Poetry

Poetry

It goes on one at a time,
it starts when you care to act,
it starts when you do it again after they said no,
it starts when you say we and know who you mean,
and each day you mean one more.

Marge Piercy

Rathlin: In memory of Derek Mahon
Monday, 05 October 2020 07:14

Rathlin: In memory of Derek Mahon

Written by
in Poetry
Jenny Farrell memorialises Derek Mahon by presenting a reading of his poem Rathlin, bringing out its political message and artistic skill Derek Mahon died on 1 October. Born into the Protestant Belfast working class, he was of a generation with Seamus Heaney and Michael Longley. All three poets benefitted from…
Working-class poetics and heeding the 'cry of the poor'
K2_PUBLISHED_ON Sunday, 20 September 2020 07:21

Working-class poetics and heeding the 'cry of the poor'

in Poetry
Written by
Fran Lock writes about our potential to develop and publish a new kind of poetics, where solidarity and community can be fostered in moments of lyrical, dialectical tenderness. Above image by Imtiaz Dharker, from Witches, Warriors and Workers We are living through a strange and difficult time for poetry; for…
The Burden of Ownership
K2_PUBLISHED_ON Tuesday, 15 September 2020 12:17

The Burden of Ownership

in Poetry
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The Burden of Ownership by Jenny Mitchell He measures cost in body parts. A head paysfor a month of food; two eyes a week of drink.Christmas adds a throat. Carved out with carethe neck still holds a yoke if the chin is firmweight evenly proportioned. Four breasts pay for his…
Run on the food bank
K2_PUBLISHED_ON Tuesday, 15 September 2020 12:17

Run on the food bank

in Poetry
Written by
Run on the food bank by Mick O'Sullivan Unwanted crumbs are swept here, for today’s bumper giveaway. Proud feathers ruffle 'midst flap and kerfuffle.Heads turn sharp, nervously taut,unblinking eyes flash then stare.Any grub is grabbed eagerly, greedily;constantly they struggle to live - or die. Edgily restive, unwilling to linger,dumbly clutching…
Moonshot Haiku and Impressions of a Curate's Egg
K2_PUBLISHED_ON Monday, 14 September 2020 09:19

Moonshot Haiku and Impressions of a Curate's Egg

in Poetry
Written by
Moonshot haiku by Laura Taylor Moonshot ambition; bukkake for the nation. Pass the flannel, please. Impressions of a Curate's Egg by Laura Taylor It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It didn't miss a trick of the Spring bells and yellows, marigold's bloom. Sitting in…
She Died Alone
Monday, 14 September 2020 08:02

She Died Alone

Written by
in Poetry
She Died Alone by Mike Jenkins She died there in hospital,no husband, Sissy, daughter Ingridno church kin around herand at her funeral of regulation 10her own Lusamba saw the coffinand could not imagine her within. She was a mother to everyonewho was blown into Victoria stationlost for food or direction,took…
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