Showing posts with label Sunfire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sunfire. Show all posts
Monday, July 16, 2018

Visiting the Corsetmaker

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 It was ireland in the sixties. Corset conversation veered very close to immodesty. Michael O'Hehir was the voice of Sunday afternoon...
Thursday, April 25, 2013

Breathing

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Now my father's life is breathing. Heavy work.   He has already slipped away to be alone while we outside mark every br...
Friday, September 7, 2012

Explaining Our Madness

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A friend, contemplating the various madnesses of humanity during the week, mentioned the irony of governments paying people to save lives an...
Thursday, June 21, 2012

Country Childhood

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There is no doubt that my Roscommon childhood has been idealised in this poem, but yet, I honestly believe that I had a very privileged upbr...
Sunday, February 26, 2012

Marine.

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Prostrate on the beach, a slop of sea pulse, a glob black as chewed tobacco fallen from the lip. My mother said - the sea is sick, it's ...
Saturday, June 4, 2011

The Dog

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A dog built around his snarling teeth demonstrates human instincts when I cross his ground. Glass stare, no, spikes from his face, his cr...
Friday, May 13, 2011

The Happiest Days

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The happiest days were the days before worries or responsibilities, before time was important; summer afternoons at home in Roscommon, child...
Sunday, May 1, 2011

In Mayo

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Some places remain in your head all your life. Not intact, but fragments that still convey (broadly) the appearance of the place. So you ret...
Sunday, April 3, 2011

Mother Liked This Poem

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To begin with, my mother was more than a little apprehensive of my writing poems. She dreaded finding herself published inside one of them. ...
Monday, November 29, 2010

Strange how the world turns

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Strange how the world turns. Empty houses dotted the countryside in the twentieth century. Emigration hollowed out rural Ireland right up to...
Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Poems to do with Lovers, Loving and Loving no More

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People change, time moves them along,their loves change like trees, like fires, like buildings.Most keep the narratives in their heads or po...
Monday, March 22, 2010

The Truth

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As much and all as we admire the truth, sometimes we must keep it tethered and locked away. Sometimes it’s just too fearsome a beast.When Ho...
1 comment:
Sunday, January 31, 2010

The Empty Countryside

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This poem from Sunfire is based on rural Ireland of the eighties,when the country was dotted with houses beginning to decay as they became p...
Tuesday, December 22, 2009

A Memory of Ireland Past

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Since Christmas brings us back to family,loved ones and our memories of those who are gone, I thought I'd post this memory. It was anoth...
Thursday, August 13, 2009

Ownership of Your Work

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I have been wondering what degree of control poets (writers) will have on the use of their work on the internet under the Google Book Settle...
Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Ruins

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There is a particular atmosphere that pervades the ruins of cottages throughout rural Ireland. I think it has to do with their former humble...
Friday, June 5, 2009

Over-reach youself

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At the moment I can’t just decide to send poems to publishers and that’s been the way, give or take, for three or four years. Well no, I do ...
2 comments:
Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The Missing Link

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Ida, the 47 million year old fossil primate found in Germany,is being put forward as the missing link, what with fingernails and all. And as...
Monday, May 11, 2009

Poem Beside Your Hospital Bed

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My father is dead many years now. He came back from a holiday in the U.S. on a stretcher. When I saw him in the hospital that first time, I ...
Sunday, November 9, 2008

I Give You

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I wrote "I Give You" a number of years ago.It is part a series of love poems I had plans to dramatize under the title "Under ...
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