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Poem of the Week
Poem of the Week | Two Poems by Maeve McKenna
Social Boats, Sinking By Maeve McKenna I am screened, polished, mimicked by dumb mouths in artificial mirrors, talking back. The scent of my body, its pungent genetics, lingers on thin bandages of light peeling free …
Poem of the Week | The Abolition of What’s Next by Kevin Higgins
The Abolition of What's Next By Kevin Higgins It is ten to whenever and must remain so. The living room door will remain ajar at exactly that angle. The cat will forever have just opened its eyes having heard something…
Poem of the Week | Two Poems by Clare Mulvany
Bioluminescence By Clare Mulvany The waves of West Cork are dancing with light. They hide under the canopy of darkness, growing in their secret. In this lake: liquid lore. In these waters: tincture of stars. We wait until…
Poem of the Week | Dancing with Lyme by Cathy Donelan
Dancing with Lyme By Cathy Donelan It took the life out of me. Cold sweats with a shiver of something new – a ‘ningle’, if that’s even a word. It doesn’t sit right on the flat of my tongue but I can feel it in my stomach. They…
Poem of the Week | Three Irish Mothers of the 1950s by Amy Egan
Three Irish Mothers of the 1950s By Amy Egan Sometimes I think about the moment my grandmother, married late and unexpectant, told Grandad, grower of trees but indifferent to fruit, (he’d upped, then rooted deep for love, content to…
Poem of the Week | Regalement by Aoife Finnegan
Regalement By Aoife Finnegan New plant in the sunroom, small bird floating outside the kitchen window. I was there that night- wasn’t I? Many nights (I was there), many moons ago. New mark on my face, where there wasn’t one…
Poem of the Week | Recipe by Steve Cullen
Recipe By Steve Cullen Break 4 metaphors into a green enamelware bowl and mix vigorously with the tarnished fork that lies with the spoons in the cutlery drawer. Add symbolism, and the zest of a childhood memory. Drop a knob of irony…
Poem of the Week | Fool’s Paradise by Jorge Leiva
Fool’s Paradise By Jorge Leiva Bring me back to the dry land, the olea trees and the heat, white grapes under feet, men with skins getting tanned. Bring me back to the dim light, bodegas where wine matures. No better sight.…
Poem of the Week | Some Morning by Mary Lee
Some Morning when you wake take time to be intentional. In a leap of faith, you sow seedlings or whisper wisdom, you’ll never know its ending. While you prepare a mug of coffee, or plan a conference, choose to spread…
Poem of the Week | Cork City 1994 by Denis Mockler
Cork City 1994 By Denis Mockler He gushed I love you I thought You don’t even know me, but keep doing what you’re doing. Please don’t stop now. Afterwards we sat by the window of his bedroom, drinking coffee and smoking…