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, March 31, 2024

Marble

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  Michelangelo might have carved the wrinkles on his forehead, veins on the backs of his hands, the fingers slender in death, knuckles, f...
Thursday, March 28, 2024

Days, Pages, Happiness

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  What you’ve never grasped is your days are flying loose, pages in the wind, and you busy about filling them, never catching them. Hap...
Sunday, March 24, 2024

History Lesson

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  All of that twentieth century history went in, piled up; from childhood, it stacked: the cold war, Bay of Pigs, coup d’etats, dictato...
Thursday, March 21, 2024

Bloodbath

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Trump's recent 'bloodbath' comment continues his pattern of being incendiary. This (not so delicately embedded in his speech-mak...
Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Jam

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  Plump juicy blackberries: that’s where the Summer went. Rosy-cheeked apples, damsons: -- energy neither created nor destroy...
Monday, March 11, 2024

Your Young Beauty

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  Young beauty s ettled on your face, extended its wings a moment, then flew. The skin over your bones slackened, took the shap...
Friday, March 8, 2024

Behind the Glass

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This poem has been with me for years in one shape or another. I've posted more than one effort in the  past, but was never convinced. Al...
Tuesday, February 27, 2024

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  This needle, my mind balancing on it; its mercury glint a painful ecstasy.

She fires words

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  She fires words spiky as hail; I shoot them down; they’re unwelcome in my heaven. But the same words go off over and over; ...
Sunday, February 25, 2024

Now, Then and Forever

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  When their bodies are cold and stony, we lay them among the boulders on the hillside, a resting place within sight of their homes, ...
Tuesday, February 20, 2024

September Swallows

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  Knots on the wires untying themselves,. rise into the sky like crochets escaping staves. September swallows, restless, must s...
Sunday, February 18, 2024

His last tune

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 I've tried to get this right before, my father on his hospital bed after suffering a stroke. A moment that has stayed with me, poignant...
Thursday, February 15, 2024

Cirrus

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  Cirrus, dolphins of high heavens, sing light harvested from deepest sky-ridges.
Sunday, February 11, 2024

ikeanisation of office spac

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  folded in a roll above shoulders the cape with fabric loops to hang light-weight plastic stool down human back over fold-up...
Friday, February 9, 2024

After Hiroshige

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  A peacock on a branch, waterfall.                       Along the Tokaido road                       a wave,                       lan...
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