PIR, Cyphers, The Salmon, Krino, Force 10, The Stinging Fly, The SHOp, Incognito………..poets in particular seem to want to publish as well as be published. I myself instigated a short-lived magazine called Slants back in the early nineties. An enjoyable experience, but it takes stamina so stick with it year after year. Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin, current editor of PIR, is also one of the co-editors of one of Ireland’s longest running poetry magazines, Cyphers. Great credit is due to her for her service to Irish poetry. It would be interesting to read the list of established poets whose first poems appeared in publications she edited.
The variation in design, content and editorial approach makes each publication worth a look. I liked the rotation of editors that used to be the policy of PIR publishing, I also like the inclusion of poetry-related quotations and its well-written reviews. Whereas I would probably be happier to see PIR as an organ solely for championing Irish poets, both in publishing, and reviewing everything that is worthwhile coming out of this country, I always liked the inclusion of translations of foreign poets in Cyphers. The style and content of the SHOp is admirable as is The Stinging Fly. There are too many to talk about, but referring to those that are gone I must mention Force 10. I enjoyed the mix. There was no pretentiousness, it had the ingredient poetry needs more than any other: accessibility.
The first poem I had published in Cyphers s tays in my mind. I had not been into writing that long. I forgot all about this particular poem and when I saw it in print didn’t recognize it as one of mine. Only later did it come back to me. It is called Beyond the Twelfth Lock and is a scene that would be known to those who walk the Grand Canal on the stretch beyond Newcastle.
Beyond The Twelfth Lock.
All the world was in a pool by the canal;
All the Autumn,
All the Summer turned peacock
Gazing at itself
Quietly, still, face to the water.
Where I had seen the swans
Flaming in Spring,
Today I came on Summer, gold and beautiful,
About to die.
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