Dancer, after Yinka Shonibare, ‘Girl Ballerina’
the stress clinic it’s ok no one need know only negligible impending threat i’m going to leave you let healing happen i’m turning left into the coffee shop it’s easy like this one step one more comforting to sit even on seats slashed by spooks i can wait learn patience is learnt on the edge other worlds where others wait for the breath something that “presents” a hiatus between one distress and the nest you’re reluctant to leave it’s ok the world is out there still the density you love suspended in space preparing the next problem for you to solve you’re good at that talented are you ok? me too it’s just the acid sprung on a tensile in my stomach at ulica Freta, 16 – before radium or polonium the wood seeps into your bones in a room that lives as if its grain & whorls were part of your nervous system – smooth marrow – polished in your tea one lump, two meticulous the molecules contract till they disappear optical illusions have their own reality billowing on the balcony Poland is diluted Prussian Russian fission renames a people invents a purpose of its own but you can shut it out indomitable in a room that soon is rubble while thunder splits the summer partitions your future gladioli everywhere alert to your black dress alive your luggage waltzing in the street (originally published in Can-Can #2) modern art you’re slung rigid against the wall boxed in the past adroit your mouth apes bereft of tongue hoping to emit a word a silence, even something, anything of the side-tracked route you had to take from primitive iron lodged in some alpine nook through ism, to prism to plexiglass you’re waiting - aren’t you for me to gut you get the warm feel of your spasm when I tug on the spinal cord and watch you crumple to the ground crimson refusing to be pressed Taipei i wake my arms wrapped around the city legs enjamb- ed with its towers skyward /a formal composition/ silence /stylized/ flowers through its lights the smallness of them struck by shadowed stills the colour of cavities of not wanting to disturb /harmony respect/ 28 degrees at midnight slums unshimmering slumber the eye insists on definition colour resists /chaos v order/ could hang me it’s a hollow that isn’t black but marinated stinky tofu where the street light sizzles maybe it’s a smell a size the meaning of a name i can never forget /beautiful soup/ corrugated iron angles into place discreet /elegant/ blanketblue & rustroof red staggered across some great want where the revolution daubs its palette of scars
|the stress clinic, at ulica Freta, 16 – before radium or polonium & modern art are © Anamaría Crowe Serrano. Read Jezebel & Taipei (PDF)|
Anamaría Crowe Serrano is a poet and translator born in Ireland to an Irish father and a Spanish mother. She grew up bilingually, straddling cultures, rarely with her nose out of a book. Languages have always fascinated her to the extent that she has never stopped learning or improving her knowledge of them. She enjoys cross-cultural and cross-genre exchanges with artists and poets. Much of her work is the result of such collaborations. With a B.A. (Hons) in Spanish and French from Trinity College Dublin, Anamaría went on to do an M.A. in Translation Studies at Dublin City University. Since then, she has worked in localization (translating hardware and software from English to Spanish), has been a reader for the blind, and occasionally teaches Spanish. For over 15 years she has translated poetry from Spanish and Italian to English. Anamaría is the recipient of two awards from the Arts Council of Ireland to further her writing. Her translations have won many prizes abroad and her own poetry has been anthologised in Census (Seven Towers), Landing Places (Dedalus), Pomeriggio (Leconte) and other publications. She is currently Translations editor for Colony Journal: www.colony.ie.
Cleaving a Puzzle-Tree
Inside the sloe,
|Doireann Ní Ghríofa is an award-winning bilingual poet, writing both in Irish and in English. Paula Meehan awarded her the Ireland Chair of Poetry Bursary 2014-2015. Her collections are Résheoid, Dúlasair (Coiscéim), A Hummingbird, your Heart (Smithereens Press) and Clasp (Dedalus Press). Her work is regularly broadcast on RTE Radio One. Doireann’s poems have previously appeared in literary journals in Ireland and internationally (in Canada, France, Mexico, USA, Scotland and England). Two of her poems are currently Pushcart Prize nominated.
www.doireannnighriofa.com & DoireannNiG
Thanks to Michael J Whelan for this post on ‘And Agamemnon Dead: An Anthology of Early Twenty First Century Irish Poetry’
Originally posted on Michael J. Whelan - Writer:
Hi everyone, I’m really happy to announce that a brand new anthology of contemporary Irish poetry has been published today (St Patrick’s Day) in Paris and I am also delighted to say that I have five poems included in the collection alongside a number of exciting and interesting new voices coming out of Ireland in the these early years of the 21st Century.
And Agamemnon Dead An Anthology of Early Twenty First Century Irish Poetry, Edited by Peter O’Neill & Walter Ruhlmann is published by Muavaise Graine (Paris 2015) –
and among its 187 pages you will find poetry from
Michael McAloran — Amos Greig — Dylan Brennan — Christine Murray — Arthur Broomfield — Peter O’ Neill — Rosita Sweetman — Michael J. Whelan — Anamaría Crowe Serrano —…
View original 227 more words
Becoming a Woman
The Tree of Time
This is a magical time.