Our Spring 2016 Special Irish Issue features poetry by Pat Boran, Paul Casey, Stephanie Conn, Dónall Dempsey, Theo Dorgan, Noel Duffy, Susan Millar DuMars, Michael Durack, Janice Fitzpatrick-Simmons, Órfhlaith Foyle, Mark Granier, Jack Harte, Aideen Henry, Kevin Higgins, Kevin Kiely, Brian Kirk, John Liddy, Susan Lindsay, John MacKenna, Thomas McCarthy, Afric McGlinchey, Paula Meehan, Cláir Ní Aonghusa, Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin, Doireann Ní Ghríofa, Ciaran O’Driscoll, Seamus Ruttledge, Lorna Shaughnessy, Eileen Sheehan, Jessica Traynor, John Walsh, Adam White, Macdara Woods and Adam Wyeth with artwork from Liam O’Neill and Nonie O’Neill.
Special Thanks to
Ray Farrell, Theo Dorgan and Maurice Earls for their assistance with this issue.
Poetry Excerpts from this Issue
The Light for Damhnait Ní Ríordáin
by Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin Come out, I say, and you all come to the light. I look for her, she’s there, the sunlight glancing up from the shining
In This Silent Land.
by Seamus Ruttledge In this silent land Say nothing And keep saying it In this silent land. Men draped in cassocks Possess a Nation’s secrets To
Grandmother
by Cláir Ní Aonghusa i.m. Annie Moore Clancy As I look out from the warren hill My eyes are drawn from Galtee More Towards that graveyard by the
Hidden
by Lorna Shaughnessy He wrapped each one carefully: his father’s whisky glasses, his mother’s cooking spoons, lifted them into the attic to rest
The Bomb-Maker’s Watch
by Lorna Shaughnessy Clocking in and out. That’s the bit that gets me. That, and watching the clock, that huge clock over the factory floor,
Mullion
by Aideen Henry We are fortresses you and I our fortifications, castellations and buttresses not visible in the main, not until the flowers and
Found — The sycamore shadow rocks and falls
by Afric McGlinchey backward, to the shock of plant and animal, child. Read it in the child’s face. We used to make this garden our own: that bit
Swallows
by John Liddy Outdoors: A Glenstal Abbey Cycle for Fr Brian From a clearing in the woods with a view across the fields, my swallow’s eye
When the city becomes metaphysical I ask the question
by Kevin Kiely this capitulation of the spirit among cityscape and the banks are empty, lit from inside so poke and digit for your virtual cash
A Hand Of Cinquain
by Mark Granier This game is where letters are given some rope, slack to unwind with, make your name turn its back. What has five fingers, a
Cassidy’s Hill Revisited
by Jack Harte Three telephone masts on the shoulder of the mountain the three wise kings.
Shelley’s Monster Speaks
by Órfhlaith Foyle My left hand Builds a grave and puts words in Dead words that don’t shoot Words that are born but Slip and cripple me. All
Stripes and Stars
by Susan Millar DuMars Trumpet, blood, the reveille for American boys in basement rooms — stars behind their skin, their eyes. At night the flag
The Grassland Ocean of Mongolia, A vision for Sean Braiden
by Theo Dorgan I think of you driving to the edge of town And beyond the edge, out and over into the ocean of tall grass, The wind combing the
Spell Binding
by Theo Dorgan All day I have been sorting keepsakes, sorting and sifting, selecting — feather, bird–bone, leaf and root, a scrap of bright
Prothalamion
by Michael Durack Ceaseless sweep of big muddy water, carry the soul of Magnolia State, spirit of forest and cotton field, soul of Caucasian,
Poets at the Beach
by Eileen Sheehan i.m Maurice J. Reidy, poet No matter what we write, our rivers will insist on flowing downhill; sand will infiltrate our
and he kisses you
by Eileen Sheehan he kisses you tastes your loneliness sings you a song both beautiful and sad he kisses you tastes salt on your tongue thinks he
The routes of loss are varied
by Janice Fitzpatrick-Simmons there is one, it seems to me a narrow mountain track with roiling grey clouds full of fears and rushing wind. I
Easter Rising
by Janice Fitzpatrick-Simmons I lived inside a Shakespearian winter; malcontent, agreeing to a poverty of the soul. And thus agreed, what
Gather In
by Susan Lindsay where the great oak tree has its roots — between them eroded soil affords shelter, the trunk sturdy behind our backs,
John
by Noel Duffy A memory of rain, of our taxi travelling through deserted streets at dawn, the headlights searching out the road ahead of us as we
