All posts filed under: Letters

‘Glendalough Sonnet’ and other poems by Angela Patten

Glendalough Sonnet   Rain and relatives, relatives and rain. In Glendalough’s monastic town a jackdaw baby thrusts his downy head out of a round tower putlock and raises an ungodly yellow beak to squawk at gawking tourists snapping cellphones, the spines of their umbrellas dripping on the ancient bullaun stones where monks once mixed their potions and the holywell was rich in lithium which turned out to be a great cure for the occasional pilgrim who, like me, suffered from the watery weather or a sodden slough of Celtic despond.   Angela Patten ©, The Cumberland Review 2015   Inchigeelagh Getaway   Gaeilge, Inse Geimhleach, meaning “Island of the Hostages”   The land is a sponge sodden with salt water and rain, the mossed path a tangle of Herb Robert and buttercup. Giant leaves of gunnera and the green spears of rushes stand guard around the pond. Laburnum hangs its head like a girl drying her yellow hair.   Water gushes under culverts over rocks, tap-tapping on the roof of the sunroom like a timid …

Three poems inspired by Ric Carfagna, Rus Khomutoff

Vintage ghosts of joy and sadness a saccharine statement the highest expression of the autopoetic force the incarnation and withdrawal of a God declaration of hither swarms accretion of the torrential becoming instances emancipated from all anxieties and frustrations in the anagogic phase made dizzy by the hybris a regular pulsating metre of recurrence     This is not a method   O blacklist of preeminence louder than life itself countdown sequence of aired mysterious booms natural coction the shadow of a shadow of an obtainable new order to bathe in the splendor of lathe and labyrinth as momentum grows that bold and legitimate certainty of endlessly repeating variations and recollections that erect their desire to exist like a new sensation articulating lifelong repeal     In this mode and vague notion of a stay in your placeism event horizon a derangement of senses dragging the echo from the culvert from the book of common prayer eschewing the copula almost like the pace of a dream ordered fragments of a disordered devotion a space we …

‘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 …

‘Magnificat’ (1917) by Geraldine Plunkett Dillon

MAGNIFICAT by Geraldine Plunkett Dillon (1891 – 1986)   1  (Untitled)   While you are in Kilkenny town, I see your grace in every tree; Your hair is as the branches brown, The birches have your bravery.   Your strength in mountain oaks I find, Eagles in this have built their nest; With supple sally twigs you bind My willing heart unto your breast.   Cypress and cedar spreading wide Under your peace my heart will sleep; O rowan tree that grows beside My pool of love, your roots drink deep.   2     June   I fill my heart with stores of memories, Lest I should ever leave these loved shores; Of lime trees humming with slow drones of bees, And honey dripping sweet from sycamores.   Of how a fir tree set upon a hill, Lifts up its seven branches to the stars; Of the grey summer heats when all is still, And even grasshoppers cease their little wars.   Of how a chestnut drops its great green sleeve, Down to the grass that nestles in the …

‘All The Worlds Between’; a collaborative poetry project between India and Ireland

All the Worlds Between is a collaborative poetry project bringing together poets from India, Ireland and in between. Their writing partnerships resulted in four strands—poems as conversations, poems at angles to one another, poems which speak out of turn to other poems in the group and, not surprisingly, stories of friendship.   The poets looked at questions of home, belonging, identity, exclusion and homogenisation. From conversations about shoes and what they evoke to exchanges about parents, poems responding to the transgender experience, to inward angled poems and even chain poems created stanza by stanza over email and WhatsApp, through all of these the poets found themselves eavesdropping on a collective consciousness, ears to the ground listening for the beat of life.   Contributing poets Adil Jussawalla, Aditi Rao, Áine Ní Ghlinn, Alvy Carragher, Anne Tannam, Arundhathi Subramaniam, BeRn, Christine Murray, Claus Ankersen, Daniel Ryan, Fióna Bolger, Maurice Devitt, Menka Shivdasani, Nandini Sahu, Nita Mishra, Ӧzgecan Kesici, Rizio Yahannan Raj, Sampurna Chattarji, Shobhana Kumar, K. Srilata, Sue Butler, Swarnalatha Rangarajan, R. Vatsala.   Edited by Srilata …