Death Took The Poet While Writing
“Sullivan The Poet” as Michael Sullivan referred to himself, was a writer I came across online well over a decade ago. I …
Moneenageisha Harbour, Lough Atalia
No-one comes here now with currachs Rowed by men old and young Bringing the turf to and from the islands Serenaded by …
Because The Sun Still Shines
The sun shining tells us there are better times after the storm, worth remembering in these #COVID19 times
Folk of the Land of the Whin
From where to the world’s four corners spread All desire to, but few manage to return To children tales told, songs sung …
Musings Before the Save the Eight Rally in Dublin
Writers Ireland’s spirit caught Web of words in which they sought The Ireland in their eyes that aught Contemporaneously exist. Some said …
Paul Polansky Sat In My Kitchen
The Serbian resident US poet and human rights activist Paul Polansky visited my humble flat some years back. As usual, my place …
Elegy for a Poet I Once Knew
Alas, I learned of the passing of a poet Paul Curran I shared a stage with often at Scene of the Rhyme …
Say Hello to all the Poets
Dedicated to the memory of the late Kay Kinghammer, of the Blackwater Poetry Group, R.I.P. Say hello to all the poets as …
On Reading the Verse of Hera Linsday Bird
I got no objection to lewdness in poetry, or the odd swear word or a few, but HLB writes to make the …
The Great Mcgonagall
William “Topaz” Mc Gonnagle was poet from Dundee, who discovered he could make a rhyme at the grand old age of 52 …
My Way Is In The Sand Flowing
” My way is like the sand flowing between the shingle and the dune” The sand it flows on the seashore Here …
Those Who Fought on That Side
Many men faught not for Ireland But under another flag And of their deeds our folklore feeds Of them we like to …
Dawn Breaks as Yeats Goes to Sleep
Yeats died before the outbreak of war, and his Nobel prizes and international fame was most seen through the Versailles era, with …
Truth Kills Kings
“Truth is dangerous. It topples palaces and kills kings. It stirs gentle men to rage and bids them take up arms. It …
Every Book Has Its Last Page
Dedicated to the memory of the late writer, artist and musician Ingrid Andrew… Every book has its last page When turned, signifies …
The Muses Café
Easons on Dublins O’ Connell Street has a Cafe called Muses… appropiate for a bookshop! While there, looking at pictures of now …
It is All For Little That We Poets Write
A poet writes his words that will Be read by someone who does not care And thinks it odd these rhyming lines …
Heaven Taught Ploughman
“A heaven taught ploughman” – Henry McKenzie speaking of Robert Burns. He learned much with plough in field Beast snorting, as ever …
His Pen Ran Dry
For the memory of Ivor Higg, R.I.P. His pen ran dry, as happens to every writer, The pool of ideas of the …
Obituary – Ivor Hogg
The passing has happened lately of writer Ivor Hogg. Under the name of “Poeticpiers”, he wrote on WritersCafe.org and also on Arcanum …