The First Cut is…
for Ifrah Ahmed
I could feel
In the still
Canal Walk Home
What is it
Three lads sit on the boardwalk
Car lights are reflected in
Edged by banking sycamore leaves
A little further on
And then to gaze down the row
The red car lights more dense
For all your talk
The splendour of the curvature of the
My soul is saddening.
Take me away. No answer.
But while geographically there were many places she could have gone to.
His flinty eyes of malice recognised this.
Only her emptiness lingered
That seething chasm of nothingness
Why, the wolves of course.
Engorged breasts of black milk
The Last Day
Consumed and other poems are Gilliam Hamill.
|Originally from the village of Eglinton in Derry, Gillian Hamill has lived in Dublin for the past 12 years (intermingled with stints in Galway, Waterford and Nice). She has a BA in English Studies from Trinity College, Dublin and a MA in Journalism from NUI Galway. She is currently the editor of trade publication, ShelfLife magazine and has acted in a number of theatre productions. Gillian started writing poetry in late 2014.
⊗ Gillian’s Website
In Memory of the 796 infants and children who died at the Tuam Mother and Baby Home.
– honouring Leonora Carrington –
Csilla Toldy was born in Budapest. After a long odyssey in Europe she entered the UK with a writer’s visa to work on films and ended up living in Northern Ireland in 1998. Her prose appeared in Southword, Black Mountain Review and anthology, Fortnight, The Incubator Journal, Strictly Writing and Cutalongstory. Her poetry was published online and in print literary magazines, such as Snakeskin and Poetry24, Savitri, Lagan Online, Headstuff, Visible Verse, A New Ulster and in two chapbooks published by Lapwing Belfast: Red Roots – Orange Sky and The Emigrant Woman’s Tale.
Too many moons
for Jack Gilbert who went further
Too many moons in his poems, he said they said.
how to say what
Words are the clothes thoughts wear.
To say nothing the same.
To Say Thinking
Ever since Rinny found the words to speak public,
Writing in Place
It’s about weighing things,
It’s about writing in place
It’s like exactly.
It’s about holding some rhythm
It’s about writing in place,
Shore-Lines in the Sand
As though Camus could ever live without light
Life is no transparent stillness
I want my poems to touch that surge,
Doris Lessing said I was a child of violence
Doris Lessing said I was a child
“my heart speaks before my words
Linda Chown, Ph.D The University of Washington, Comparative Literature. Dissertation based in part on interviews conducted with Spanish writer Carmen Martín Gaite, (“Narrative Authority and Homeostasis in the Fiction of Carmen Martín Gaite and Doris Lessing.”) MA/MFA from San Francisco State University. Linda is a poet, professor, and critic. She lived for eighteen years in Andalucía. She has published three poetry collections, Buildings and Ways, All the Way Up the Sky, and Inside In. Poems in Foothill Quarterly, Quixote, Intro 3, Dark Horse, Magdalene Syndrome Gazette, Women Spirit, Grand Valley Review.
She worked five years with San Francisco Poetry Center, extensive workshopping and friendships with Stan Rice, Robert Creeley, Galway Kinnell, Mark Linenthal, Frances Jaffer, Kathleen Fraser, Shirley Kaufman, Francis Hosman, and others. Lunches with poets such as Allen Ginsburg, James Wright, Gary Snyder, Amiri Baraka, Robert Duncan, Kenneth Rexroth, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Mark Strand, Madeleine Gleason, Robert Bly, Diane Wakowski, Denise Levertov and Michael McClure.