Category Archives: Poetry

Thorny Garden of Eden

Not for me dull sodden land

Disturbed by upcroppings

Of white thorny mayflower

With cattle splurging their way home.

But for me a place

With white rocky back glistening

Under the raw red setting sun.

A hump backed stranded island

Amid sparkling sea and shimmering sky.

A mere bone of earth

Keeping itself afloat

While stripping me of unnecessaries.

A keeper of spring gentian and campion

Storm stranded sparrow hawk,

Arctic tern and sun seeking swallow.

Yes, for me this sun faded picture

Of bleached rock, bleached sand and sky

That I can touch and see and feel and know

With the sureness of earthly instinct

That in this thorny garden of Eden

Is all that is life to me.

Catherine Conneely Poem

Poem: Catherine Conneely. Image: JesseJames

Ancient Ways

The ancient ways are going

For the old woman knows words

In Gaelic, her grandchildren don’t,

Their Irish, modern, anglicised,

Hers bound to the earth

Carved by it as the rock underfoot.

The currachs like discarded shells

Of black backed beetles

Lie rotting in the sand.

The well-worn paths once woven

Into the landscape by feet

Are now mudded and gouged by tractor

Tyres no longer bordered

By smooth, soft margins,

Once home to wild garlic and primrose.

The Arctic Tern still finds a shelter

As does the Cuckoo and the Swallow

But the Corncrake left long ago.

Grey rock, grey sand, grey sky

Still the same, not yet scarred

But there’s a change in the wind

For the ancient ways are going,

Blowing away.

The ancient ways are going

Poem: Catherine Conneely. Image: JesseJames

 

Inishative with John Shaw-Rimmington

Inish less or inish more
Inish either Inish or
I’m glad I’m back in Inisheer
I think I’ll have a local beer
Inish woman Inish man
On the isles of Aran
The first Irish coming here to live
Really had inishative

Flattish roundish
Start to finish
Upish downish
Outish Inish

Beyond the view beyond the sky
Almost as far as sea can eye
Before my strength and health diminish
I must return once more to Inish

Attractive views here and there
You see a tractor everywhere
Walls of grey
On greenish isle
random walls in feidin style

Mudders here. Children there
Tursty tourists everywhere
You needn’t be a power house
To climb up to the tower house

It isn’t such a real big hastle
To catch a view from yonder castle

It’s worth the trip on the ferry
To Lands of walls of bramble berry

Words and Image: John Shaw-Rimmington

 

Summer Slumber by Catherine Conneely

Summer Slumber

Catherine Conneely, Inis Oírr

I’m drunk on drowsiness

While Lord Cat sleeps in chair

Not minding swallows sweep

The dead, dusty air.

 

Jet paints a white line

In a blue frosted sky.

Boats on a glazed sea

Like life, pass me by.

 

Currachs curved and black

Hauling towards the land.

Silhouetted seagulls slumber

Beyond sun sorched sand.

 

I’m drunk on drowsiness

Summer sounds in the air,

Lost in a sultry slumber

While Lord Cat sleeps in chair.

Seagull by JesseJames Inisheerzibaldone.com