All posts filed under: New Poetry

Poems from “Strange Country” by Kimberly Campanello

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

Poems from “Off Duty” by Katie Donovan

Wedding   “Hasty,” the judge mocked until he read the letter from the consultant, his jaded face changing to pity. We got the green light then, to marry in a hurry.   We turned up in our jeans and limped through the ceremony – upsetting the officiating lady, determined to make this a special occasion.   Outside the registry office we inked a shadow on the next couple: the bride, glowing in her plumage, her robust young groom, their flower girls fidgeting.   My brother and his wife had used their lunch hour to be our witnesses. They went back to work, and my new spouse rode off on his bike: the big triumph that, with six months to live, he could still cycle.   I had to collect our children – the paltry nuptials would have been disappointing – no frocks, no fun – just this boring signing thing, and so I kept it secret, left them with Gran.   I sloped off to the train. It was bright, a May day, and I …

‘Moving Like Anemones’ and other poems by Lorna Shaugnessy

Crystal   The blower adds breath to heat, turns and blows within the mould until he finds precise form. Molten glass vibrates. It takes ten years to learn how deep you can cut before the glass shatters, how deep you have to go to catch the light. Mistakes pile up waiting for the furnace, a second chance, instability anchored by the weight of lead.   Río Tinto   We cannot enter the Roman graveyard. The gates are padlocked and chained so we press our faces to the wire, squint at the skewed angles of mossed stones, the departed minions of enterprise and empire. Behind us the mines, where pulleys and sidings punctuate strata of centuries-old endeavour. Rock and mineral are bared in russets and ochres too raw for peopled places. Their cratered wounds fill with water so deep you could drown there. Today is Sunday. In the high, hushed absence of trucks to rumble up the hill we try to hear beneath the wind, listen for the sound of stone, touch the injured past, its …

International Poetry Competition: The Vision of 1916 Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow.

Reclaim the Vision of 1916 – a Citizens’ Initiative International Poetry Competition 2016 THEME: The Vision of 1916: Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow Inspired by the strong connections between poetry and the Easter Rising – often known as the “Poets’ Revolution” – we are proud to announce that our International Poetry Competition 2016 is now open for submissions. Many of the Rising’s leaders were accomplished poets, including Pádraic Pearse, Joseph Mary Plunkett, James Connolly – and the eminent Thomas MacDonagh. Also acclaimed for his talents as a teacher, playwright, Irish language scholar, and literary theorist, it is in MacDonagh’s honour that we have chosen for the competition’s first prize the Robert Ballagh-designed Thomas MacDonagh Medal (along with a cash award of €1,000). In its aftermath, the Rising motivated a generation of poets of national and international renown – including George Russell (AE), Francis Ledwidge, Padraic Colum, James Stephens, Sean O’Casey, Eva Gore-Booth and William Butler Yeats – to reflect upon its ideals, events, men and women, and consequences. Alongside these can be placed a succession of …

‘Chasing Tails’ and other poems by Layla Hehir

Beware of the Hey Man   Beware of the Hey Man, he’s lurking in the street. That hipster-hatted Hey Man, the coolest guy you’ll meet. He’s sipping on his coffee, a pained artistic soul. The only thing that this guy’s drawing is the dole. His conversation sparkles as he bums a cigarette. He’s working on a book you know, it’s just not finished yet. Beware of the Hey Man, he’s drifting through the crowd. If you keep drifting every day man, the world won’t wait around. The screenplay never written, the painting never hung. You’ve wasted years and missed the boat but hey man, it was fun. Sharon   She scurries through life like a squirrel on cocaine. Her manner is harried, her banter inane. Give her one problem, she’ll come back with twenty. Don’t ask for ideas, you know she’s got plenty.   She’s sorted the inventory nobody needed. If she stays the latest it means she’s succeeded. She feels so hard done by, why all the complaints? Will anyone tell her she belongs …