Thursday, July 31, 2014

Inheriting the land

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The sadness of emigration is particularly marked at this time of year. An air of  emptiness settles on old country farmhouses; they stand un...
Tuesday, July 29, 2014

What the artist wishes

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1. At each beginning, that same challenge:   to crack perfection; a kidney stone that aches in the pit of your brain.   ...

Roscommon Writing Award

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  Gerry Boland has emailed me with news of The NEW ROSCOMMON WRITING AWARD 2014 which will be awarded for works in English, on any t...
Monday, July 21, 2014

Poetry Workshop at the Boyle Arts Festival

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I'm looking forward to giving a poetry workshop this Saturday at 2.30pm in the Boyle Enterprise Centre and admission is a paltry €5. It...
Sunday, July 20, 2014

Images from Clare

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We were in Miltown Malbay for the Willie Clancy. In the afternoons, we went walking. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera, but I did ha...
Wednesday, July 16, 2014

In The Home

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  Sitting by her bed, among those sobbing, groaning women, in a room claustrophobic with impending death, her spirit shrivelled ...
Friday, July 11, 2014

Messi Teleportation

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It appears to be the case that Lionel Messi can teleport, but it's not quite instantaneous; in fact it takes 3 seconds. This ability h...
1 comment:
Monday, July 7, 2014

for madmen

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      How enormous are we! How far our reach!  How endless our creativity! (Sometimes it comes as a surprise that the great are st...
3 comments:
Monday, June 30, 2014

The Rain Was Falling.

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Standing at the kitchen door, trying to pick out individual droplets landing like tiny footfalls on the concrete.   How slight  ...
1 comment:
Thursday, June 26, 2014

Civilisation

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    At half six I turn on the news to see how the war is going.   Tracers are arcing down into the city; the reporter keeps...
Sunday, June 22, 2014

Evening

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  Evening light dozed on his unwashed dishes; years' old dust collected behind hanging china plates; the Sacred Heart loo...
Monday, June 16, 2014

The effectiveness of simple

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Picking up on the word 'simple' in the first line, the poem remains simple, and is  supremely effective for that.    Suicide in ...
Friday, June 13, 2014

Spring

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i Bleached, bone-dry, wind-scalded wood;   my spindled torso weathered clean,   my curlicued roots   clamped i...
Monday, June 9, 2014

A carrier bag

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A carrier bag, caught in a sycamore tree, heaved and pulled, strained itself skinny, thrashed to escape. Its mouth, a terrorized rip, wa...
Thursday, June 5, 2014

How to say I love you

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A red, red rose by Robbie Burns O my Luve's like a red, red rose   That’s newly sprung in June;   O my Luve's like the ...
1 comment: