By now the flame was straight and still,
It spoke no more and began to drift away
From us, with sanction from Berrigan,
When another, that came behind it,
Drew our attention to its tip
With the strangled sounds that issued from it.
As a torture victim, shut in the romper room,
Will let out cries of pain as the Prods
Set about their sectarian DIY,
But because his mouth is strapped with
Insulation tape, the voice remains muffled,
So the dismal words here seemed eaten up by the flame.
Yet just as the voice will grow clear when the tape
Is ripped off, so now the words, having found
Their way to the tip of the flame,
Which gave them outlet like a tongue,
Became audible, and we heard it say:
‘Did I hear you talking in the voices
Of the living? If so, and if you
Have recently descended from the sweet air above,
Tell me, is Northern Ireland at war or at peace?
For I was once curate at Cullion,
Near the village of Desertmartin.’
I was still leaning forwards, trying to tune in
To his wavelength, when Berrigan touched me
On the shoulder and said to me:
‘You speak to him. He is of your land.’
And I, who was unprepared for my speech,
Leant further still towards the burning flame,
And said: ‘Spirit, flickering below in the pit
Of flames, the land of which you speak is not,
And never was, without war in the hearts
Of its zealots and paramilitaries,
But since the Good Friday Agreement
The guns have quietened down,
There is no open conflict as I speak.
Yet in much the situation has not changed.
Rogue IRA units still assassinate
Catholics in the RUC and plant car bombs,
And only recently the Queen’s visit
Was threatened by a bigot in a balaclava
At the 1916 Memorial
At Cregan cemetery in Londonderry.
And every year on the twelfth of July
The battle lines are drawn up fresh.
Today the city on the Lagan lies as ever
Between tyranny and freedom,
As it lies between the mountain and the sea.
And now I ask you to tell me who you are,
And to speak as freely as I’ve spoken to you,
So may your name on earth keep its flame burning.’
It flickered a while
Shifting the sharp point to and fro
And then blew out these words:
‘If I thought for a moment I was talking to
A fellow who might return to the world
This flame would shake no more;
But if what I’ve heard is true, nobody
Has ever returned alive from this depth,
So without fear of infamy I answer thee.
I was a Republican and a priest,
Believing that the dog collar was the perfect
Cover for my misdemeanours:
And, to be sure, I was right enough,
Till that interfering High Priest showed up,
May his soul be damned!
Let me tell you exactly what happened.
While I still wore the bones and the flesh that
My mother gave me, my deeds were not those
Of the lion, but of the fox.
I was a dab hand at the fundraiser,
Bingo, dances, gymkhana, you name it,
I even set up a wee radio link now and then
So those who weren’t there could still be part of it.
When the event was over, I’d tip off the boys,
And they’d make off with a fair share of the loot.
We were robbed so many times at these events,
That rumours began to circulate,
People started to say things, but
There was nothing anyone could prove.
Nonetheless, I thought the time had come,
As it comes for every man, to tighten
The rigs and pull down the sails, but little
Did I know what lay round the corner.
It was then I was approached by the High Priest.
The ceasefire had broken down, and he wanted
Something to take the heat off the fighting in Derry,
The dog collar I wore was of no concern.
As Constantine once sent for Sylvester
To cure his leprosy, so this one implored me.
“What do you want from me?” I asked him,
Looking him in the eye. He shifted in his seat
A little, then said: “We need someone to
Deliver a few packages to Claudy.”
I knew what he meant, straight away, and I
Gave him a look as if to say you must be mad.
Then he spoke again, saying: “The cause is good.
The Lord will forgive you. Afterwards, we
Can find a parish for you in the Republic.”
Eventually, when his arguments had
Pushed me to the point where silence seemed
No longer to be an option, I said: “I’ll do it,
But I don’t want any dead.”
It was around ten o’clock that we planted
The bombs, the place was busy with shoppers.
When we’d made our getaway, we stopped in
Feeny to make a call, but the phone box
Was out of order. We went on to Dungiven
And tried again in the shops, but it was
The same story, all the phones were out
Following an attack at the exchange.
The men told the shop assistants to warn
The police, but by now it was too late.
The bombs exploded, causing total carnage,
Leaving nine dead, Protestants and Catholics alike.
It was a day that haunted me for as long
As I lived, there was no peace for me after that,
Even across the border this horrible
Affair hung over me like a black cloud.
When the time came for me to meet my maker
I made confession to Father Liam,
I wanted to go to the grave with a clear conscience.
I was hoping to go to the other place
But the moment I died I was whisked down here,
Todd Landman greeted me with a knowing smile
And consigned me to this pit of flames forever.’
When his words had ended, the flame,
In sorrow, departed, writhing
And tossing its sharp horn.
We passed on, Berrigan and I,
Making tracks for Zone 8, Area I,
Where the bridge crosses the pit in which those
Who have sown discord pay Hell’s tariff.