Tag Archives: poetry

An apology:

Make dirty a page of new.
My own design, my own to choose.
I know it’s a sin, it’s a wrong
to do. To bring the past upon a
page so new. There are no
conjunctions, there is no hope
of Christ redeem. There is none
of that when white becomes
unclean.

There fault is mine, all here
agree clear. The burden
of resurrection is one
that Pontius could understand.

The sin of woman outmatches
sin of man.

Wounds well sutured still
tear in time.

I don’t care to believe this,
the way I am.

But to die, to be true – the
larks of jealous tone colour
my name and actions of all.

To try my triumph,
to fail my past.

To colour anything so darling is
skill,
sharpened with my own mouth’s axe.

Contemporary WB Yeats

Where are the current WB Yeats?
To which do they write?
Where are the muses, Maude
and daughter fair?

To those in America under new
orange-rule, the American huns
of an American age – where
are the geese flying when
everywhere is a grave?

I bought you ink;
I thought it prettier than flowers.

6 August 2017

I wouldn’t blame you if you
fled away mo duine amhain óg
The stars seem far but
much closer to a home.

The bag’s all packed, by do máthair
agus t-athair, I. The journey’ll
rough, the sky dear will seem
far. But if you must go,
then go on ye should.

With the rocks in the shoes,
the heel gone to hole.
think of maimaí agus dadaí
when all looks far and gone.

Do theaglach can’t much given,
aside from food, hearth, and love.
If I could pack you gold sovereigns,
then I think you’d still ferry far.

From with do fhuil the monster
borne and reared, unstoppable by nature,
and governing law

If I coulda switched it out of you,
by birch or belt all, I wouldn’t
dare change what’s true from nature’s call.

Brought the horse mare your brother,
the call from your sister.
Both missed you already, as soon
as letter lighted shore.

Farewell mo duine amhain óg –
farewell from broken-hearted
loved one, anois anois ye go.