This charming poem was left on our comments section and I felt it deserved its own post.
Wonderful!
Alias Bang Bang (Thomas Dudley) a true Dublin character 17th March 2014
In 1906 a new babe was born
Into troublesome days his life was forlorn
He was born into poverty, suppressed by his life
Overladen by nothing but trouble and strife
At an early age with his young days ahead
There’d be no family life just an orphanage instead
And the days rolled on for this unfortunate soul
And they followed his path until he grew old
And onto the streets as an adult he went
His faith in this world was far gone and spent
So into the Mero to his dream world he’d go
To visit his heroes on the films they’d show
And it brought him some comfort from what he had seen
Imitating those cowboys that he had seen on the screen
So he got a long key that he used as his gun
And he slapped his backside to keep his horse on the run
And his mind took him back to the old western days
And he shot up all Dublin with his bang banging ways
And in time he became well known to us all
And at times when he shot us we pretended to fall
And for years we enjoyed his enigmatic ways
As he shouted out bang bang, back in those days
And the folklore he transmitted, is with us all still
Even though he’s not buried where he dreamed on Boothill
by Tony Gorman
This is a great poem by Tony Gorman.
It brings the true character of bang bang back to those that knew him.
My mother used to tell me of all the ones that were in Dublin in the past when she was growing up and bang bang was one of them.
We bought one of Tonys books and found that like bang bang’s poem they are all well worth reading.
I’m sure that if bang bang is looking down he will be very pleased with himself for leaving such an impact for his time on this earth.
Well done Bang bang
Norma Hills
Agh I remember him well as I used to sit in the window above my Grandad’s shop (Currys) which was on the corner of Hanbury Lane and Meath St., and watch Bang Bang play out his role as the cowboy.
I remember him coming into the Clock where I was having a drink with my Mother and handed him a medel and a small bottle of holy water which I had brought back from Lourdes as I was in the travel industry at the time and chartering to there. He cried openly as if I had handed him the winnings from the Lotto.
What a man, harmless in every way. A walking saint of Dublin, just having fun.