Each one has a story to tell, and has impacted the historical landscape it's in. This one happens to dominate a riverbank at a crossing point. Strategically placed, but now in ruins and mostly ignored, lying in the middle of a field of cattle, the interior strewn with empty Buckfast bottles, Dutch Gold cans and who knows what else. It really is a pity that we have to fight so hard to preserve historic monuments, and it seems to me that one of the biggest fights we have is against general public apathy.
Until later,
Peace, Love and Photos.
Derm
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Summer Time - Living IS Easy
I've been meaning to update this for quite a while. I've had ideas for a post come and go, but the impetus to write has been sadly lacking. Summer time brings welcome diversions from the normal way of things. Even despite our fine traditional Irish weather, there have been numerous chances to play, party, perform, and potter about on the streets, with good friends, new friends, and of course the odd homeless drunk. As everybody knows, Galway city has the friendliest drunks of nearly any city. Certainly any city I've ever been to, and it's quite heartwarming to see the way they have their own little community, and the friendly (if sometimes aggressive) way they interact with the general public.
Galway Arts Festival really brought the city to life. I personally didn't even realise it had started when I made the observation to a friend that there was "more of a party vibe" than usual. Having opted to volunteer once I knew what was going on, I managed to catch a performance of Enda Walsh's 'Misterman', featuring Cillian Murphy. The acting was superb, and the set and lighting was magnificent. The play itself, however, almost disturbed me. It was definitely powerful, but was exceedingly dark, telling the story of one man descending the ladder from 'harmless' to madness. It was a sold-out show twice a day for two weeks. I seriously don't know how the cast and crew managed it. Anyway, that was that.
The other major event of the festival I managed to attend was 'AfroCubism', the mind-blowing, genre-melding all-star line up of Malian and Cuban musicians that formed in 2010 to record and tour together. I had planned to write about that show the next day, but I was still too dazed from what I experienced to write anything remotely objective. The two 'stars' of the show were kora player Toumani Diabaté and Eliades Ochoa of 'Buena Vista Social Club' fame. Having said that, those two were merely the best-known of a stellar line up, each musician an outstanding performer of their instrument. The 13-piece group also featured electric guitar, double bass, congas, balafon, brass, ngoni, tama (Malian talking drum) and various other percussion, in addition to vocals from many band members. Eliades himself had a sore throat or a cold, which he explained to the crowd, after his first introduction, when he explained to us that his English was poor, and spoke in Spanish for the remainder of the show. Nobody cared. The music spoke more clearly than any language. I attempted to understand, but with my limited grasp of Spanish, I only caught a phrase aquí y ahí. Toumani also spoke to the crowd, explaining the rich cultural links between Cuba and Mali. In a rather surreal, and embarrassing moment (for me at least) he explained that the countries are similar because while they are both musically rich, they are physically very poor. The crowd, who had become used to cheering for everything he said, began to cheer this, but quickly stopped when they realised what he had said. It was only a short moment of embarrassment, but I still wonder how that may have made the performers feel. All I know is that what I felt, during the roughly hour and a half long show, was pure amazement. I don't often describe something as breathtaking, but I found myself literally short of breath after some of the pieces. Later, having discussed the show with some musician friends, and some non-musicians, I realised that my reaction was generally the one that the musicians in the audience experienced, while the non-musicians were actually quite underwhelmed by it all. I can only imagine that it is because the music is so constant, with very little in the way of crescendos, et cetera, that Western ears have become accustomed to hearing in popular music.
Anyhow, now that the Arts festival is over, the summer is taking a lull, I've escaped from the city for the mess that is Race Week, and this weekend I'll be heading to Malahide Castle in Dublin for my first live experience of Prince. I can't say I know what to expect, because I have NO idea, all I know is that I'm very excited!
So I'm going to try to update a little more frequently from now on, there'll be plenty happening between now and Christmas.
Peace, Love and Big Purple Hugs
Dermo.
