Friday, September 29, 2017

I saw my brother

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One day, after I was dead, I saw my brother. He was talking to a neighbour over the wall; I called out to him, but he didn’t hear; ...
Wednesday, September 27, 2017

A Poem: An Image

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Image© Matthew Gammon Roscommon County Council are hosting an exhibition entitled, 'A Poem: An Image',  in the Civic...
Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Escalation 2017

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You’re mad. You’re nuts. You’re mad. You’re nuts. That’s it, I’m going to kill you and everyone who knows you. You can’t, cos...
Thursday, September 21, 2017

The Light of Innocence

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The lake: shape of a dress thrown haphazardly onto the ground. One  evening late, all the people of the village came to divest  thems...
Sunday, September 17, 2017

Memory of my Father

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I have a memory of my father sitting on a log in the shed, reading the Sunday Independent between the lawnmower and the garden tool...
Monday, September 11, 2017

Brown Eyes

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She had deep brown eyes; I believe trout swam in their depths. And I often spent an hour sitting there with my feet disturbing th...
Thursday, September 7, 2017

3 photographs

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This little scene in the grounds of a holy well caught my attention.You can almost hear her exclamation, "Holy God!" And, what...
Sunday, September 3, 2017

Green into Grey (full)

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Green into Grey When the clouds Fell onto the hill with the trees, And they were sinking, Sinking; I thought of you. Th...
Saturday, September 2, 2017

Green into Grey

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When the clouds Fell onto the hill with the trees And they were sinking, Sinking, I thought of you.
Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Trees

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Trees keening winter nights away, their wails woven into the wind; heads of hair like seaweed taken from the strand, flails knotted in ...
Friday, August 25, 2017

Don’t say too much

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or you’ll give it away. Peter Doig’s paintings are poetic; magical, mysterious, beautiful and different. Canoes and boats featu...
Tuesday, August 22, 2017

I am weave

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I am weave, flows bare bones of the land, roots, blood my stealth; streams mountain hair, hillsides’ ruminations, meadow f...
Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Writer’s block

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Nothing lands on this plain; nothing moves but its seeping emptiness. Goggled pilot high above this snow-gagged wilderness,...
Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Swallows performed by Garonne

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Elaine O'Dea's song Swallows performed by Elaine and Elisabeth, together Garonne.
Saturday, August 5, 2017

The Trees at the Rath*

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Trees keening winter nights away, their wails woven into the wind; heads of hair like seaweed taken from the strand, flails kno...