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)

Saturday, September 29, 2018

Once by the Sea

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Once I sat by the sea around midnight with too much drink in my gut, watching the play of tide and moonlight crash into a crescent...
Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Slow-Moving Clouds

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Slow moving clouds never ran away with love, but left lovers dreaming in their wake. The sky is where the hearts of lovers roam, s...
Saturday, September 22, 2018

The baby in the tree

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It's surprising where ideas come from. There  was a white carrier bag snagged high in a tree on Leinster Road.          The ba...
Monday, September 17, 2018

The “Incredible Unsung Success”

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Success was assured with the billions of dollars I collected from my legions of followers. And knowing there’d be tremendous a...
Friday, September 14, 2018

When you pass

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written with Karen McManus in mind. When you pass, cups miss mouths, ladders slip, buckets crash down, cars veer, cyclist...
Monday, September 10, 2018

In that love

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Love made us lighter than air; we careered, wheeled and banked above the town. Curved like quarter moons, we fitted into each ot...
Friday, September 7, 2018

Jimi

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These jets Thrill, the notes Sear. Arc of teeth Bite my ears, bleach the Sickles Senseless.
Sunday, September 2, 2018

Dum te dum te dum

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In glorious Technicolor, breathtaking Cinemascope, magnificent dum te dum te dum te dum stereophonic surround sound, Michael...
Saturday, September 1, 2018

Failing Light

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In the failing light of a November evening, kicking through the rotting leaves on a suburban path, I remember you, digging the gar...
Sunday, August 26, 2018

Fail

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My voice into the nowhere Tailed off; It almost reversed. I looked there; my nerve failed, so I left. That darkness Ha...
Thursday, August 23, 2018

The Broken Bells of St Mary's

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Saint Mary's church, Lubeck, Palm Sunday 1942. The bells of the Marienkirche, still lying where they fell ...
Tuesday, August 21, 2018

The River Took Me

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Once, in a sodden, flaggered field beside the river, the current took me; not a canoe but a trout, a water’s flint smoothed by...
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Thursday, August 16, 2018

Goddess of Winter, Cailleach

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I am weave, flows bare bones of the land, roots blood my stealth; streams mountain hair, hillsides’ ruminations, meadow fant...
Sunday, August 12, 2018

Her Leaving

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Film strip, a train’s windows. Outside mine, parents are straining for a last glimpse. Embarrassed, she stares ahead. The tr...
Monday, August 6, 2018

I can’t fit you into my scheme of things,

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nor you me, now that we’ve finally become ourselves. I turn on you sharper than a scalpel, choose words shaped to torture. Out from b...
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