All posts filed under: Poets

‘a song to rest the tired dead’ and other poems by Raine Geoghegan, MA

Romanichals in the 1950’s(i) covels packed chavies scrubbed clean me rackley’s bal washed with panni the grai grizhomed holled (ii) opre and gel on dikk the next atchin tan a fellow chal pookers kushti bokt   Romani words: Romanichals – English Romanies; Covels – belongings; Chavies – children; rackley’s – girls; Grai – horses; Grizhomed – groomed; Holled – fed. Opre – arise/forward; Dikk – look for; Atchin tan – stopping place; Chal – Travelling man; Pookers – calls out; Kushti bok – good luck   Somewhere in Apple Water country Me Mum’s cookin’ sushi stew. Me Dad’s chinning the koshtie’s. I’m practisin’ handwritin’ with a fine pencil. I’m lookin’ forward to sendin’ a proper letter to me cousin Louie, she’s a didikai and goes to school in London. Me dad calls it royal town and say’s ‘e wouldn’t go there, not if yer paid ‘im. She ‘as to wear a uniform, red and gold, but she can’t wear ‘er gold ‘oops, it’s against the rules. If I ever went to school, me dad would …

“Eat Up” and other poems by Fiadha McLysaght

Eat Up   At home I bury my face in the crease of your elbow You cover my mouth as though quenching a flame In return, my fingernails incise the back of your hand as a gift to you coupled with a promise: I would never do that on purpose I cannot understand why you are not thankful I would be so grateful for that promise, so grateful someone had etched themselves into me   In the morning we sever ourselves on the rim of the tin can that encloses our breakfast haphazardly pried open to devour its kernel I blot my bleeding lip against my shoulder and leave a trail of watercolor stains moving down to the crease of my elbow I reach the back of my hand and realise that should you walk in it might appear as though I am purposefully applying hickeys to my body like a curious teenager   You beckon me into the kitchen once more Having forced open the can and fished out the discernible scraps of tin …

“affairs of the unsettled” and other poems by Olly Lenihan

The Robin   You show me your robin bright little bird you are gentle with him   He trusts you, dear, eats from your hand not scared in the slightest   Not as he should be not as I was you were not gentle with me   G.R.C.C. (Galway Rape Crisis Centre)   Through winding streets, I’d never seen before it didn’t feel like Galway at all more like a cardboard cut-out town   When I arrived it was silent, empty a maze of corridors identical flowery waiting rooms   A calm space, dangerous nonetheless I felt like if I fell asleep in one of those rooms they’d never find me again   I believe now that ghosts roamed those halls shells of those they’ve hurt white with nausea, I was one of them   Coming home, I caught snowflakes on my tongue pulled my stolen coat tight against the wind I felt so far from home. Still do–   I can’t tell what I am today whether I’m closer to me than I’ve ever …

Merry Christmas 2018 Dear Poethead Readers ♥

Poetry publishing will resume in January 2019. I will be reading and responding to your submissions in the intervening period. Thank you for your emails, your queries, your support and responses over this year of 2018. As always, the site remains open and accessible. Please visit An Index Of Women Poets and Contemporary Irish Women Poets during the season.  My thanks to Salma Caller, whose wonderful artistic response to my 2018 publications graces this message, her work can be found throughout Poethead. Thanks to the many poets who submitted during 2018. Your tremendous work was an utter joy to read. Thank you for your patience in waiting for publication. I am delighted to have welcomed first-time poets, poet-translators, and work from experienced poets through this past year. Merry Christmas and best wishes for the season. The image accompanying this short post reminds me that in January, the first flowers begin appearing, something wonderful to look forward to.  (Image details) Chris Murray December 2018 Contemporary Irish Women Poets An Index Of Women Poets Recent features on Poethead  …

Poems from ‘Available Light’ by Maria McManus

from ‘Émigrés’   3.   What is going on in your heart?   Prisoners of war live here   Throw off your gaudy vestments, spring’s best and brightest fig and let me see you naked and then, more naked still —   Put your heart in my hearts cavity. Slip it in.   Bring your worry beads if needs be. It’s not too late to shred all documents of denunciation.   5.   Now we must hunt by ear and put our trust   in gossiping swallows, the hooded crows, the herring gulls,   the wryneck’s potent drum.   7. Between silences take notice of the imago of your stolen self. Sold back but at what price?   10. Collect wishbones, place them in charnel houses, quarter the ground to make sure and certain none are missing – these things bring a plan to grief.   11. The song-birds are drowning, the sea is now a cemetery. The song-birds are drowning, the sea is now a cemetery   14. Life’s comforts are honeycombed and treacherous, and …