Poetry is something I’ve always had a deep love for. My uncle, Colm, is an extremely talented writer and has some of his works published in his first volume, What News, Centurions?. He is a definite inspiration to me. In college I did my dissertation on John Keats and studied W.B. Yeats extensively. However, study alone does not make a writer talented. You must practice the craft whenever you can and that’s what I plan to do here. Every Sunday I am going to post a poem or short story here. In reality I will post as much as I can. I love to write and this blog is the start of something bigger.
Please enjoy a few of my poems below 😊 Short stories will follow.
White wings spread wide like Pegasus,Long serpentine neck poised to attackThe Swan King of Naas welcomes all challengersAs they race by in fear of the mighty creature. His cygnets rest in the feathery embrace of his mate.Nobody would be foolish enough to try and steal a baby from the fearsome couple.“Jesus, Maria, just run past … Continue reading The Swan King of Naas
As soon as I turned onto the Cork road it began to rain.Not just little dropletsBut big, fat ones that spread out across the windshield,Blurring my vision and causing me to slow down. God forbid I go below 120 and stay safe on the road!Especially when His Heavens have opened so magnificently above me.I have … Continue reading On the Dublin to Cork road in heavy rain – Poem
“An chéad stáisiún eile, Nás agus Sallins.”After two long hours of trying to read and changing songs my senses are tingling.Only five minutes until I get to see your curls bouncing as you do that cute little half jog up the steps into my outstretched arms. Utterly adorable. The drive back is filled with hand … Continue reading Nás (Poem)
“Everybody feels fucking anxious.”Just something I say to myself a few times a week,Generalising the pressure rising inside of me like a kettle about to boil.Brushing off the insidious feeling of being alone despite being surrounded. Some days I feel like a coffee cup that’s too full in a speeding car on a bumpy road.Thrown … Continue reading Anxious
The spider in my old bedroom and I had an understanding That if I caught one of his friends downstairs or on the landing They were fair game for a rolled up newspaper or a tissue on the wall. Even though he and I never shared a squabble, Except for the time of the lynx … Continue reading My friend ( The Spider)
Packed like sardines in an old tin can we push and squeeze and excuse me. There are no ‘sorry’s here in the no man’s land that is the middle of the cart. Hands cling to rails and heads are burrowed in books and phones While homeless people tell sad stories that would break your heart … Continue reading The Changing of the Guard / 4 Train
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