All posts filed under: Art

“Blackjack” a bilingual volume of twenty contemporary Irish poets published by Singur Publishing

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Blackjack; A Contemporary Volume of Irish Poetry (Singur Publishing, 2016) Cover painted by Sorin Anca Coordinated by Dorina Șișu and Viorel Ploeșteanu The twenty Irish poets translated into Romanian for this volume are: Afric McGlinchey, Billy Ramsell, Breda Wall Ryan, Christine Murray, Damian Smyth, David Butler, Dean Browne, Edward O’Dwyer, Eileen Sheehan, Eleanor Hooker, Eugene O’Connell, John W. Sexton, Leeanne Quinn, Maeve O’Sullivan, Mary O’Donnell, Nessa O’Mahony, Noel Duffy, Paul Casey, and Roisin Kelly.   The Blackjack translators are: Dr. Isabel Lazãr, Maria Liana Chibacu, Margento, Elena Daniela Radu, Mãdãlina Dãncus, Mihaela Ionitã, and Oana Lungu. I would like to thank Dorina Șișu and Viorel Ploeșteanu for including my poems, Delicate, Pretty Useless Things and Descent From Croagh Patrick in this edition. Thank you for a lovely launch evening, and I would like to expand the Index at Poethead to include more Romanian poets. The online edition of Blackjack. Revisita – Itaca  

from “breath(en) flux ” by Michael McAloran

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I # .…silence yes/ silenced yes/ as if to ever having done with it/ stripped solace no/   vital lapse in all depth of becoming-un/ as if because it were unto/ ash unto/   no/ pure as never was/ ever was/ given to yet it cannot/ asks of dust what climb or other than /   dry reach in catascopic/ hence shadow never vital/   all traces then forgotten/ yet given to un- forgot/ blind edge laughter/ afar/ no/ # clamours afar/ yet nothing to it/ in banquet of nothing no not a/ hence shadow’s dissolve in bit night balm/ well-spoken silenced/ of ghost-limbed rapture no/ call cards as if to/ dissolve yet surface of what to it/ spit in eye of eye of it/ no/ traipse till yet un-afar a-light unlit light of silhouette dark what dark/ yet for as if to/ not a sense of all’s retrace/ of fading nullity/ ever only of it/ spliced no not ever… # …further echo further no/ as if to say that no/ non further yes/ silenced …

Poems from “Strange Country” by Kimberly Campanello

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These poems were first published by Tears in The Fence and are © Kimberly Campanello Kimberly Campanello was born in Elkhart, Indiana. She now lives in Dublin and London. She was the featured poet in the Summer 2010 issue of The Stinging Fly, and her pamphlet Spinning Cities was published by Wurm Press in 2011 . Her poems have appeared in magazines in the US, UK, and Ireland, including  nthposition , Burning Bush II, Abridged , and The Irish Left Review . Her books are Consent published by Doire Press, and Strange Country Published by Penny Dreadful (2015) ZimZalla will publish MOTHERBABYHOME, a book of conceptual poetry in 2016.   Strange Country can be bought from Penny Dreadful Publications Sanctus by Kimberly Campanello We Protect The Weak by Kimberly Campanello

Honour the women of Irish Theatre

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I very rarely add petitions on Poethead, but in the case of The Abbey Theatre’s baffling exclusion of women artists from the 1916-2016 Centenary I am willing to make an exception for a number of days. The issue of authority in the literary arts has always been problematic in Ireland. In poetry, in literature, and now in theatre it is usual for exclusions to occur. That exclusion is hurtful, demeaning and abusive is too much for me. That I saw my heroine Olwen Fouéré holding up a bit of paper calling for parity of esteem this morning has really angered me. They should be throwing roses at her feet. The idea that a skewed exclusionary narrative represents the intellectual and creative development of the idea of ‘State’ is not on. It is not acceptable. Eavan Boland referred to the absence of women artists in the canon as a ‘suppressed narrative’, there are too many fine Irish women artists for this type of exclusion to manifest at critical junctures in state celebratory events, in this instance …

‘Janus- His Mistress Responds’ and other poems by Peter O’Neill

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Kitchen Maid with the Supper at Emmaus, by Diego Velasquez (1617-1618) For Máire Holmes Through the serving hatch, or silent butler, The Christ is seen at the moment of revelation, While the maid, in the foreground, averts her eyes From the immediate task at hand. The bowl, which is falling from the table, Like a globe, and which has just startled her Is certainly for mixing the ingredients; As the garlic lying temptingly to her side would testify. With it, no doubt, the contents of the mortar; Pepper and the ‘fine spice’ to add to her Dobladura De Carnero – Hercules being Mythologised in the toasted hazelnuts. Circumnavigating the room, bread breaks to thunder clap, And the bowl erupts at the announcement of the returning of the lamb. Dies Solis… An unseen yellow dwarf, over one million KMs In diameter, transforming 620 million mega tons Of hydrogen into helium per second, in a process Of thermo nuclear fusion, generates luminance, Which is transported upon solar winds, Taking eight minutes and sixteen seconds to touch The …