Thursday, December 11, 2025

Her Hair

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  Her Hair   Her hair fell, entwined tresses down the length of her back, down past her knees. Morning sunlight fou...
Wednesday, December 3, 2025

Beneath Our Feet

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  Lives: we think of people. Life: we think of the distinction b etween organisms and inorganic substance . I walk the beach; it’s l...
Monday, December 1, 2025

More Revision

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Today Can you spin a cloud onto a stick; collect sequins of sunlight from a river; walk the moon’s pathway over the sea? There are times whe...
Saturday, November 22, 2025

Donegal Changes

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 Six years now in Donegal, six years retired from my teaching job in Dublin; there are defnite changes in my writing. Perhaps it's no su...
Friday, November 21, 2025

New Draft of "September Swallows"

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  September Swallows September, swallows suddenly in a frenzy as though too long furled, their true selves must out; fly...
Friday, November 14, 2025

The Romantic Heart

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  The enamel white moon made a ladle on the water; Li Po, a tick full of wine with a romantic heart, rowed his boat up the long handle ...
Monday, November 10, 2025

An Updated Draft of an Unforgettable Moment

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  Sing Love A memory from my father's last days On his deathbed, when speech was gone, we deciphered incoherence and muddled on. ...
Thursday, November 6, 2025

Passing Time

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  When I was a child, time stretched beyond sight, out over the curve of the earth; Summer days deliciously slow, mid-afternoon stalle...
Monday, November 3, 2025

At the military cemetery

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  At the military cemetry, I am struck by the myriad patterns of the crosses; marvelling at the precision over and over as I walk into...
Sunday, October 26, 2025

City Voice

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  A powdering harangue  ‒ the city's voice over unkempt pavements. The footfall at 5.30, the lighting up apartments; desperat...
Tuesday, October 14, 2025

A Poem on the Pointlessness of War

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  Perspective Lately, I’ve been seeing January migrations of geese in the powder blue sky above Dublin. Those ever-shifting arrows sig...
Wednesday, October 8, 2025

Dancing in the Early Hours

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  Dancing in the early hours to Leonard Cohen’s oak-aged voice swaying drunkenly to his words, arms slack as streams of poured wine, ...
Friday, October 3, 2025

The Experience of Transcendentalism

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  A Transparent Eyeball “I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through ...
Wednesday, October 1, 2025

Last Words

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  Last Words at my mother's bedside Her l ife fray ed t o the last strand; b reathing: difficult, tenuous; and I searching for t...
Wednesday, September 24, 2025

How the Irish became the most knowledgeable race on earth

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   The Salmon in the Spring, the Hazel and the Hermit Into an open gob the hazelnuts fell, so that over the years the salmon grew into a col...