Galway Arts Festival really brought the city to life. I personally didn't even realise it had started when I made the observation to a friend that there was "more of a party vibe" than usual. Having opted to volunteer once I knew what was going on, I managed to catch a performance of Enda Walsh's 'Misterman', featuring Cillian Murphy. The acting was superb, and the set and lighting was magnificent. The play itself, however, almost disturbed me. It was definitely powerful, but was exceedingly dark, telling the story of one man descending the ladder from 'harmless' to madness. It was a sold-out show twice a day for two weeks. I seriously don't know how the cast and crew managed it. Anyway, that was that.
The other major event of the festival I managed to attend was 'AfroCubism', the mind-blowing, genre-melding all-star line up of Malian and Cuban musicians that formed in 2010 to record and tour together. I had planned to write about that show the next day, but I was still too dazed from what I experienced to write anything remotely objective. The two 'stars' of the show were kora player Toumani Diabaté and Eliades Ochoa of 'Buena Vista Social Club' fame. Having said that, those two were merely the best-known of a stellar line up, each musician an outstanding performer of their instrument. The 13-piece group also featured electric guitar, double bass, congas, balafon, brass, ngoni, tama (Malian talking drum) and various other percussion, in addition to vocals from many band members. Eliades himself had a sore throat or a cold, which he explained to the crowd, after his first introduction, when he explained to us that his English was poor, and spoke in Spanish for the remainder of the show. Nobody cared. The music spoke more clearly than any language. I attempted to understand, but with my limited grasp of Spanish, I only caught a phrase aquí y ahí. Toumani also spoke to the crowd, explaining the rich cultural links between Cuba and Mali. In a rather surreal, and embarrassing moment (for me at least) he explained that the countries are similar because while they are both musically rich, they are physically very poor. The crowd, who had become used to cheering for everything he said, began to cheer this, but quickly stopped when they realised what he had said. It was only a short moment of embarrassment, but I still wonder how that may have made the performers feel. All I know is that what I felt, during the roughly hour and a half long show, was pure amazement. I don't often describe something as breathtaking, but I found myself literally short of breath after some of the pieces. Later, having discussed the show with some musician friends, and some non-musicians, I realised that my reaction was generally the one that the musicians in the audience experienced, while the non-musicians were actually quite underwhelmed by it all. I can only imagine that it is because the music is so constant, with very little in the way of crescendos, et cetera, that Western ears have become accustomed to hearing in popular music.
Anyhow, now that the Arts festival is over, the summer is taking a lull, I've escaped from the city for the mess that is Race Week, and this weekend I'll be heading to Malahide Castle in Dublin for my first live experience of Prince. I can't say I know what to expect, because I have NO idea, all I know is that I'm very excited!
So I'm going to try to update a little more frequently from now on, there'll be plenty happening between now and Christmas.
Peace, Love and Big Purple Hugs
Dermo.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
for a girl
Her style and gracefulness set her apart -
She knows well that she'll always be deep in my heart.
Her green eyes twinkle merrily at a joke we can't hear
Her hair cascades softly, framing each ear
Which listen intently to all you may tell;
And trust when I say she'll remember it well
Her laugh comes on quickly, when times might seem bleak
and contrasts beautifully with her brown-freckled cheek
Yet sometimes a sadness will stifle her smile
a sense of injustice will those times prevail
The world is so much bigger than she can possibly heal,
But her constant attempts to is what makes the dream real
A woman of contrasts, of beauty and fun
her quirky attractions make her the one.
She knows well that she'll always be deep in my heart.
Her green eyes twinkle merrily at a joke we can't hear
Her hair cascades softly, framing each ear
Which listen intently to all you may tell;
And trust when I say she'll remember it well
Her laugh comes on quickly, when times might seem bleak
and contrasts beautifully with her brown-freckled cheek
Yet sometimes a sadness will stifle her smile
a sense of injustice will those times prevail
The world is so much bigger than she can possibly heal,
But her constant attempts to is what makes the dream real
A woman of contrasts, of beauty and fun
her quirky attractions make her the one.
