All posts filed under: irish Women Poets

‘Saturnian Girls’ and other poems by Anora Mansour

Saturnian Girls Orbit of cramped pantaloons you offered painted blood as an apology my love. And I take it in turns to disavow the tureen of your torment — your stone soup its coagulated colours seared by Farsi tea and a spoonful of breast milk. You often fantasise about my forest path cries amongst the de-coupled tombs where the travellers sleep and porcelain panthers creep. Some womenfolk are screws to their kin  Guards grasping for that infinite love.  The needle that weaves time. Wicked you made me weep over identity papers lost and then I knew you’d become another Him.  One of the happenstance  patsies of pain. Greedy confessors whose tittle are a fiddle from the hush city streets. Their fistula make you say Aha. I must shake the rack this bacchanal ruin  your Thanksgiving banquet  for the baying peasants. Beware the Saturnian sea-girls clutching sharp pink conch behind their backs, Their chosen weapon of defence.   Detroit Waters I’ll soon be free yes, restless me. Glass holding up honky tonk hells- Leaden water cities …

‘No Cure’ and other poems by Jean O’Brien

The Dreaming In my Dreamtime I was the lizard, skin smooth, yet scaled the contradictions of the Chameleon without the colour, for I had the colour of the rock grey, green warm and dry as the sand. My dance was the dance of perfect stillness. Reposed amongst the rocks only my darting tongue would betray my presence. In the dry hot wind the smell of raw loneliness coming off me was like a skin that would not form. The desert sun is too harsh, the hot sand like pumice strips off the grace notes while my skin shifts to encompass the loss. First published in Working the Flow, Lapwing Publications (1992) Eds: Dennis and Rene Greig. Smoke and Mirrors The magnifying mirror frames her face holds tight its reflection, throws it back at her bright and big. The lens takes her in, rearranges her face. It is insistent; a moon drowned in a lake. It has no point of view, no alchemy except a true reverse of what it sees. Words fly from her. The …

‘Briar Notes’ and other poems by Marian Kilcoyne

Spectre   When I saw you, the earth went silent and the chattering birds sawed off their beaks. The breeze hushed and gulped into itself. If there was a cicada, it choked on a stone. The trees donned black tie and straightened up while the mouse, mole, and hedgehog died in their sleep. The fox darted further into the amaranthine garden, nose quivering, inhaling fright. When I saw you, the moon strangled the sun, then spat upon the stars. Now, see what you have done.   First published in The Frogmore Papers (ed. Jeremy Page).   Girl   Since I saw the girl who does not eat, or trade in food currency, to keep the breath even, or the gaze straight. Since then. Since then ago to now, I cannot bear to watch a robin hopping nervously on skinny legs, or jaunting around the patio, perilously balanced. Averting my eyes from the bird, I think of her. No part of her was right. I wondered if when she crossed her clanking legs, she felt her …