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The moon on Paddy's Day Was a calming sight As we walked home Through the revellers Fish and chips in hand A cosy evening ahead of us And spring Like an absolution Beckoning us Towards a better life -- 'fish and chips and drunks and spring', a poem #poem #poetry #poetsofinstagram #irishpoets #stpatricksday #paddysday #moonlight #moon #photography #art #nature #spring #discoverireland #wexford #ireland (at Wexford Quay) https://www.instagram.com/p/CbSVu5Fo9jp/?utm_medium=tumblr
Guess who's about to be a published poet! I am still absolutely gobsmacked that two of my poems got selected for this journal, and I can't wait for you all to read them. The link is in my bio so please go order a copy! #irishpoets #poetry #poetsofinstagram #poetryjournal #poetrycollection https://www.instagram.com/p/CZO91eSKeuf/?utm_medium=tumblr
I still feel shy reading my poetry in public, but with each attempt it gets a little easier. Had a great night at the @creativehubwex poetry night tonight. Can’t wait for the next one.
This is a poem I read tonight called ‘as the world ended’.
—
We lived comfortably
As the world ended,
All things considered.
We stayed in more,
Worked a little less.
The weather got hotter,
Then colder,
And we complained either way.
People were dying
Of course.
But people were always dying.
The news told us
To be cautious
And we were,
For the most part.
We watched a lot
Of cooking shows
And failed
To recreate the recipes.
People were dying,
But our sourdough starter
Was the thing
That preoccupied our thoughts.
We went back to work
Reluctantly,
Students went back to school.
And when,
Weeks later,
Those same students
Were locked inside
Their overpriced accommodation,
Frightened and far from home,
We tutted and said it was a shame.
But truth be told
We were more concerned
With the cake
That got dropped
On Bake Off.
We lived comfortably,
More or less,
As the death toll
Crept on upwards.
We wore our masks
And washed our hands,
And said: “It can’t
Go on forever.”
People were dying,
But people are always dying.
And when we were told
We couldn’t
Go to the funerals
Of friends and acquaintances
We were sad,
But also
We were relieved.
It meant we could
Stay in.
We’d gotten very good
At staying in.
Things got worse,
And worse,
And worse.
With each passing week,
Each rolling news cycle,
Denial got a little bit
Harder.
But humans are nothing
If not persistent.
So we carried on,
And all in all,
We lived comfortably
As the world ended.
—
#poetry #poem #poetsofinstagram #irishpoets #queerpoets #spokenword #poetrynight #art #wexfordoperafestival #irishgirl #mirrorselfie #mirror #photography https://www.instagram.com/p/CVoNdaYKspv/?utm_medium=tumblr
"The Secret," by James Stephens
short poem by the Irish writer (1882-1950)
"Gospel," by Patrick Kavanagh
"Fear," by Ciaran Carson
From Selected Poems by Ciaran Carson, published by Wake Forest University Press. Copyright © 2001 by Ciaran Carson. Reprinted with permission by Wake Forest University Press
#indiepoetryplease #instagrampoets #newpoetry #irishpoets #writingcommunity #poetrycommunity #poetryireland #amwriting #mypotery #poetsofinstagram #poem #poetry #peaceandtranqulity #poetryinnovation #publishedpoet #poetssociety #Wexfordpoet https://www.instagram.com/p/CDLar1jn5cw/?igshid=jpnir1lwkob1