MacAmergin's Tales on KLLG-LP 97.9 Willits, California
January 3, 2017

January 3, 2017 MacAmergin's Tales

Here is the pilot for my new radio show, MacAmergin's Tales on KLLG-LP 97.9 Willits Hometown Radio. I hope to post the new one each week. I have 5 more to get up after this one. Many thanks to Les Tarr for making this work!

MacAmergin's Tales Pilot Show 2016

The Warning - A poem by Liam UiCearbhaill

In 1997 I woke up one night in September and wrote this poem in about 15 minutes. It has had a deep impact on my life ever since.

This poem is in the collection Poetry's Purpose

Available for Kindle download at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YX2VZ78

Available in Printed version at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/uicearbhaill

Available for purchase at The Book Juggler http://www.thebookjuggler.com/store.php

=======================================================

The Warning

In days of yore, in depths of time

When all the world was wholly mine

The beasts and birds, the rolling grass

The vales and streams, the mountain pass

The sky above, the sea below

The arctic ice where blizzards blow

T’was then, in joy in all that was

I clear conceived a wondrous cause

To know a creature who could see

All the things that came from me

A sunset’s glow and waterfalls

A stormy night and lightning balls

Who’d wonder at the evening star

And question what those night lights are

Who’d gasp with joy at canyons grand

And seek the peace of seashore sand

I molded him from primate clay

And shaped her spirit for the day

When moved by beauty seen without

Her soul within would leap to shout

And he, from urgings deep inside

Sung music that his soul had cried

I gave them minds to grasp a thought

And hands to grasp the things they wrought

For forty thousand years or more

On tundra steppe and forest floor

They lived as part of what I’d made

In cave and hut, with chipped stone blade

Their lives were hard, but still were good

I gave them joy, I gave them food

I gave them beauty in the land

They gave me thanks with both their hands

They hunted for the bison strong

And gathered grains from grasses long

They saw my moon hung in the sky

And watched the eagle circling high

They learned the way of beast and bug

Of mastodon and trout and slug

They learned which plants would heal their woes

The willow’s bark, the hips of rose

In gratefulness they slew their prey

Then, thankful for their food that day

Expressed their thanks in art and dance

Or mimicked there the elk-herd prance

Or left the earth some pretty gift

Upon some seaward facing cliff

They knew that all the things they ate

Were gifts to them from Heaven’s gate

Then once, ten thousand years ago

A bag of seed was somehow sowed

Upon a patch of broken dirt

As hunters did with farming flirt

And someone caught a baby cow

And raised it to adult somehow

And ever after changed the face

Of how did live the human race

No longer did you hunt and seek

To find the things that you would eat

But rather did you farm and herd

Taming tree and beast and bird

You owned the things that once were mine

The hillock high, the vale sublime

You chained the streams and rivers too

Built dam, canal, and lock, and slough

You carved my land for highways long

Bored tunnels deep through mountains strong

You killed my bison for their hides

And filled my streams with pesticides

You filled my sky with stench and smoke

And caused my creatures all to choke

You spilled my oil upon my sea

And killed my whales, so huge and free

To fill your pockets with my gold

You tore down mountains tall and bold

And scarred my earth to dig my coal

With piles of slag and gaping holes

You claimed that all you saw was thine

To kill and maim, to dig and mine

You set yourselves apart from me

And o’er my world claimed sovereignty

How patiently I watched you grow

Who once did hunt and now did sow

I spoke to you by prophets bold

Who for your wayward ways did scold

You built up temples large and grand

And slaughtered for me beast and man

And by these things you sickened me

Bu still I left you growing free

So then you found creative ways

To send each other to the grave

With sword and spear and bomb and gun

With gas and germs, you’ve had your fun

You filled my sky with birds of war

You filled my ears with cannons' roar

With chemicals you killed my trees

That snipers you might better see

My patience now draws to an end

No longer can I call you friend

You threaten all that I have made

The tidal pool, the forest glade

And with that worst monstrosity

You threaten all that you can see

For on that fateful Summer day

When Hiroshima went away

You told me that I could not trust

The human race and that I must

Protect my world from what you are

A cancer and a source of war

The end is near, do not delude

Yourselves or cop an attitude

But if you seek to still survive

Then turn to me to live your lives

You share the rock on which you stand

You do not own the sea or land

The air about you is not thine

Nor rivers as they sea-ward wind

You do not own the grass and trees

The birds and beasts belong to me

The mountains high, the valleys low

Are mine to tend the things they grow

My anger grows with every puff

Of factory smoke or toxic stuff

Dumped in rivers dammed and stopped

With dirt and slag, with muck and glop

With every tree that’s sacrificed

To print an ad for PC mice

Or jungle burned for farming land

Or dolphin killed for tuna canned

The end is near, be not deceived

Despite what some of you believe

I can defend what is my own

Your self-defense is overblown

Catastrophes will come from me

Your scientists will never see

And when the human terror ends

I will begin my world to mend

The Dancer - a poem by Liam UiCearbhaill

A little over 20 years ago I learned a little about Arabic rhythms. One of those rhythms,  Masmudi Kabir, still haunts me. This poem was an attempt to reflect that rhythm in verse. Here is a link to compare http://www.maqamworld.com/rhythms/muwashahat2.html#masmudi_kabir

his poem is in the collection Poetry's Purpose

Available for Kindle download at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YX2VZ78