Hazy Moon
There's a hazy moon
I'm waiting for you
I cant say it aloud
But I adore you
The light is dim,
I cant see clearly
it hurts my heart
to want you near me
I miss your touch
That I never truly felt
And I miss your scent,
that I often smelt
I miss the love,
you've never shown
Like that hazy moon
I'll shine alone
That hazy moon
Looks down benignly
It mocks the pain
that I feel inside me
The night grows longer
Than I've ever known it
I've felt so strongly
But never shown it
The hazy moon,
It shines upon me
I'll wait in hope,
drink another whiskey
The days are long
The nights are lonely
but the hazy moon
it gives hope to me
I'm waiting for you
I cant say it aloud
But I adore you
The light is dim,
I cant see clearly
it hurts my heart
to want you near me
I miss your touch
That I never truly felt
And I miss your scent,
that I often smelt
I miss the love,
you've never shown
Like that hazy moon
I'll shine alone
That hazy moon
Looks down benignly
It mocks the pain
that I feel inside me
The night grows longer
Than I've ever known it
I've felt so strongly
But never shown it
The hazy moon,
It shines upon me
I'll wait in hope,
drink another whiskey
The days are long
The nights are lonely
but the hazy moon
it gives hope to me
Monday, June 6, 2011
I do love to read... despite what you've heard
I hate it when I've started reading a book, put it down for a day because it was intense, or because I was too hungover to read, or one of the many other reasons I give myself not to read, and in that time, I either start reading something else, or I forget that I was reading it, or I leave it in the bathroom and only read it when I'm on the throne. But the WORST thing that can happen, is when I try to return to it, and realise that I just don't want to finish it. Sometimes I submit to that feeling, but rarely. In an earlier post, I mentioned a book I was reading called 'The Lost City of Z' which I did not want to finish. I did finish it, however, and I'm glad I did, as it turned out better than I expected. Which is why I feel bad if I actually give up, as the book could turn around and become something gripping. I was inspired to write this post today, as I have just been looking at my bookshelf, and realised that I'm falling behind, as I keep accumulating books, at a much faster rate than I have been reading recently. I think a major reason is that I've been driving myself everywhere recently, whereas before, I used to just hop on a bus or train and read until I got to my destination.
Anyhow, I've compiled a list of the books I have half-read and forgotten about, and then one of the unread books, and attempted to put them in the order in which I intend to read them. I do enjoy making lists, I hope you enjoy perusing them!
until next time,
Peace and paperbacks
Dermo
Half-Read
1.Sword of Shame - Medieval Murderers (current reading)
2. The Yellow Cross - Rene Weis
3.Eachtraí Krishnamurphy - Gabriel Rosenstock (ongoing)
4. Krishnamurphy Ambaist'! - Gabriel Rosenstock
5. Ag Greadadh Bas Sa Reilig/Clapping In The Cemetery - Louis de Paor
6. For Whom the Bell Tolls - Ernest Hemingway
7. Ólann Mo Mhiúil As An nGainséis - Gabriel Rosenstock
8.The King's Gold - Arturo Pérez-Reverte
And once I'm done with those:
1.Lords Of The Bow - Conn Iggulden
2.The Voyage of The Catalpa - Peter F. Stevens
3. Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee - Dee Brown
4. Boy With an Injured Eye - Ronan Sheehan
5.Attila - William Napier
6. Bullaí Mhártain - Síle & Donncha Ó Céileachair
7. The Doctor of Thessaly - Anne Zouroudi
8. Freacnairc Mhearcair - Michael Davitt
9.Resistance - Owen Sheers
10. The Devil is an Irishman - Eddie Lenihan
Anyhow, I've compiled a list of the books I have half-read and forgotten about, and then one of the unread books, and attempted to put them in the order in which I intend to read them. I do enjoy making lists, I hope you enjoy perusing them!
until next time,
Peace and paperbacks
Dermo
Half-Read
1.
2. The Yellow Cross - Rene Weis
3.
4. Krishnamurphy Ambaist'! - Gabriel Rosenstock
5. Ag Greadadh Bas Sa Reilig/Clapping In The Cemetery - Louis de Paor
6. For Whom the Bell Tolls - Ernest Hemingway
7. Ólann Mo Mhiúil As An nGainséis - Gabriel Rosenstock
8.
And once I'm done with those:
1.
2.
3. Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee - Dee Brown
4. Boy With an Injured Eye - Ronan Sheehan
5.
6. Bullaí Mhártain - Síle & Donncha Ó Céileachair
7. The Doctor of Thessaly - Anne Zouroudi
8. Freacnairc Mhearcair - Michael Davitt
9.
