Poetry and Miscellaneous Yap.......... an Irish poet's blog

Poetry by Irish poet Michael O'Dea. (poems © Michael O’Dea, Dedalus Press, Amastra-n-Galar, Lapwing Publications)

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Mick O'Dea, the artist

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Mick O'Dea is perhaps best known for his portraits; his 2010 portrait of Brian Friel being a beautiful example of what he does so won...
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Tuesday, April 22, 2014

City Lives

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  City Lives. They shout into space, answer each other like whales across great haunted distances; they never meet, onl...
Thursday, April 17, 2014

A poem about something I can hardly explain

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This poem is about something I can hardly explain, our twenty-third year in this house, the laburnum, again, filling our bedroom ...
Saturday, April 12, 2014

New or Old Religion

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Old religion it may be, but worship of the goddess of the earth ensured that earth was not defiled. Ecology for pre-science days; the planet...
Wednesday, April 9, 2014

All the beautiful days

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"All the beautiful days,   all the beautiful days...."   And he died with all the beautiful days like a wishbone in h...
Sunday, April 6, 2014

Painting Skin

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Watching artist, Mick O’Dea, building up the layers of colour that are in skin was a revelation to me. Her skin is clear and white...
Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Tonight I Nearly Died

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Tonight I Nearly Died.   Tonight I nearly died in the Sunday chain returning to Dublin. A scythe arched onto the road. A...
Monday, March 31, 2014

Face

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A face in a window told me all I needed to know about age. The colourlessness, darkness, confinement.   A face that stared thro...
Friday, March 28, 2014

A Moment Certified By Lovers

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A Moment Certified By Lovers.   It's a certifiable moment a punch-drunk second a pulse's high tide.   A dog eats gra...
Monday, March 24, 2014

Three Scenes from a Midland Town

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Three Scenes from a Midland Town 1. Marty Regan’s shiny coffins are loitering along the out-house wall. Lukie Dyer, waiting outside...
Wednesday, March 19, 2014

A Primitive Death

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One eye a bog-hole, the other a slab, bleached blue of a childhood memory. I walked on water, sank in the marble, its thought eng...
Monday, March 17, 2014

Looking at You

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  How her face changes when she is sleeping. I have not seen that face before, where is she? Where do the zillions go in the sleeping ...
Sunday, March 9, 2014

Static State

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“Parents who never showed their love, complain of want of natural affection in their children; children who never showed their duty, com...
Saturday, March 1, 2014

More Distrust

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With the mask removed, his face was old, shrunken; too human; less than, almost.   We had forgotten, lost proportion, it came as ...
Sunday, February 23, 2014

10 reasons to visit Ireland

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Add to these, exhilarating music sessions, nightly, in pubs all around the country; the eminently manageable distances in travelling from ...
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