Available in Printed version at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/uicearbhaill

Available for purchase at The Book Juggler http://www.thebookjuggler.com/store.php

=====================================

The Dancer

Danced,
The girl danced, she did
And she danced for the crowd to see

Cheered,
The crowd cheered for her
Though her eyes were for only me

Swayed,
Her hips swayed the beat
While her chest moved the other way

Swirled,
The veil flew through air
While the light on her jewels did play

Smiled,
The girl smiled for me
While her moves held my heart in thrall

Danced,
On my heart-strings now
As I to her spell did fall

Freed,
From my mundane life
By the pound of an Arab drum

Caught,
By her kohl-blacked eyes
And the swirl and the sway and the thrum

Stopped
The drum silent now
And the girl on the stage stands still

Thoughts,
Only mem’ry now
But the thought gives my heart a thrill

Here and Now - a poem by Liam UiCearbhaill

This poem is in the collection Poetry's Purpose

Available for Kindle download at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YX2VZ78

Available in Printed version at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/uicearbhaill

Available for purchase at The Book Juggler http://www.thebookjuggler.com/store.php

===================================================================

Here and Now

The moment is now. It lasts for forever
The place, it is here, unbounded in space
The past is a memory, the future unreal
And here, in this moment, is hidden God’s face

Think not of a somewhere that’s other than here
Think not of a sometime, future nor past
Think not of the should have’s, or could have’s, or will be’s
Think only of now, and the Now, it will last

We hurry from yesterday unto tomorrow
From places we’ve been to places we’ll go
In transit forever and never arriving
Racing through traffic, afraid to go slow

Afraid what we’ll meet if we stop for a moment
Afraid that the mirror will show us our face
Afraid of the nothing that’s hidden inside us
Afraid that we’ll lose if we don’t run the race

And yet we are never escaped from the moment
It holds us more firmly than Heaven or Hell
And here is the place we abide in forever
We cannot be elsewhere, we know this fact well

So be here and be now with all of your being
Drink deep of the present, whatever it brings
Your heart and God’s heart in harmony blending
In this place, in this now, the symphony sings

Pleasantries - a poem by Liam UiCearbhaill

As I scanned through my book for a poem appropriate to Thanksgiving, this one leaped out at me from the page. I wrote it at a small outdoor cafe in Sacramento on the corner of 10th and H in about 1995. I am thankful for the food on my table and even more thankful for generosity in my society. Though at times it is hard to see, it is there. Lately I find good people, whom I know to be kind and generous from my past dealing with them to be responding in fear to all the horrendous things happening in the world today. That saddens me.

Terrorism, in the word we use to describe it, means instilling terror in a society. If we allow ourselves to surrender to that fear then we have declared the terrorists to be the victors. It is only in finding and expressing the generosity in our souls that we truly combat the dangers facing us. So long as we stand for generosity and against fear, we win. I say, Onward to Victory!

This poem is in the collection Poetry's Purpose

Available for Kindle download at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YX2VZ78

Available in Printed version at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/uicearbhaill

Available for purchase at The Book Juggler http://www.thebookjuggler.com/store.php

===================================================================

Pleasantries

A pretty girl picking through
A trash can for some food
Haply finds a sandwich half
Enhancing her good mood

Woman with an extra half
At cafe table near
Offers it up to the girl
Without a trace of fear

Short exchange of pleasantries
No guilt, no hard luck tale
Just normal life, here in town

The words within me fail

The Green Begins - a poem by Liam UiCearbhaill

Autumn has come early to California this year. Though the calendar claims that Summer still rules the hemisphere, the yellow leaves have begun to fall and the poison oak is bright red against the trunks of trees in the forest. I don't recall exactly when I wrote this poem, except that it was at this time of year when I was living in Sacramento (at least 15 years ago, probably closer to 18 years).

This poem is in the collection Poetry's Purpose

Available for Kindle download at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YX2VZ78

Available in Printed version at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/uicearbhaill

Available for purchase at The Book Juggler http://www.thebookjuggler.com/store.php

=============================================================

The Green Begins

The Golden State is tarnished

As Autumn drops its leaves

And casts its ragged flotsam on the fields

The brown is overwhelming

It permeates my soul

As Summer Daze to Autumn Haze does yield

The Brown sets in

The dreariness of Autumn

With its light of smoky hue

Is prelude to the frigid days ahead

The daylight time is shortened

The nights grow ever long

As if the Earth itself prepares for bed

The Dark crowds in

Then raindrops from the heavens

Clean out the hazy air

And penetrate the litter of the Fall

The grass in Gaia’s bosom

Is tickled from its sleep

Its color is Her present to us all

The Green begins

Throughout the frigid Winter

With frost and rain and hail

The lushest grass and mosses can be seen

Their promise of the Springtime

And speech of life itself

Is spoken in their myriad shades of green

The Life Hope wins