10. The Devil is an Irishman - Eddie Lenihan
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Hi Blog
sorry I've been avoiding you. Life gets in the way. lots of Suba Suba gigs. Life Festival, house hunting and job hunting have taken up all my time for the last two weeks. expect a proper update later this week.
Peace and love.
Peace and love.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Lough Arrow's Side
I got this ballad from the singing of Tommy Kerins, a Sligo native who resides in Australia. He performed it at the Paddy Killoran Festival in Ballymote a few years ago, where it was filmed, and this is my transcription. The lyrics may not be totally accurate, but it's a good song.
Well God be with the good old days, when youthful I did roam,
Down by Lough Arrow's lovely banks beside my native home.
With mountain vales and fields so green and moorlands broad and wide,
and lovely woods that can be seen down by Lough Arrows side
The graceful scenes of Curlew Hills and Hollybrook I see.
And further on, and brighter still lies beautiful Lough Key.
Where often in the days gone by we sat there side by side
or boated on your waters bright down by Lough Arrows side.
How nice a run-down schoolhouse stands along the public road
with fertile fields on either hand quite near to my abode.
where often in my youthful days i stayed at evening tide
from comrades grand I had to leave down by Lough Arrows side
I had to leave my native home and cross the raging sea
and settle in columbias land, my future home to be,
where pretty girls so fair and bright, so modest and blue-eyed
Are exiles on Columbia's shore far from Lough Arrows side
its now i think of the Highwood boys and the girls round Killadoon
Killashee and lakeview too, and likewise Ballindoon
and when at night the moon shone bright we'd dance at the corners wide
and sing and boast and drink a toast down back Lough Arrow's side
how often in my dreams ive seen the master teach at school
or watch the mistress cross the bridge each evening as a rule
Or watch bright Arrows waters flow as they did at eveningtide
when I was but a schoolboy lived down by Lough Arrows side
alas those days are past and gone, we neer shall see them more
when carefree lads we sported on the Heapstown hills galore
when as from home we had to go and cross the raging sea
and bid farewell to all we loved and to lough Arrows side
Well God be with the good old days, when youthful I did roam,
Down by Lough Arrow's lovely banks beside my native home.
With mountain vales and fields so green and moorlands broad and wide,
and lovely woods that can be seen down by Lough Arrows side
The graceful scenes of Curlew Hills and Hollybrook I see.
And further on, and brighter still lies beautiful Lough Key.
Where often in the days gone by we sat there side by side
or boated on your waters bright down by Lough Arrows side.
How nice a run-down schoolhouse stands along the public road
with fertile fields on either hand quite near to my abode.
where often in my youthful days i stayed at evening tide
from comrades grand I had to leave down by Lough Arrows side
I had to leave my native home and cross the raging sea
and settle in columbias land, my future home to be,
where pretty girls so fair and bright, so modest and blue-eyed
Are exiles on Columbia's shore far from Lough Arrows side
its now i think of the Highwood boys and the girls round Killadoon
Killashee and lakeview too, and likewise Ballindoon
and when at night the moon shone bright we'd dance at the corners wide
and sing and boast and drink a toast down back Lough Arrow's side
how often in my dreams ive seen the master teach at school
or watch the mistress cross the bridge each evening as a rule
Or watch bright Arrows waters flow as they did at eveningtide
when I was but a schoolboy lived down by Lough Arrows side
alas those days are past and gone, we neer shall see them more
when carefree lads we sported on the Heapstown hills galore
when as from home we had to go and cross the raging sea
and bid farewell to all we loved and to lough Arrows side
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Needless Wordology
Right so today my blog is going to be a bit off the cuff, a little extraneous, maybe even superfluous to requirements. I am going to start by expounding upon the theory (that I am making up as I go along) that people who are intelligent, educated, or simply read a lot (none of which implies the other is present) have a particular tendency to use large words in various places in their daily discourse, in order to flaunt their assumed superiority in these matters over their erstwhile companions. Of course this habit is, to some extent, endearing in those who can pull it off well; but in the majority of people it makes them seem pretentious (an adjective I tend to overuse), obnoxious, or even obstreperous. The usage of such florid verbosity does not add, nor take away from their personality (or lack thereof) but simply confuses