Sunday, September 29, 2019

Life, trains you choose

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Life, trains you choose: hop on, hop off, forget to; and still no matter how many you take, you’re only ever in one carriage, ...

Berry Picking

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On a windy day I could hear the conversations speeding through the phone wires: Roscommon to Dublin, Roscommon to Galway, the Dublin...
Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Peninsula

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A peninsula: shingle, cockle and barnacle shells, strips of desiccated wrack, greened with sea-holly. The wooden cabin, though frequentl...
Saturday, September 21, 2019

Inheriting The Land.

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  Emigration seems to be a never-ending feature of Irish life. This poem  is rooted in the Ireland of my childhood.  The boat then had the...

Biblical Truth

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Don’t look to a rich man to loosen anyone’s chains; wealth has seldom been amassed with empathy for the impoverished. Crumbs from ...
Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Plenty Jazz No Poetry

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All the words  rushing, propelling themselves, toppling over each other like water through a sluice, conveying no meaning beyo...

Where What

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I am in a place I don’t recognize. Alone. There is a country that has left me. I don’t have a compass. And if I did I do not b...
Thursday, September 12, 2019

Heartlands Writers Event Cancelled

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Unfortunately ‘The Heartlands Writers’ event due to take place this Saturday, 14 th Sept, has had to be cancelled.   I am hopeful that ...
Sunday, September 8, 2019

Reminder: Workshops and Readings in Roscommon

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HEARTLANDS WRITERS with JANE CLARKE, BRIAN LEYDEN and MICHAEL O’ DEA A celebration of writers from the Hidden Heartlands wit...
Saturday, September 7, 2019

Me Today

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My brain is on a pole approximately 80cm from my head; there’s a dull ache in its place, and my thoughts are crossing the gap     ...
Sunday, September 1, 2019

Passing

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Dusty light falling through the trees, their apple-laden branches, settling on the tall grass, thriving nettles, is sealing the orc...
Wednesday, August 28, 2019

We pray for the monks on High Island

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High island pitching tossing, appearing disappearing, in the dragon waves angered, now awake, risen from their silent deep. I saw it...
Monday, August 26, 2019

Search

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I am here, I remind myself slightly drunken. I am; but I am not the same I am. I look inside this evening to find the change; I lo...
Saturday, August 24, 2019

Reading AT The Edge

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Reading AT The Edge  this Tuesday, 27th August, in the Johnston Library, Cavan will be poets: Jessamine O’Connor from Roscommon, Glen Wilso...
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Tuesday, August 20, 2019

The Cursing Stones

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There were eight stones on the altar near the lake, moss-covered and sitting in depressions like fossil eggs. All around the grass w...