Fiction: Yer Man
Inside the castle’s gift shop stood White, reading the biography of the artist whose work…
Browsing: Culture
Poem – ‘Psalm’
Psalm The light and the wind on the water these wild winter days are breath…
A Poem for Refaat Alareer
A Poem for Refaat Alareer In the poem your butchers fear to breathe, the murdered…
Musician of the Month: Cara Coyle
The music I am performing at the moment mostly came from three different sets of…
Shane MacGowan’s Madonna
So, it’s Thursday night in Dublin, I’ve found some Poitin, and am thinking of Shane…
Musician of the Month: Lewis Barfoot
I grew up in Walthamstow, London listening to my Dad play finger-picking folk covers on…
Late Art and Hackney Diamonds
The theme of ‘late art’ was recently explored by the art historian Carel Blotkamp in…
Poem: No Record of Wrongs
No Record of Wrongs Love does keep a record of some things— your solitary walks…
The Empire Windrush
The Empire Windrush sails tonight, she’s got a one-way ticket, and she’s half way home…
The Cult of Literary Narcissism
No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity, but I know none, therefore…
Musician of the Month: Anne Drees
What do you pay attention to when you listen to music? The lyrics and melody?…
Bliain an Áir – ‘The year of slaughter’ 1740-41
Bliain an Áir ‘The Year of Slaughter’, 1740-41 Around the earth, a warring, wooden sea…
Canary
The underlying theme of Canary is that of missed warnings and overcoming trauma. My mother…
Recalling World Sculpture Park Changchun
I spent four years teaching English in Changchun, a city of six million people in…
Ciaran Carson: The Dichotomy of Being
Belfast writer, and poet, Ciaran Carson carried a black flute with silver keys on its…
The Death of Blake
The bed had been positioned deliberately near the window so the artist had a view…
Musician of the Month: Myriam Kammerlander
When I was five, I made myself a paper flute. I played it sitting on…
Waking Up
Waking Up He had thousands of kodachromes when he died. Nowadays they’d be snaps stored…
How I Remember Her
How I Remember Her I glared that first night as she vaunted perks And spoke…
The Secret Garden
The leaves of Greenwich Park were the soul of Autumn as I walked slowly up…