
Poem: No Record of Wrongs
No Record of Wrongs Love does keep a record of some things— your solitary walks…
No Record of Wrongs Love does keep a record of some things— your solitary walks…
Bliain an Áir ‘The Year of Slaughter’, 1740-41 Around the earth, a warring, wooden sea…
Waking Up He had thousands of kodachromes when he died. Nowadays they’d be snaps stored…
How I Remember Her I glared that first night as she vaunted perks And spoke…
A Partial Epitaph My friend, with many an article and book saved in the Cloud,…
Belshazzar I never knew myself to have a Persian beard, now, This is odd, this…
April Light I’ve let the world of people go in favour of growing spring evenings,…
It Isn’t Just A House It isn’t just a house. It’s the sacred place I…
Hope in Despair I have always loved museums, no doubt having a kind of prophetic…
SONNET XIV for Diane Windsor When I was still the husband of the wind –…
On Opening A Door When I left the cafe I planted my leading foot beside…
Gratitude “Hate it here? But why?” I’m sick of your confounded cry. London is Open—…
Commuting with Baudelaire We are living in a time when there are no gentlemen. So,…
Poets may be divided into three types: those of us who must be and are,…
When I’m Allowed Leave The Cancer Ward with thanks to Claire Higgins for four of…
White Bay Park And cows trod on thickened sand, Bow their heads beneath the sun.…
Advent We have endured long in the dark. It is a burden (A magic? A…
Formation of a Young Irish Intellectual after Nazim Hikmet You will go far young person…
The Bridge After Meryon Bridge of Be-ing, all arches mirrrored upon The river running –…
Uaigneas (Dán do m’athair) Crows befriend the bread-handed boy, Squawk and battle for a bite.…