Ailish
by Noel Duffy I felt the pebble of what once was pass between us, beady and hard and durable, as we always knew it to be but had forgotten —
Close Call
by Ciaran O’Driscoll There was a car speeding towards you on the same side of the road, coming
Crossing
by Pat Boran Because his life depended on it, because there was no other path, because night was coming on and the hounds were closing fast he
Graveyard Scene
by Pat Boran The morning so cold, the earth so utterly iced up, a child asks her mother how the gravediggers will dig out a hole big enough for
Periwinkles
by Adam Wyeth We skirt the edges of the cove, scouring crags at low tide, combing back seaweed hair braided with beads. Up to our ankles in
Angry Birds
by Adam Wyeth I’m lost in this world of crazy kamikazes selflessly flinging their harlequin bodies against timber planks, panes of glass and
The Silence of Moher
by John Walsh Clouds settle close, shy of connecting, no abruptness in the air. A fading mellow before the grey moves in, haunting itself for the
Revisiting the Cliffs of Moher
by Stephanie Conn Back then we travelled around Ireland with only a two–man tent in the boot. We followed the light across hills of sand,
Tessellation
by Stephanie Conn Today or tomorrow the snow will melt. Marina Tsvetayeva All it took was a light dusting of
Night Bus
by Brian Kirk Travelling in hope, a child mother stares at her phone willing it to ring; she lays her head on the pane, surrenders to the squalor
A Libation for the Dead
by Brian Kirk In some parts of the world before the feasting starts, before the drinks are poured, a libation for the dead is spilled on arid
Crows in November
by John MacKenna Suddenly there is sky where no sky was before, the branches form these unexpected scratches, their leaves gouged overnight. And
Summer Table
by John MacKenna My mother was sitting on the cemetery wall, reciting an old poem, not loudly but with the carefulness of one who knows her
Ruins
by Thomas McCarthy Fallen martyrs of Antioch, time’s unrecoverable flora — It’s not me, it’s the garden itself that becomes nostalgic At this
Searching for Dennis O’Driscoll
by Thomas McCarthy The howling November wind, that chill Taxing Master, stiffens Entire buildings in the Castle yard. As we grow older We also
Boghole
by Paul Casey for John W. Sexton the slop migrant vortex of turf muck near swallowed him whole one grey farm day he said, but for a bubble of air
Last Wildflower
by Paul Casey for Rosie I scaled the cliffs of Moher to write about the tourists trekked south till there were no more barriers, signs of stick
Lost Things
by Jessica Traynor We are living now in the era of lost things. Can you feel the bee’s wingbeat as it dodges into the slipstream of the
Bonfire
by Jessica Traynor November slips into December like cold air down my throat. I catch my crow’s feet in the mirror and swallow the shock of years
Thistle Birth
by Doireann Ní Ghríofa Three weeks after her birth I wrap my tiny daughter in a rainbow blanket and wheel her to the forest. There, I see poems
The Backward Look
by Dónall Dempsey for D.B. The blackbird leaves me a note pinned to the sky that blue beyond blue the tide of the moment turning turning. Time
Selfie
by Kevin Higgins “At 50, everyone has the face he deserves.” George Orwell My hair is the grass on the
Irish Liberal Foresees Own Enduring Relevance
by Kevin Higgins My words are smoother than the essential oils the Taoiseach last week had his parliamentary assistant rub into his badly
Addesso e brutto
by Macdara Woods 2. It is all translation: tears to music certainty to fear speech to silence and energy to age Not even a rocky outcrop to
Il tuo amore era bello
by Macdara Woods 1. Which translated text You asked First took me heart and soul into another world And my answer always that same Satyricon I
from Geomantic
by Paula Meehan The Flood It was only when it receded we knew it for the gift it had been. If truth be told we missed the water. It was exactly
Promising music, then falling silent
by Afric McGlinchey Splintery armfuls of the most brazen, persistent kind send one scurrying. massive hands moving clockwise across four corners.
A Short Poetry Reading That Means Something Else
by Ciaran O’Driscoll All right, this is what’s happening. Andrew Motion will recite a poem, then I’ll recite one. And then you can go home.
