Dixie Elliot ✒ Forty one years have passed since word reached us in our cells that our comrade, brave Kieran Doherty TD, had died after 73 days on Hunger Strike.

Fuair sé bás ar son saoirse na hÉireann:


The Shadows of the Past.

They gather round that fire
which lights the darkest night.
The shadows of the past; they took on
Britain's might.
♜ ♞ 
The peasant with the pike,
who died in bloody battle.
Those who followed Pearse
to death amidst the gunfire's rattle.
♜ ♞ 
Then followed in their turn,
sons and daughters of the land,
and Dublins slums, and Northern towns
once more the flame was fanned.
♜ ♞ 
They lay in wait with Barry, crossed
rain-swept hills with Breen.
And fought with fearless Treacy who fell on Talbot Street.
Betrayed by the politician, killed by the Stater's hand. At the Four Courts, Ballyseedy and outside Cahersiveen.
♜ ♞  
The fire burned low, the dying embers
barely gave off light.
The shadows of the past were fading, as
darkness crept upon them in the night.
♜ ♞  
The flames were reignited, in the Bogside
and on the Falls.
Death the only future, fear was ever present. But courage kept the fire alight and shattered prison walls.
 ♜ ♞ 
The shadows of the past gather round the fire and wait.
That fire has burned on Oulart Hill
since 1798.

Thomas Dixie Elliot is a Derry artist and a former H Block Blanketman.
Follow Dixie Elliot on Twitter @IsMise_Dixie

Honouring Kieran Doherty

Dixie Elliot ✒ Forty one years have passed since word reached us in our cells that our comrade, brave Kieran Doherty TD, had died after 73 days on Hunger Strike.

Fuair sé bás ar son saoirse na hÉireann:


The Shadows of the Past.

They gather round that fire
which lights the darkest night.
The shadows of the past; they took on
Britain's might.
♜ ♞ 
The peasant with the pike,
who died in bloody battle.
Those who followed Pearse
to death amidst the gunfire's rattle.
♜ ♞ 
Then followed in their turn,
sons and daughters of the land,
and Dublins slums, and Northern towns
once more the flame was fanned.
♜ ♞ 
They lay in wait with Barry, crossed
rain-swept hills with Breen.
And fought with fearless Treacy who fell on Talbot Street.
Betrayed by the politician, killed by the Stater's hand. At the Four Courts, Ballyseedy and outside Cahersiveen.
♜ ♞  
The fire burned low, the dying embers
barely gave off light.
The shadows of the past were fading, as
darkness crept upon them in the night.
♜ ♞  
The flames were reignited, in the Bogside
and on the Falls.
Death the only future, fear was ever present. But courage kept the fire alight and shattered prison walls.
 ♜ ♞ 
The shadows of the past gather round the fire and wait.
That fire has burned on Oulart Hill
since 1798.

Thomas Dixie Elliot is a Derry artist and a former H Block Blanketman.
Follow Dixie Elliot on Twitter @IsMise_Dixie

4 comments:

  1. Rhetorical and ideological waffle leads generally to further antagonism, proceeding then to only further war. Victory through pragmatic and timely surrenders.

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    Replies
    1. I am not quite sure that communicates too well.

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  2. Again a lovely tribute by Dixie.
    Anthony thank you for your insightful response . I re read Carrie s 55 hours in early July as Joe Mc Donnell and Martin Hurson s anniversary s approached. A very hard read and shattering to think that unbeknown to the prisoners on hunger strike, that there was an acceptable offer on the table to come off the fast. And again corroborated in later years by Brendan Duddy, and Richard o Rawe. It really made a tragic situation all the more tragic, when as you said, it came from, not the enemy but from with in.

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    Replies
    1. Lou - it is a fine tribute.
      I had many a chat with Kieran on Sundays in the canteen for mass. Very determined and focused. He had a probing intellect. Anything that would come our way about real politics or political theory he would delve into it. Had he lived he would have brought a keen mind to the project.
      Him and Pickles were great buddies. Fortunately Pickles made it through but it was a terrible loss for him when Doc died.
      The painful thing is that Kieran was one of the Sacrificed Six, needlessly put to the sword on the political career altar of others.
      When I think of it, the words of a poem, The Spy by Jorge Luis Borges, comes to mind: I betrayed those who believed me their friend.

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