mai venn

Bronze Star - 2,101 Points [5252]

mai venn Poems

1. The Irish Lament 4/15/2015
2. Help By Mai Venn 9/29/2015
3. Just Write 9/30/2015
4. The History Books 10/4/2015
5. The Budget 10/7/2015
6. That Regime End 11/6/2015
7. Why Kill? 11/15/2015
8. Who Do They Think They Are Fooling 11/19/2015
9. Life Is A Gift 11/24/2015
10. At War 9/27/2015
11. I Am Sick And Tired. 12/7/2015
12. Vote 1/18/2016
13. The Ladder Of Life By Mai Venn -new- 2/9/2016
14. Unfinish Poem 1/13/2016
15. Thinking To Myself 10/20/2015
16. November 2015 11/29/2015
17. Will You Go By Mai Venn 10/14/2015
18. Dreams For Ireland 9/30/2015
19. The Scale Of Liberty 4/15/2015
20. Blackmail The Oppressed, Attachment Order, Why Don’t You? By Mai Venn 5/6/2015
21. We Are Back 8/31/2015
22. The Winds Of Change 9/13/2015
23. Lady Of The Limelight 8/6/2013
24. Spark Of Light 10/13/2013
25. School Days 5/11/2015
26. Inspiration 10/1/2013
27. Clouds And Sea 8/27/2013
28. A Stroll Through Autumn 11/10/2014
29. Boom, Boom, Boom 9/30/2015
30. January 1/15/2016
31. The Music Stopped 12/7/2015
32. Go -new- 1/29/2016
33. Seasons Beside The Barrow By Mai Venn 6/30/2014
34. The Ballymun Flats 10/2/2013
35. By Candlelight 7/8/2013
36. The Corridors Of Life 9/30/2013
37. The Wee Fossil 6/30/2014
38. The 4th Day Of Christmas 12/28/2014
39. The Cold Spell 2/15/2015
40. Sunny Skies In Omagh 10/12/2013
Best Poem of mai venn

The Tears Of Ireland

It's time for me to write once more
But my mind flowed slow of inspiration
It's May Day, as I glance around

Apple blossoms nod in the breeze
Trees bloom green variations of shade
Across the fertile country of Ireland
Then petals fall like pink flakes of snow
Our pretty landscape is still and quite
Calm before a raging storm commences
Abortion looming over the realm
Austerity cuts the state in two

But yet

Apple blossoms nod in the breeze
Life goes on for the rich not the poor
Oppression and strife for the deprived ...

Read the full of The Tears Of Ireland

Anne Alone

All alone
You came to the grounds of Granard’s Church.
Frightened; forsaken,
What could be worse?
Oh Anne, your were but a child and not much more
When the pangs of labour,
All alone, you had to endure.
Your labour bed was a sheet of glass,
Your midwifes were the clouds that passed.

[Hata Bildir]