Poet Biographies
Adam Wyeth
is a poet, playwright, and essayist with two books published. His critically acclaimed debut collection, Silent Music was Highly Commended by the
Macdara Woods
a poet, editor, and translator, he was born in Dublin in 1942 and has published a number of collections including his Selected Poems, The
Adam White
is from County Cork, in the south of Ireland, but has been living and working in France for six years now. His debut collection, Accurate
John Walsh
is a poet and fiction writer with three poetry collections and one short fiction under his belt. Originally from Derry, he has lived in Connemara
Jessica Traynor
is from Dublin and works as Literary Manager of the Abbey Theatre. Her first collection, Liffey Swim (Dedalus Press, 2014), was shortlisted for
Eileen Sheehan
is from Scartaglin, now living in Killarney, County Kerry. Her collections are Song of the Midnight Fox and Down the Sunlit Hall (Doghouse
Lorna Shaughnessy
was born in Belfast and lives in Co. Galway, Ireland. She has published two poetry collections, Torching the Brown River and Witness Trees
Seamus Ruttledge
is an Irish poet, singer, songwriter, broadcaster, and artist who lives in the West of Ireland. In addition to his critically–acclaimed
Ciaran O’Driscoll
was born in Callan, Co. Kilkenny in 1943, and presently lives in Limerick. He has six collections of poetry to his credit, Gog and Magog (Salmon
Doireann Ní Ghríofa
is a bilingual poet writing both in Irish Gaelic and in English. Among her awards are the Ireland Chair of Poetry bursary 2014 –2015. Her most
Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin
born in 1942, is married to Macdara Woods, and they are founder editors of the literary review Cyphers. She was educated at University College
Cláir Ní Aonghusa
was born in Dublin, Ireland. Her poems and short stories have been widely published. Her published novels are Four Houses & A Marriage
Paula Meehan
offers these poems from Geomantic a commemorative quilt in 81 nine line, nine syllable verses to be published by Dedalus Press, Dublin, autumn of
Afric McGlinchey
awards include the Hennessy Poetry award and a Faber Academy fellowship. She has been selected by Poetry Ireland Review as one of Ireland’s
Thomas McCarthy
was born in Cappoquin, Co. Waterford, Ireland in 1954. He was educated at University College Cork. He is the winner of the Patrick Kavanagh
John MacKenna
is the author of seventeen books: novels, short–story collections, memoir, and poetry. He is a winner of the Irish Times; C Day Lewis and
Susan Lindsay
has had two collections of poetry published, Whispering the Secrets and Fear Knot (Doire Press, 2011, 2013). She was a founding co–editor
John Liddy
was born in County Cork, Ireland in 1954. He is the founding editor, along with Jim Burke, of The Stony Thursday Book and has published many
Brian Kirk
is a poet, short story writer, playwright, and novelist from Dublin, Ireland. His work has appeared in the Sunday Tribune, Crannog, The Stony
Kevin Kiely
is a poet, novelist, literary critic, American Fulbright Scholar, and Ph.D. in modernist and postmodernist poetry from University College Dublin.
Kevin Higgins
is co–organiser of Over The Edge literary events in Galway. He has published four collections of poems: The Boy With No Face (2005), Time
Aideen Henry
lives in Galway and works as a writer and a physician. Her debut collection of poetry, Hands Moving at the Speed of Falling Snow, was published
Jack Harte
has published two novels, three collections of stories, and the odd poem. His plays, Language of the Mute and Down in History, are playing in
Mark Granier
has published four collections of poetry, Airborne (Salmon Poetry, 2001), The Sky Road (Salmon, 2007), Fade Street (Salt, 2010), and Haunt
Órfhlaith Foyle
was born in Africa to Irish parents and now lives in Galway, Ireland. Her first novel Belios was published by The Lilliput Press. Her first full
Janice Fitzpatrick-Simmons
was born in 1954, received her MA from The University of New Hampshire and was The Assistant Director of The Robert Frost Place. She was a long
Michael Durack
grew up on a farm near Birdhill in County Tipperary, Ireland. His poetry has been published in a wide range of literary journals in Ireland and
Susan Millar DuMars
has published three collections with Salmon Poetry, the most recent of which, The God Thing, appeared in 2013. Bone Fire will be published by
Noel Duffy
was born in Dublin. His debut collection, In the Library of Lost Objects was published by Ward Wood, London, in 2011 and was shortlisted for the
Theo Dorgan
was born 1953 and is an Irish poet, writer, lecturer, translator, librettist, and documentary screenwriter living in Dublin with his partner, the
Dónall Dempsey
was born in the Curragh of Kildare, Ireland, and was Ireland’s first Poet in Residence in a secondary school. He moved to London in the 1980s
Stephanie Conn
is a former teacher and graduate of the MA programme at the Seamus Heaney Centre, her poetry has been widely published and has won a range of
Paul Casey
his début collection is home more or less (Salmon, 2012). His second, Virtual Tides, is due from Salmon Poetry in early 2016. A chapbook, It’s
Pat Boran
was born in Portlaoise, Ireland, in 1963 and currently lives in Dublin. Prior to taking over the running of the press in 2005, he had published