the hell out of the person listening. That is, unless the other person is also a wordmonger. The suffix '-monger' does not always denote a negative trade, but in this instance, I would lump a 'wordmonger' in with the likes of 'Warmonger' and 'Fleshmonger' in the negative camp. I would not use the term 'wordsmith' which implies a certain mastery of craft (I would not use it to describe myself, certainly.) Words are powerful. Words have life. They are not simple objects to be flung around in pursuit of superiority. At some points in everyone's life, a short period of time should be taken to reflect in silence. Allow your words to rest. Nobody has an infinite amount. We have as many as we need. For some that may be thousands, in the case of politicians, lawyers and other types who use the power of words and their inherent malleability on a daily basis to earn their salaries. Others may have no words at all. Lost child soldiers in Central Africa; illiterate farmers; mountain tribes in Nepal; and even the dispossessed in our own society, the homeless, the unfortunate, the sick, the elderly. These people have no words to describe what they suffer. Maybe it should be up to those of us who have the words to take a rest from using them for our own gain, and to use them to promote awareness. Some of the organisations which I want to use my words to promote include:
Simon Community of Ireland:
and especially Galway Simon:
Invisible Children:
and finally VCD Nepal:
Thank you. peace and love. not just from me, or for me. but from everyone, to everyone.
Dermo
Simon Community of Ireland:
and especially Galway Simon:
Invisible Children:
and finally VCD Nepal:
Thank you. peace and love. not just from me, or for me. but from everyone, to everyone.
Dermo
Monday, April 18, 2011
This is a verse or two which I scribbled at 5am
Don't you try to bring me down
like sumo wrestlers do
I've got an evil masterplan
That's of no concern to you
a door closes in the dead of night
as I trip into the mist
so don't attempt to foil my plans
your presence may not be missed
so sleep you not oh foolish one
for your mindplay seems absurd
keep good watch on every move
for on deaf ears falls no word..
I think I might have to write some more for this, but it came out of nowhere and very likely that's where it'll go back to. still at least here is something for the archives.
like sumo wrestlers do
I've got an evil masterplan
That's of no concern to you
a door closes in the dead of night
as I trip into the mist
so don't attempt to foil my plans
your presence may not be missed
so sleep you not oh foolish one
for your mindplay seems absurd
keep good watch on every move
for on deaf ears falls no word..
I think I might have to write some more for this, but it came out of nowhere and very likely that's where it'll go back to. still at least here is something for the archives.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Not To Worry
All in life is chance, as they say. It's probably true. Clichés do have that working in their favour.
Since my last update, I have become a little more adept at decision making, and moulding those chances to my own advantage. I finally took the plunge, rented a car, and drove it round on American roads. after a shaky start, I'm beginning to feel comfortable with it all. Now all I need to do is to figure out fun places to go in it. that shouldn't be a problem...
Also, for those who have never read my blog before, this is going to be a short post, I am currently not thinking so many jumbled thoughts as usual. I have been reading up on 17th/19th c. history and that is something which interests me. In other news, I am on a short trip to see that special someone, so I'm endeavouring not to spend all my time living vicariously through the internet.
Wishing you all Peace, Love and a Worry-free wallet.
Dermo
Since my last update, I have become a little more adept at decision making, and moulding those chances to my own advantage. I finally took the plunge, rented a car, and drove it round on American roads. after a shaky start, I'm beginning to feel comfortable with it all. Now all I need to do is to figure out fun places to go in it. that shouldn't be a problem...
Also, for those who have never read my blog before, this is going to be a short post, I am currently not thinking so many jumbled thoughts as usual. I have been reading up on 17th/19th c. history and that is something which interests me. In other news, I am on a short trip to see that special someone, so I'm endeavouring not to spend all my time living vicariously through the internet.
Wishing you all Peace, Love and a Worry-free wallet.
Dermo
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Eat Well, Live Well.
So I promised to start blogging more. I've been in California for the last two days, and the life and climate of this country give rise to many, many different topics to blog about. Maybe this is why many Californians are bloggers. who knows?!
