Reading at the Circle Session at the International Bar

This week I had the honour of reading at the current poetry night “The Circle Sessions” at The International Bar” I wasn’t up there since Stephen James Smith used to run “The Glór Sessions” back in the day, and it was nice to be on familiar turf again… Similar to the preceding events that are run at The International Bar, …Read more »

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Three Roses In Her Hand

Three roses she held in her hand For all the world to see One each from two Pretenders A single rose from me… She sat there giggling, smiling Unknowing she had my heart Next to me who was so close Yet we were miles apart. It takes more than a gypsys roses Or poems, this girls heart to win, Who …Read more »

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Never Mind the Heartache, Always Get the Verse

A friend of mine and fellow Tullamore Rhymer Anthony Sullivan has a quotation that goes something along the lines of “Never mind the heartache, always get the song”. As a writer I have to agree… and in my latest outbreak of unrequited love… I have got the poem if nothing else! She of the wild heart, free spirit, did not …Read more »

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Awaiting the Eclipse

I wont be at Tara as planned for the eclipse later on this morning, but in Renmore due to a typical case of Carty bad planning, but nonetheless Im hoping for clear skies and a good view of what I barely remember back in 1999. Researching it – and Ive barely started – brings a lot of folklore to the …Read more »

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Engaging with Art in Longford Providers

Art and Longford are not two words often seen together, but as with empty venues across the country, the old Providers Hardware in the town has become something of a mecca of the arts in the past while. The latest space to open to the public is the Engage exhibition of the works of Thomas Brezing. Id never heard of …Read more »

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She Walks Not the Paths I Find Familiar

She walks not the paths I find familiar Underfoot clear ground and sound stone That I have walked heretofor in life Foot worn slabs trod often and alone. She walks the paths of the briars and the shadows Where rocks to trip exist and mud to slip Path of the raw nature of those of Eden With only Divine planted …Read more »

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Fleeting Shadows Confuse the Walker

The game of love, which others find so effortless, so it appears, to this traveller of lifes journey is confusing at the best of times… Shadows play tricks on my light starved eye As I the watcher of these shapes dancing plead as to why They on my life tired eyes play tricks, illusions, charades Turn fleeting light of light …Read more »

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To One Side I Must Cast My Pen

Verses written win all hearts bar hers She is a slave to life, passion and chance: I am a walker of safe paths, writer of verses of adventure Shall have to cast aside the pen to live this romance Should I in a time to come of her love have cause to write As returned as opposed to as heretofor …Read more »

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Life Flies By

Villages fly by as I Life’s eternal wanderer Who seeks to put down root From where his people came Do not stop to see, to walk explore These places I have passed through before But just see them pass Through the grimy window Of a boneshaking bus. People fly by as I Life’s eternal wanderer Who seeks to put down …Read more »

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She Loves Me Not, The Dandelion Said

“Elle m’aime un peu, non, pas du tout” The game of blowing on a dandelion stating does the object of your affections love you or not is of French origion, with the phrase above “She loves me a little / not at all”… the poem below is based on the phrase… Dandelion bloom in hand I took The question I …Read more »

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