All posts tagged: Arts

The Myth and Memory Of Eavan Boland’s Latest Poems by J P O’Malley

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 at The Boogaloo (London) in this article. ‘The heroic narrative that the founding fathers of the State attempted to make a universal truth is also something that Boland’s poetry has challenged consistently. Lest we forget, the birth of the Irish nationalist myth was forged initially through poetry, which unapologetically glorified violence ‘ (Examiner) It was a similar situation in the visual arts where censorship was prevalent and the original blasphemy laws (we updated them again in 2010) were used to suppress arts, most notoriously the work of Charles Rouault. We can examine how publications were seized and often censored for crimes like obscenity. The fact that there existed before Boland an entire suppressed narrative, a body of literature by women poets, should not surprise us, although it continues to …

Poems from ‘Of Dead Silences’ by Michael McAloran

Of The- Head of death The seasons dissipate as if they Had never collected tears A dissolving sky Soil sieved through fingers The silent laughter of the blood Nothing More- Ruins of the foreign sky From which point all are dead Smears of dying animals upon clear glass The flies will gather, nothing more Ignites- A blindfold of congealed earth The dead drown of inverted tears Lacking the light By which the night ignites the living Upon- Brute flesh shocks the nothing back Into resolve And is then pissed upon Silences- Heart of desolate In a vice of flesh Nowhere else/ nowhere/ nothing less The winds erased having tasted ashes Echoes of non-being Inexplicable silences Champion- Dark hollow The sky unearthed One final breath to champion the infinite Ever- Haven to begin from Scarlet striking out striking the dirt With liquid hands As if it could have ever begun otherwise II #9- Echo within echo within shadow of… Absence/ walls/ flames/ still breath alone Pantheon of carousel/ of vertigo/ of absences Night’s undoing was never …

A note from Olivia Guest at Jonathan Clowes Ltd.

Doris Lessing died a matter of days after I had received permission to carry some of the poems from her Fourteen Poems on this blog indefinitely. I had put up the following note and message and see no reason to remove it. I am happy that I have carried her work for a few years.  I wrote a brief tribute to Lessing’s writing and influence on my writing life here.   Dear Christine We’d be delighted for you to host the poems for longer especially if you’re getting such good reactions. Doris Lessing was never very keen on her poetry and didn’t think it was any good so I doubt we will see a re-issue but at least this way, they are available in an alternative form.   Many thanks and best wishes   Olivia Poems by Doris Lessing Index of Women poets Author and Poet Doris Lessing Open Salon

Vinca Haiku by Virginie Colline

Vinca Haiku   she grazes her scar old blood the color of rust on her maiden lace   charcoal and red smudge nothing can make up the pain the dark trudge quickens   tiny wallflower you cannot hold a candle you, periwinkle   Vinca Haiku is © Virginie Colline   The Spanish Girl Haiku   she follows the clouds the breath of the summer wind gently down her throat   explosion of light the world was but a shadow the minute before   vociferous sky she walks through the bead curtain the storm in her wake   suddenly the sun the Sevillian girl rises in a hiss of silk   The Spanish Girl Haiku is © Virginie Colline Virginie Colline lives and writes in Paris. Her poems have appeared in The Scrambler, Notes from the Gean, Prune Juice, Frostwriting, Prick of the Spindle, Mouse Tales Press, StepAway Magazine, BRICKrhetoric, Overpass Books, Dagda Publishing, Silver Birch Press and Yes, Poetry, among others.

A Celebration of Irish Women Poets on Bloomsday 2013

Rebecca O’Connor Domestic Bliss   I place a jug of lavender on the table to mask the smell of mould from under the fridge   while you draw nails to hammer with your fist. Then I draw a hammer , and watch   as you try to lift it from the page. by day it’s Mr Men, Mad Men, by night,   your father and I wishing we could be so bold. you have no such wants, though sometimes I wonder   as you try to peer into Jack and Jill’s well or climb the tiny ladder of your toy farm to mend the roof of your miniature barn.   –  Rebecca O’Connor Rebecca O’Connor edits The Moth Magazine and organises the Ballymaloe International Poetry Prize. She worked as a commissioning editor of literary fiction at Telegram Books in London before returning to Ireland with her family in 2008. She won a Geoffrey Dearmer Prize in 2004 and her chapbook Poems was published by the Wordsworth Trust, where she was a writer in residence in …