To begin with, I must praise the climate. Warmth and daylight make people happier, and there does seem to be a certain sense of 'sunniness' from the people here. Even if they are serving you coffee in Starbuck's. It is a pleasant place to wander around. Now don't get me wrong, I'm sure it has its downside and seedy underbelly too. I have been lucky to see nice parts of it. Okay, enough gushing about the good things.
I promised someone I'd blog about cattle. Yesterday, as we drove north towards San Jose, we were passing by miles upon miles of rolling green pasture. To the west, the mountains rose up about 3/4 miles away. The shade of green was so healthy-looking, I was disappointed to see it so empty. In Ireland that amount of grassy hillside would sustain more cattle or sheep than currently make up the livestock population. Why are there no sheep on the hills? It may just be a symptom of homesickness, wanting to see green hills with the little white dots all over, sheep climbing up to pastures that cows probably couldn't get to. Either way, I wondered where the cows were. I'd seen the TV ads for California dairy products, where the tag-line says "California cows are Happy Cows." Well, I discovered shortly afterwards, and these cows did not look like they were happy. For about 2 miles along the highway, and about a mile deep, what could only be described as a multitude of cattle were pent up in a corral, nose to tail, and barely enough room to even swing a tail, at that. I wondered at the mindset that thinks this is good farming practice, and wondered even more at the quality of the beef or dairy produced. Even this is probably considered 'humane' or 'organic' farming. I do not claim to know anything about farming practice, but I do know that in the modern world, it is all about profit. Quality in food, just like standards in hospitals or durability in products, has been sacrificed in the name of the almighty dollar. I always attempt to eat organic foods, wherever possible, but in the present climate, it is often hard to find food that is organic or homegrown which does not cost a week's wages.
Today's dinner was beef or fish, neither of which was labelled as to origin. I tried both, and found the beef hard and stringy, and the fish soft and tasteless.
I have, in the past week or so, been seriously considering vegetarianism. I think that it would be very difficult for me to give up bacon and ham, and more especially fish. Most other meat I could very well live without. I plan to start my new diet as soon as this crazy touring schedule ends. I think semi-vegetarian is as good a plan as any.
On a completely different note, I saw a band called The Steelwells perform in Visalia and am their new biggest fan. I had a chat with the drummer after the gig and he was a sound guy. In fact they all seem like sound guys. I reckon their music will do well over in Ireland. I'm going to be bigging them up for the next while. check them out: http://thesteelwells.blogspot.com/ http://www.myspace.com/thesteelwells or on Twitter @thesteelwells
And finally, on a note that ties together California, music, and living well, I must just add that I have been back listening to Jackson Browne quite a lot recently. His melodies and lyrics just move me. Sublime.
Peace, Love and Gut Health to you all.
Dermo
To begin with, I must praise the climate. Warmth and daylight make people happier, and there does seem to be a certain sense of 'sunniness' from the people here. Even if they are serving you coffee in Starbuck's. It is a pleasant place to wander around. Now don't get me wrong, I'm sure it has its downside and seedy underbelly too. I have been lucky to see nice parts of it. Okay, enough gushing about the good things.
I promised someone I'd blog about cattle. Yesterday, as we drove north towards San Jose, we were passing by miles upon miles of rolling green pasture. To the west, the mountains rose up about 3/4 miles away. The shade of green was so healthy-looking, I was disappointed to see it so empty. In Ireland that amount of grassy hillside would sustain more cattle or sheep than currently make up the livestock population. Why are there no sheep on the hills? It may just be a symptom of homesickness, wanting to see green hills with the little white dots all over, sheep climbing up to pastures that cows probably couldn't get to. Either way, I wondered where the cows were. I'd seen the TV ads for California dairy products, where the tag-line says "California cows are Happy Cows." Well, I discovered shortly afterwards, and these cows did not look like they were happy. For about 2 miles along the highway, and about a mile deep, what could only be described as a multitude of cattle were pent up in a corral, nose to tail, and barely enough room to even swing a tail, at that. I wondered at the mindset that thinks this is good farming practice, and wondered even more at the quality of the beef or dairy produced. Even this is probably considered 'humane' or 'organic' farming. I do not claim to know anything about farming practice, but I do know that in the modern world, it is all about profit. Quality in food, just like standards in hospitals or durability in products, has been sacrificed in the name of the almighty dollar. I always attempt to eat organic foods, wherever possible, but in the present climate, it is often hard to find food that is organic or homegrown which does not cost a week's wages.
