Weaving and Web-making
I do not often recommend newspaper articles on Irish poetry, but I am making an exception in the case of The Examiner’s review of Eavan Boland’s latest book New and Selected Poems Eavan Boland (Carcanet). J P O’Malley offers an extensive review, some illuminating video links, and a preview of his upcoming interview with Boland…
Adagio for Strings My heart that soared and climbed To other realms of fantasy That longs to find the answers To everything To dream those endless dreams To drift in waves of oceans Of oneness complete And really know In pools of beautiful thought Transport my soul Where heaven will be And…
purple blue thistle ghosts/ghosting mouths they’re pulling purple blue thistle/our heads prickle their grey thumbs. the un-holdable bouquet/clamped with their veil of see through teeth blood is not blood it is a shadow veining the natural light that our eyes fail to adjust to and our glossy mouths fail to lipsynch the weeded purply…
Swallows The knitting needles drew melodies from silence as stitches seemed to follow one another like swallows alighting upon a wire, watching the tiny dress of softest yellow wool grow like a sunrise waiting for she who waited within. She, who came and left all too soon. Stretched and stitched, I lie empty, raw, alone…
It’s What You Put Into It For Grace On the last day of term you brought home a present, placed it under the tree, a light, chest-shaped mystery wrapped in potato stamped paper intricate with angels and stars. Christmas morning you watched as we opened it, cautious not to tear the covering.…
