Saturday, November 22, 2025

Donegal Changes

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 Six years now in Donegal, six years retired from my teaching job in Dublin; there are defnite changes in my writing. Perhaps it's no su...
Friday, November 21, 2025

New Draft of "September Swallows"

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  September Swallows September, swallows suddenly in a frenzy as though too long furled, their true selves must out; fly...
Friday, November 14, 2025

The Romantic Heart

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  The enamel white moon made a ladle on the water; Li Po, a tick full of wine with a romantic heart, rowed his boat up the long handle ...
Monday, November 10, 2025

An Updated Draft of an Unforgettable Moment

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  Sing Love A memory from my father's last days On his deathbed, when speech was gone, we deciphered incoherence and muddled on. ...
Thursday, November 6, 2025

Passing Time

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  When I was a child, time stretched beyond sight, out over the curve of the earth; Summer days deliciously slow, mid-afternoon stalle...
Monday, November 3, 2025

At the military cemetery

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  At the military cemetry, I am struck by the myriad patterns of the crosses; marvelling at the precision over and over as I walk into...
Sunday, October 26, 2025

City Voice

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  A powdering harangue  ‒ the city's voice over unkempt pavements. The footfall at 5.30, the lighting up apartments; desperat...
Tuesday, October 14, 2025

A Poem on the Pointlessness of War

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  Perspective Lately, I’ve been seeing January migrations of geese in the powder blue sky above Dublin. Those ever-shifting arrows sig...
Wednesday, October 8, 2025

Dancing in the Early Hours

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  Dancing in the early hours to Leonard Cohen’s oak-aged voice swaying drunkenly to his words, arms slack as streams of poured wine, ...
Friday, October 3, 2025

The Experience of Transcendentalism

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  A Transparent Eyeball “I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through ...
Wednesday, October 1, 2025

Last Words

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  Last Words at my mother's bedside Her l ife fray ed t o the last strand; b reathing: difficult, tenuous; and I searching for t...
Wednesday, September 24, 2025

How the Irish became the most knowledgeable race on earth

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   The Salmon in the Spring, the Hazel and the Hermit Into an open gob the hazelnuts fell, so that over the years the salmon grew into a col...
Tuesday, September 23, 2025

Karst Man

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  When I tell you, the man who lives on those hills is made of the same karst he stands on, that butts through the thin cover of his f...
Wednesday, September 17, 2025

It was the snow

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  that brought me back, its peace and space; refinding myself in its absence of clutter. With each new fall more deeply ...
Tuesday, September 16, 2025

A Book from Stone

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  Well, not really. But sometimes it feels that way. I keep the blog to amass poems. Publishing online keeps me at it; knowing that there ar...