Seán O Muiríosa
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Seán O Muiríosa Poems
Opening Tunnel Vision
Twinkling lanterns shone high In the Johnstown night sky
Cracks Of Night
Staring through the dark of night I can just about make out the ceiling, cracks and all. It’s a battered fading plain of white like a rolled up piece of paper Flattened back out again. It must have witnessed
The Visiting Hours
I visited your grey face today. Your not well, old friend, not well. They say it’s spreading swiftly Through your every curve and bend,
A Journey to My Roots
The old house stood as sturdy as ever even as the mangled jade ivy clung and grasped as it had for decades, but she would never be killed. It’s not in her make-up.
Ode to Sylvia Plath
Painful star of poetry; Misery disguised, Misery unleashed; Ending in an oven.
A Golden End
Golden waves rushed on in upon a rusty Irish sky as mother sang out across the land, fading leaves strained on branches.
The mind is the scariest thing I know. It is not like any darkness. It is a transparent, life colour Covering everything I am,
Country Essence - Haiku
Fields of green waves under The sky grey, rain on the soft Winds whisper; normality reigns.
A Coral Beach in Connemara
The two of us alone on that stony Cheathrú Rua beach On a July evening that almost seemed like my reason for being. It was our last day together and the sun was burning strong.
I am an erratic. Look at my edges How they pierce the landscape Of the desert each day.
18th September 1994 It’s eleven years now Since I last saw your face.
Tonight the sky is yours. I dedicate it to you in all its awe. It’s so colourful, a promise of things to come perhaps,
I’m drowning. In a sea of wires. They are everywhere. Inescapable. Frail solitary man there in your mottled,
Among Tall Pine Trees
Out among the tall pine trees, with a view that could spill over if it wasn’t so profoundly controlled by the dark ditches,
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Opening Tunnel Vision
Twinkling lanterns shone high
In the Johnstown night sky
In a fashion not seen for years.
At least not by me. But then again,
When do I scan the starry reaches
For those flickers of radiance?
This night I jogged thud after thud
Of tarry motorway, running fast,
Thinking deep, escaping very far.
Snow had fallen for one whole
Week now. The fields held it
Softly like a newborn baby.
A silver glimmer it was to me
At a time when no sight could have
Filled me this night with as much
Relief and human delight as this,
This wonderful ...