-
Recently Browsing 0 members
No registered users viewing this page.
-
Similar Content
-
By Pingo
This is Just to Say
I have painted
the gnolls
that were in
the side bin
and which
you were probably
saving
for Gen Con
Forgive me
they were so vicious
full armed
and so cute
-
By AnneO'Leary
This poem was written in honour of those Irish who have had to emigrate during our current economic crises. Things are so difficult that six Irish people leave for every minute that passes. It is about the pain of leaving and finding oneself in a foreign country, not their own.
On Going Home And Taking Leave
Trailing into myth
her past flows,
screaming through my veins.
And I like a lover
longing, replete return
to her embrace.
To walk again
the shattered path
of History, torn, stained
by boots on bloodied ground.
She, from who's womb emerged
giants, men of letters, poetry, song,
whose names I taste with my tongue,
Yeats, Shaw, Wilde, Bacon,
Lewis, Stoker, Heaney, Milligan,
Russell, Moore, Smith
and one above the rest
*Ua Laoghaire, Peadar I can't forget.
She is shackled still
yet not United with,
a Kingdom, not her own.
The blood of my blood,
the bone of my bone,
lie North seperated
by lines arbitrary.
And I howl with need
to know
my kin, my kindred, my own.
Now taking wing,
I leave her
supine, lying in
a Sea of her own Name.
But she dances
still in the mind of my eye
while I wander
Lonely, souless, bereft,
in another country,
not my Own.
*Peadar Ua Laoghaire (Father Peter O'Leary), the founder of modern Irish literture.
From 2011 through April of 2014 300,00 Irish emigrated due to economic hardship
In 2011 60,000 Irish emigrated due to economic hardshp.
In 1989 44,000 Irish emigrated due to economic hardship.
From 1950-1960 500,000 Irish emigrated due to economic hardship.
In 1847 1,000,000 Irish emigrated to America due to famine.
From 1847-1851 400,000 Irish emigrated to England due to famine.
This is but a fraction of the Irish diaspora.
-
By AnneO'Leary
This poem is dedicated to my husband. It is a reflection of the time we spent alone together before the birth of our daughter whose name is Jazz.
Sepia memories edgewise slip
past days piled high
like laundry into years.
Before Jazz, you,
with your Flamingo* smile
proposed a marriage consummate with myth
and nodding mounted my assent.
In days early
whilst sleeping late,
time in limbo waited
among a detritus of desire,
entangled we lay
Your tongue cuneiform traced
against sibilant skin
and with patterns cunning
wove a life.
With reptilian need,
we clutched finger tips
callused from too much play
spending ourselves in time.
*Flamingo's mate for life.
-
By AnneO'Leary
RABBIT
I cross this desert snow, leaving
prints of puddled light; my passing
only a whisper
soft
as between lovers.
A ring of trees stand,
naked
in supplication to a moon, pregnant
swollen with night.
As if conjured, you appear from a place
of howling need;
Did I invent you?
Memorized, your form; perfection
perched, soul parched, like water
I drink you.
The pulse-beat at your throat, its
vibration confounds my senses.
Separated
by more than distance, by essence, by
meaning;
I feel you.
You are my predator, I your prey,
your meat.
Time blinks, a pause, a spread of
wings, the raptor ascends.
Sanity misplaced.
A symphony of pain, a crushing of bone,
tearing of sinew;
exquisite agony,
savage ache.
Blood kisses the ground,
a virgin flower
blossoms red against a sheet of white
Flesh into flesh, eternities end
At last
as one.
-
-
-
Who's Online 9 Members, 2 Anonymous, 30 Guests (See full list)