The Troubles

The Troubles, mixed media on mylar, 20x30in, 2012

Conspiracy Theory
 
A training ground for the British Army
Sorry to alarm yeh,
But they called it The Troubles
Cause they never really, took it seriously.
It was just quite handy
To patrol in armoured Landy
Streets and fields
With guaranteed hot meals
A foreign hostile land
Without sun or sand
Not too far from England
Cut down on fuel cost
And what of lives lost
Sure they didn’t give a toss.
They had this trick
Where they’d take a mick
Up in a helicopter,
Blind fold the bugger,
Hover, lower
Then kick him out,
Laugh as he’d shout
Or white light, white noise
For the Long Kesh boys
Internment – where you have a stint
At her majesty’s pleasure,
With no charge or jury to measure
The nature of your crime
Or length of your time.
They use the word
To hide the absurd
Internment – imprisonment
The Troubles - civil war
Plantation – occupation
People stripped of right
Forced from land and sight.
But back to living history
It really is no mystery
The Troubles helped the army
The little occupation,
Didn’t cause a refugee situation
People ran away,
To see another day
On foreign building sites,
Or worked nights
In a cousins Irish pub
Found a way to slug
It out
This Northern Irish rout
People fled,
Saw loved ones shot dead
And among the troubled faces
The army built bases
Blocked roads, built watch towers
To watch the people cower
And when the IRA got real power
By bombing a Brighton hotel,
Making Thatcher see the hell,
She had unleashed,
On many a person’s head,
Saw her own loved ones dead
So Maggie says,
I think it would be wise
To talk and compromise
And a quarter of a century later,
We still berate her
The hunger striker hater
And as we try and reason why
Too many people die
I say disband army
They have little sympathy
With the civilian population
They worsen a situation
We need an army of social workers
Physiatrists, physios, Doctors,
So take your 19 year old yob
And find him a better job
Train him in chemotherapy
Cause where I’m from cancer is the real enemy
The new land mine, death that takes time,
Killed slowly through neglect
And the politicians don’t give a feck
Them ex-terrorists got paid off
While the alliance got laid off.
My mum marched for civil rights
Joined the peace people, stayed out of fights,
Now she’s rolling in pain
Because the healthcare provision is insane,
While the politicians are rolling in sterling
Guess it must dilute the all-Ireland yearning.

Catherine Brogan