C ool-weather Bird of Paradise, spread your
O range wings of Kilkenny's Celtic dawn over my
P allid fields of scorched flesh and charred bones.
P hoenix rising to your lips, I am
E ire's promise of the Emerald Eye
R esurrected from the fires of Christian wars.
A iren, Christ of Ireland and Dragon of the Stone,
N ever turn your back on the Little People.
G reen clover bends in the shadow of your steps while
E agles pluck St. Patrick's bones and
L eprechauns dance rings around your copper-penny hair.
O my gay brothers and sisters of Airen's Land,
You have suffered o'er much.
'Tis time for your shackles to drop to the ground,
And your wings to sprout!
Lead the way to revolution,
Druid Republic arise in Emerald Splendor!
Thou art LEADERS over breeders!
Fear not the lash, the tongue, the gun,
For you ARE now INVINCIBLE!
Give the curs-ed heteros HELL
If such be your pleasure.
For NO straight person can even come close
To your measure
Of sacrifice, pride, wisdom and treasure!
BLAST the Blarney Stone to Kingdom Cum,
No kisses shall evermore be wasted
On deceptive straight tongue
While Jesus yearns to love his BROTHER,
Because thou art so very well hung!
Guilt is not the ruler of innocent lamb,
Nor Catholic dogma
That would have us DAMNED
For everlasting TIME,
'Cause brotherly love they deem
The ULTIMATE crime!
Arise triumphant, O Celtic Nation, in all your Lavender Glory!
Gay leaders EMERGE from Belfast's cinders
Of Christian strife.
Be not concerned with gender.
Ye are not to judge who packs the fudge,
But only with dismember
Of stillborn legal bodies
And intentional DECEIT that dis-remembers
Eire's noble history
Of same-sex love whose breath keeps aglow
Those pagan embers.