Today's dinner was beef or fish, neither of which was labelled as to origin. I tried both, and found the beef hard and stringy, and the fish soft and tasteless.
I have, in the past week or so, been seriously considering vegetarianism. I think that it would be very difficult for me to give up bacon and ham, and more especially fish. Most other meat I could very well live without. I plan to start my new diet as soon as this crazy touring schedule ends. I think semi-vegetarian is as good a plan as any.
On a completely different note, I saw a band called The Steelwells perform in Visalia and am their new biggest fan. I had a chat with the drummer after the gig and he was a sound guy. In fact they all seem like sound guys. I reckon their music will do well over in Ireland. I'm going to be bigging them up for the next while. check them out: http://thesteelwells.blogspot.com/ http://www.myspace.com/thesteelwells or on Twitter @thesteelwells
And finally, on a note that ties together California, music, and living well, I must just add that I have been back listening to Jackson Browne quite a lot recently. His melodies and lyrics just move me. Sublime.
Peace, Love and Gut Health to you all.
Dermo
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Mad as March Hair
So today, I got a haircut for the first time since about June 2010. The length of my hair was not the problem, but the sheer weight and thickness of it was weighing down on my spirit, mind and body. I was hoping to somehow thin it out without losing TOO much of the length. So today I took the plunge. normally I'm quite wary of barber shops, basically because I've had so many bad haircuts, many of which result in me going back to almost a military-style short cut. Surprisingly, this did not happen. The venue is a small town in rural Pennsylvania, built almost entirely on hills. after googling the place, I found a barber right down the street. I walked in, unsure of what to expect. it immediately felt like I was in a 1950s style movie barber shop. old-fashioned and friendly and what is more, they actually gave me what I asked for. And more: a hot towel, straight razor shave and beard shaping. I feel better groomed and less scruffy than I have for a very long time.
Other than that, I finally finished the 'Lost City' which was actually not that bad, except it ended up being an anticlimax. my next book to start, which will probably be tomorrow, is Ernest Hemingway's 'For Whom The Bell Tolls.' I am looking forward to it, I haven't read a novel in quite some time.
Today was quite pleasant, I spent the afternoon listening to music which I haven't heard in a while, some of the staples being Tom Petty, Neil Young, and some of the more obscure Tom Waits tracks.
a minor note this week is the occurrence of a small festival called St. Patrick's Day. It is generally celebrated in the USA the weekend beforehand, and last Saturday saw us playing two shows back to back in Roanoke, Virginia, before heading bar-wards to engage in some debauchery. the day itself will be a quiet one for us, as we are playing in a casino in the afternoon, and are spending the evening and the majority of the night on the bus from upstate New York to Charlotte, North Carolina. Touring can take its toll on one, physically and mentally. At this point many of us are feeling the strain, so not partying too much is probably a good thing..
Having said that, I am currently exhausted, and am going to go grab a quick nap before show time.
I love my work.
Peace, Love and naps.
Dermo
Other than that, I finally finished the 'Lost City' which was actually not that bad, except it ended up being an anticlimax. my next book to start, which will probably be tomorrow, is Ernest Hemingway's 'For Whom The Bell Tolls.' I am looking forward to it, I haven't read a novel in quite some time.
Today was quite pleasant, I spent the afternoon listening to music which I haven't heard in a while, some of the staples being Tom Petty, Neil Young, and some of the more obscure Tom Waits tracks.
a minor note this week is the occurrence of a small festival called St. Patrick's Day. It is generally celebrated in the USA the weekend beforehand, and last Saturday saw us playing two shows back to back in Roanoke, Virginia, before heading bar-wards to engage in some debauchery. the day itself will be a quiet one for us, as we are playing in a casino in the afternoon, and are spending the evening and the majority of the night on the bus from upstate New York to Charlotte, North Carolina. Touring can take its toll on one, physically and mentally. At this point many of us are feeling the strain, so not partying too much is probably a good thing..
Having said that, I am currently exhausted, and am going to go grab a quick nap before show time.
I love my work.
Peace, Love and naps.
Dermo
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