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)

Tuesday, August 31, 2021

Megaliths

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  In the pitch blackness of stone, keeping their minds cool, we store their thoughts while the millennia skid by. Boulders, like badges...
Sunday, August 29, 2021

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  I cannot tell the difference between fire and ice nor love and hate when you are the subject; All is passion, life a storm, and in th...
Friday, August 27, 2021

Once was a day

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  I watched her cross the stripes: light grey loose sand, dark grey wet sand, to the sea, blue stripe, shifting like a river, dragging...
Saturday, August 21, 2021

Fall in love with lonely

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 "fall in love with lonely" from Bruce Springsteen's 'Hello Sunshine' stuck in my head. There's a wistfulness to t...
Thursday, August 19, 2021

A political failure

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  Words fly, they are air. ...
Wednesday, August 18, 2021

Humanitarian Support for Afghan Citizens

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  The spread of covid from one individual in China to the entire world has illustrated that the planet is now just one large neighbourhood. ...
Sunday, August 15, 2021

St Brigid's Well, Liscannor

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  I walk along the subterranean passage to St Brigid’s well; it is jammed with pictures of the Sacred Heart, Virgin Mary; statuettes of J...
Thursday, August 12, 2021

Beyond the barren trees

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  Beyond the barren trees, at the place silenced in snow, the ruins of our love still stands. A gable just, and the tracery of ...
Sunday, August 8, 2021

Court Tomb

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  When their bodies had started into stone, we lay them among the boulders that had grazed the hillside, in a nest for early sunlight,...
Sunday, August 1, 2021

Spiralling Down

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  First I saw bricks give way. then the bricks and mortar collapsing down, a chaos in which I unexpectedly saw beauty, a stampede of p...
Thursday, July 29, 2021

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  Love made arcs of us, and as water dreams of droplets, we dreamed of perfection and might have made it, but the curvature of our ar...
Sunday, July 25, 2021

Clean Technology

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  How vicious those butchers with bloody hands! Our deaths delivered clean as hovering. How wonderfully civilised!
Thursday, July 22, 2021

Pike

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  Pike resides in Gothic gloom among the ever-descending piers in dense silence. Is the shadow of a ripple. A Christian life, sh...
Sunday, July 18, 2021

The White Square

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  The white square; that dense emptiness; the pressure it exerts. I point out that there is nothing there, that you are struggling w...
Friday, July 16, 2021

A Time

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 Didn’t our lives come together? Once.  Wasn’t there a time that was ours;  the two of us?  Isn’t that so, wasn’t there? A time, once?
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