Vincent S Coster
Born in Dublin, Vincent S Coster grew up in the village of Enniskerry Co. Wicklow where a chance encounter with a poet in a graveyard led led him to take up writing.
Over the years his work has progressed as he developed his style from mimicking song lyrics to becoming a more serious poet.
He has self published a number of collections over the years and now hails himself as the voice of Irish poetry following the sad passing of his hero Seamus Heaney. To date he has written over 400 poems. more »
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Vincent S Coster Poems
An Obsessive Compulsive's Thoughts On Wa...
The feeling of the water As it runs over my bare skin The soap forming bubbles that pop In lathered delight
They'Re Sleeping And I'M Dancing
(For Al Filreis) The peace of this place chimes with a hum
Reminiscences Of Naomi
I She was a phoney, that was for sure
Moonrise On Southern Cross
The yellow moon hung low Over papier-mâché hills and Cast it's benevolent glow On the factories and homes
I daydream Of eating an apple That I know I shouldn't
You go running away From the mess of your life And you spit and you swear And you damn all around
Keep It Punky
Maybe you could scold me Tell my that you told me so Dig my grave with your Harder words
I Tell You Death
I tell you death A wealth of fascination Soft Subtle
A Short Ode To Naomi Chambers
The stars gave her to me A mind as bright as the sun A presence A true goddess
The Spirit Of Youth (Cans Of Stella)
Youthful exuberance In hoodies and tartan caps Wild Rabid
On Your Knees (For Miss L)
You had your dreams Kept in a paper bag The world was your oyster Or so you used to think
I was born I grew I made some mistakes Along the way
A Working Class Zero
When you are born You are made to feel small But it's all your fault For not being on the ball
Comments about Vincent S Coster
An Obsessive Compulsive's Thoughts On Washing His Hands
The feeling of the water
As it runs over my bare skin
The soap forming bubbles that pop
In lathered delight
It is pure ecstasy for me
The feeling of the water on my skin
Soothing me of the torment
From the man who sneezed
And shook my hands
Not a worry for him
If I should catch the damn thing
What ever it was that made him sneeze
Filthy and uncaring fool who sneezed
Did you see him sneeze?
And then shake my hand with
All them germs and things?
Crawling around like Greeks in Troy
But soap and water are my allies