Poems

Hit Title Date Added
1.
Train To Derry
A crow beats on the updraft over a scragged hawthorn,
rocked but plunging on. A stick of Paras, bristling with nerves,
coughs and boots forward along the sheugh.
Long after the soldiers have gone, the crows will settle home.
...
2.
All Ireland Final
We stand for the anthem, buoyant and tribal, heart beating with heart,
our colours brave, our faces turned towards the uncertain sun.
The man beside me takes my hand: good luck to yours, he says;
...
3.
SKULL OF A CURLEW
Skull of a curlew full of stars,
my mouth on fire with black, unspeakable bees.
Light on the lime boles, bleached and bare,
my gorge rising, crammed with blackfurred bees.

Clay of the orchard on my cheek,
cheeks puffed like wind on a map's margin.
Dust in each lungful of cold air,
lips burned on the inside by black bees.

I wait for the moon to rise me
I pray to the midnight ant
I clutch at fistfuls of wet grass
I hammer the earth with bare heels.

Skull of a curlew full of stars,
night sky dredged with the eyes of bees.
Black fire around each star,
I swallow fear in mouthfuls of fur and wing.

Skull of a curlew full of stars,
the great hive of heaven heavy around me.
I spit out bees and black anger,
mouth of a curlew, fountain of quiet stars.
...
4.
The Match Down The Park
for Na Piarsaigh on their fiftieth anniversary
Tom Knott comes bulling out, his shoulder down
bringing weight to bear on the sliothar dropping
...
5.
Skull Of A Curlew
Skull of a curlew full of stars,
my mouth on fire with black, unspeakable bees.
Light on the lime boles, bleached and bare,
...
6.
Rosa Mundi
April, a day off school. Indulged, bored, hungry for something new.
The road bends below Driscoll's and I see her coming clear,
laden with shopping bags, eyes bright in the full flow of talk.
...
7.
A Charm On The Night Of Your Birthday
I light the sky above our bed for you
with seven stars of gold, ploughing
the deep for you - and that's not so hard
when you are the sea.
...
8.
The Second Fortune
Between what is and what is not
we walked, the Huntress loosed a shot.

Before and after, we were there -
...
9.
A Slow Poem
I place my finger with great care
on the sleeping magnificent body of my beloved.
The room is quiet and huge, the air still, so still
...
10.
TRAIN TO DERRY
A crow beats on the updraft over a scragged hawthorn,
rocked but plunging on. A stick of Paras, bristling with nerves,
coughs and boots forward along the sheugh.
Long after the soldiers have gone, the crows will settle home.

Since Newry, choppers have been battling back and forth
across the track. These trains are overheated, sweat
stings in my underslept eyes; I'd rather the crows' lift and pluck
than to be here, rocked to the quick, driving on Derry.

I often wish, my love, that we were birds, the wide domains
of Ireland at our turn and fall, the world's wind
our natural element - rain, ice, hail or sun our gods,
the tall pines our greenwhip lightning rods.

Tonight there's a horned moon and Venus trailing
low over the Waterside. Tonight let me fold you in my wings,
pray nobody's killed in dark of country or town. We'll settle
the long night in another of our beds, watch what the morning brings.
...

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4/22/2021 10:27:50 AM # 1.0.0.560