November 9, 2009
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November 5, 2009
Eithne Strong’s ‘Sarah in Passing’
This wee poem (one of 17 from Eithne Strong’s book, Sarah in Passing)
is one of my favourites, thus I am publishing it today in my Book of Days. The
book is published via Dolmen Press 1974, I found it on a book stall in George’s
Street Arcade some few years ago; and along with Mark My Words,by Eilís
Ní Dhuibhne (Illustrated by Alice Maher), it’s one of my favourite poetic
and illustrative collaborations:
Regeneration
“Let me out. I’m rising out of death’s skull.
Aha, old devil’s dower I have victoried.
I leave you in the morning: it deals
with every death and spring defeats the catafalque.
You see I must believe in resurrection.
This is it. Now. I was dead and am alive.
Hello eternity. I can die no more horrific
death than I have died. No hell beyond
the horrors of myself that murdered
every life; saw death in every pregnancy
of dog and nut and man. Found death
the ever death. Come bomb,come
my most killing hate, life lives outside
the blasting skull. Computer is not final.
I cannot give you proof of course,
I merely have arisen.”
Regeneration, from Sarah in Passing, by Eithne Strong, Dolmen Press 1974, illustrated by John Hodge.
November 2, 2009
The National Campaign for the Arts Petition.
I have discussed here on Poethead before now the effects of a bad
approach to arts, indeed compared this current Government’s paucity
in funding to the first government in this state which underfunded,
censored and failed at every level in arts development , leading to
the evolution of such groups as The Irish exhibition of Living Art, The
White Stag group, the friends of the Hugh Lane Gallery and many more.
Most of these comments are noted in the threads about Blasphemy
and the funding cuts to the Irish and Western Writer’s Centres.
I spent a considerable amount of time listening to similar stories
in Music development in Mayo (theres a facebook going there too).
I expect that it is a lack of cultural understanding about how art
develops that plagues this government, not to mention a sense
of propiety which belies an almost lunatic ignorance (which most of
the growing Irish generation has witnessed in the approach to
the destruction of Tara by Dick Roche, John Gormley and Bertie
Ahern). Ireland needs a viable Art’s Council and a Minister capable
of intellectual integrity .:. Sign the Petition here ‘:’
October 23, 2009
Bridie is on her way to Prayer, by Poethead
A Wiki Iris.
Bridie is on her her way to prayer,
Past the purple bells that grace the wall
-They will not be still
Raising their arms up to the breeze
That blows in from the mountain.
October 13, 2009
A Poem by Paul Celan.
from Fathomsuns and Benighted, Trans Ian Fairley.
.
“White Noise, bundled,
beam-
tracks
cross the table,
with the bottle-mail.”
.
[from: Fathomsuns and Benighted, Trans Ian Fairley.
Carcanet 2001. Fadensonnen and Eingedunkelt
Introduction by Ian Fairley (trans)]
.
“White Noise, bundled,
beam-
tracks
cross the table,
with the bottle-mail.
(which sounds itself,sounds
an ocean,drinks it
in, unmasks
the gangwealed
mouths.)
The one Arcanum
passes forever into the Word.
(Apostates roll
beneath the tree without leaf.)
Every
shadowclasp
on every
shadowhinge,
in and out of hearing,
all now report.”
I do like Paul Celan, indeed theres a wee poem by him on Poethead
entitled Irish, Use the search engine at the top right of
the page to access Celan.
In the meantime the book is: Paul Celan Fathomsuns and Benighted, Trans Ian Fairley.
Carcanet 2001.
.
