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)

Sunday, May 27, 2018

Prayer at a soldier’s grave

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Lord, You created this young man to do Your will wherever righteous   politicians may send him; to loose his bullets into other ...
Thursday, May 24, 2018

The Havoc of Climate Change Already Here

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Leaving the climatic effects of global warming to one side, the geopolitical ramifications are truly scary.  Take a short while to liste...
Saturday, May 19, 2018

A life alone

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No one lives with the moon, no one could; the moon is beautiful, too beautiful; a sentence to loneliness. Night after n...
Monday, May 14, 2018

A View Upward

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Two swallows, pencil points on the ends of mathematical compasses, wheeling in a smoky blue sky, took me with them; a sort of freedo...
Sunday, May 13, 2018

Napalm.

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                          (a poem about distance)             Nice to feel the sun on your back,             cool yourself down ...
Monday, May 7, 2018

On Murvagh Beach

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There’s so little difference between sea and cloud that the whole scene might as well be upside down, with the bisectors of St J...
Saturday, May 5, 2018

Riverrun

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Riverrun over the land: slivered sky and light, spindly bodies flowing, fish and ripples one, alive. Clamouring in the h...
Saturday, April 28, 2018

Transept.

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Transept. Transept. Transsssssssssssept. A word like a vision, s slipping over the lips like water over a weir. Transept...

Elemental

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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 ...
Monday, April 23, 2018

Above Ground Below Ground

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Above ground my limbs fan out, carrying spoons to fill with light. You tear them up. Below ground, my roots fan out, d...
Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Where grey is the most beautiful colour: Inis MeƔin

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Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Piper's Music

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The piper is a mythological entity, so, free from shackles, his significance is unlimited. Now the piper plays the notes of earth: the...
Friday, April 13, 2018

photograph

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I find you among the strewn things in the attic and pull you clear. You all but demanded to be lifted but then go mute. I drop you...
Sunday, April 8, 2018

Smoke

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In the bar in which they used to meet, I see him, in what was their place; eyes fixed on the floor-boards before him, cigarette sm...

At One End Of A Bench.

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At one end of a bench an old man wearing Winter clothes regards the fountains and Summer through melt-water irises. This m...
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