Brendan Curran with a poem from his expansive body of work.

22-May-2022

 Gough Barracks (RUC Interrogation Centre) 

They pull you from your waking bed
They chain your hands they beat your head
They drag you to the metal pig in the street
They throw you in and wooden batons greet
♞♜♝
They drive off fast with its high pitch tone
A monster on wheels, you are all alone
Your mind is racing, is this the end?
Will they shoot me in the back, like many friends
♞♜♝
They reverse it up to the barracks door
Then they start to beat you again once more
The police stand grinning at your plight
Dressed half naked, cold in the night
♞♜♝
The take you to the shed out the back
They make you spread eagled as on a rack
Your hands barly touch the cold stone wall
They strike you again and again until you fall
♞♜♝
The police release you from this living hell
They take you hand cuffed to their holding cell
They search you, print you with out a smile 
They leave you all alone for a worrying while
♞♜♝
Then the men in suits peek through the cell door
They kick it and thump it to worry you more
Then they take you like a product to where they belong
They smash their fists on the table and sing the solider song
♞♜♝
They shout and embarrass you through out the day
They have 6 days left to get their way
They talk about crimes that you have done
Your fear is your weakness, they make it their fun
♞♜♝
But then they discover that you're a stone wall
They keep asking you things … but you don’t speak at all
You murdering bastard, we know it was you . . . 
They shout and they swear until their face is blue
♞♜♝
You know that your winning, when they threaten you with death
That they have witnesses who saw you, and are gonna confess
they scream and they shout, we have arrested your wife
She is in the cell next door . . . he is going to get life
♞♜♝
8 interrogations every day, they try so hard to put you away
But they can’t break your spirit, no matter what they say
Their 7 days are all done, they did not get their way
It’s time for release . . . you and defiance have won the day

⏩ Brendan Curran, The Poet Without A Pen.

Gough Barracks

Brendan Curran with a poem from his expansive body of work.

22-May-2022

 Gough Barracks (RUC Interrogation Centre) 

They pull you from your waking bed
They chain your hands they beat your head
They drag you to the metal pig in the street
They throw you in and wooden batons greet
♞♜♝
They drive off fast with its high pitch tone
A monster on wheels, you are all alone
Your mind is racing, is this the end?
Will they shoot me in the back, like many friends
♞♜♝
They reverse it up to the barracks door
Then they start to beat you again once more
The police stand grinning at your plight
Dressed half naked, cold in the night
♞♜♝
The take you to the shed out the back
They make you spread eagled as on a rack
Your hands barly touch the cold stone wall
They strike you again and again until you fall
♞♜♝
The police release you from this living hell
They take you hand cuffed to their holding cell
They search you, print you with out a smile 
They leave you all alone for a worrying while
♞♜♝
Then the men in suits peek through the cell door
They kick it and thump it to worry you more
Then they take you like a product to where they belong
They smash their fists on the table and sing the solider song
♞♜♝
They shout and embarrass you through out the day
They have 6 days left to get their way
They talk about crimes that you have done
Your fear is your weakness, they make it their fun
♞♜♝
But then they discover that you're a stone wall
They keep asking you things … but you don’t speak at all
You murdering bastard, we know it was you . . . 
They shout and they swear until their face is blue
♞♜♝
You know that your winning, when they threaten you with death
That they have witnesses who saw you, and are gonna confess
they scream and they shout, we have arrested your wife
She is in the cell next door . . . he is going to get life
♞♜♝
8 interrogations every day, they try so hard to put you away
But they can’t break your spirit, no matter what they say
Their 7 days are all done, they did not get their way
It’s time for release . . . you and defiance have won the day

⏩ Brendan Curran, The Poet Without A Pen.

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