Tomas Venclova at Poetry Now

The highlight of last night's two reading sessions at Dun Laoghaire Poetry Now Festival was Tomas Venclova's reading which finished off the second session.

Born in Lithuania in 1937, here was someone who was a participant in, rather than a link with, that great dissident literary movement in middle and eastern Europe of the last century. As a young poet he met and translated Anna Akhmatova and Boris Pasternak and was involved with Joseph Brodsky and others in the Lithuanian and Soviet dissident movements. He was exiled in 1977 and has lived and has taught in the USA since.

He was a wonderfully live presence on the stage. He spoke excellent English with a marked eastern European accent. He introduced all the poems himself, read some in Lithuanian and two others read the English versions. In some cases then we heard Venclova's introduction and the English version only. If that sounds awkward it wasn't.

His poems were not oppressively political, not exclusively focused on the oppression of the past but finely balanced between the general and the specific, the personal and the public.

One of the first he read was about being interviewed by two younger reporters. He muses about the generations asking the same questions:

I know evil never disappears
but one can at least strive to dispel blindness -
and poetry is more meaningful than dreams.

Another poem, "For an Older Poet", dealt with his relationship with his father, a poet who became a "Soviet poet"and with whom he had a difficult relationship. His poem "In the Lake Region" is an understated consideration of "a peaceful corner of Europe between Wansee and Potsdam". Wansee is where Hitler's "Final Solution" was comfirmed and Potsdam is there at a conference Churchill and Roosevelt agree that Russia would have influence over the states of eastern Europe, including Lithuania. This is a place "where much has happened, but, probably, nothing more will".

Venclova's readings of his poems in Lithuanian were the highlight of the event. I didn't want to hear the translation read. He has a striking reading style, helped by the fact that I had never heard Lithuanian being spoken before. It was wonderful. Do we really need foriegn language poetry translated? If he had come out read all his poems in Lithuanian with an English introduction I would have been delighted. I suspect many more in the audience would have been also.

Some of his poems can be read here. Interview here. More here.

Robert Pinsky - "The Fate of the Modern"

I attended the Dun Laoghaire Poetry Now Festival keynote address last night by American poet Robert Pinsky. Entitled "The Fate of the Modern" it was a most wide ranging, at times detailed talk which I enjoyed immensely. It is impossible to summarise such a performance and indeed it should be impossible. I'll just mention some of the points made and poems referenced by Pinsky.

His starting point was the lines "Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird!/ No hungry generations tread thee down;" from the Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats. Stressing the fact that as humans we are "born for death" he went on to read and talk about a two line poem, "On Love, on Grief", by Walter Savage Landor

On love, on grief, on every human thing,
Time sprinkles Lethe's water with his wing.

You can read some comments by Pinsky on this poem and hear him reading it here on Slate magazine.

Modernism, Pinsky seemed to say, is a means of dealing with the past which is different from the traditional excessively respectful way. It involves remembering and forgetting - two aspects of the same activity. It is a way of changing ghosts into ancestors.

As examples of poems which exemplify this modernism he read To Elsie by William Carlos Williams. You can read the poem here and hear Williams reading it. He also read the last section of A Supermarket in California by Allen Ginsberg noting how it ended with an echo of Landor - the image of the river of forgetfulness, Lethe. This poem is available to read and hear here.

Towards the end of his talk he read the first poem, Poem of Disconnected Parts, from his latest collection, Gulf Music. It contains these lines, a quote from a Zulu tribesman, which echoed what Pinsky said about ancestors and the modernist attitude to the past:

"The sangomo says in our Zulu culture we do not
worship our ancestors: we consult them."

And he finished with the last poem from the same volume "From the Last Canto of Paradise" which is as it says a translation of a small part of canto 33 of Dante's epic. You can see and hear him read the same poem here.

New York Times review of Gulf Music here.

The Poetry Now Festival continues today.

Poetry Now Festival

Two magazines, Poetry (USA) and THE SHOp dropped in the letterbox yesterday. No time to do much more than browse them yet but of note is the fact that Irish poet Conor O'Callaghan, Dundalk native or one time resident there, has three poems in Poetry. (Nice to see a typo in his bio, it's reassuring to see this happens in more prestigious magazines as well as in Boyne Berries). Conor is also featured in the magazine podcast.

Interesting letters, comments and reviews in the same magazine but more on them some other time.

THE SHOp has a fine collection of poetry from some very well know names including poet Barbara Smith who was a fellow highly commended at the recent Caomhnu Cavan Festival. Also there I see two poems from Miriam Darlington who was at the 2007 Arvon Lumb Bank course I attended.

One of the tutors at that course, Colette Bryce, is reading and conducting a workshop at this week-end's Dun Laoghaire Poetry Now Festival. The reading is on Sunday. Another Poetry Now connection with the magazines is the fact that the only poet represented in both magazines, Irish poet Harry Clifton, will also be reading in Dun Laoghaire with Lithuanian poet Tomas Venclova on Friday 27th March 8.30pm

Last year Harry Clifton's collection, Secular Eden: Paris Notebooks 1994-2004 (Wake Forest University Press), won The Irish Times Poetry Now Award last year.

This year's Award shortlist is Colette Bryce Self-Portrait in the Dark (Picador Poetry); Ciaran Carson For All We Know (Gallery Books); Leontia Flynn Drives (Cape Poetry); Pearse Hutchinson At Least For A While (Gallery Books); Derek Mahon Life on Earth (Gallery Books).

Robert Pinsky gives the Poetry Now Keynote Address, The Fate of the Modern, tonight at 8.30 pm. From 1997 to 2000,Robert Pinksy served an unprecedented three terms as Poet Laureate of the United States. Pinsky will talk about how what he calls the “mighty tide” of modernism sets an example of poetic commitment and engagement to meet the challenges from a cynical age. I hope to be there.

Poetry Cornwall

There has been discussion recently as a result of the Cork based magazine Southword deciding to cease as a print magazine and become an online magazine only about the decline in the numbers of print based literary magazines.

Since our Writers Group publish a magazine with poetry and prose I'm interested in other similar small magazines. Ireland does not have many of these but the UK has a large number.

In the most recent issue of Boyne Berries we published a poem by Les Merton who is the editor of Poetry Cornwall/Bardhonyeth Kernow and as a result I got a copy of the most recent issue of Poetry Cornwall. This is published three times a year and the latest issue is issue 24. It costs £3.95 and has forty pages.

Poetry Cornwall accepts poetry from around the world. There is an interesting mix of poets, styles, and subject matter, this issue has around 70 different contributors. While the magazine has a local Cornish bias with at least half of the contributors based in Cornwall it does have a number of contributions from elsewhere in the UK and some from other parts, Switzerland, at least four from the USA, one from Poland represented. There are none from Ireland in this issue but the editorial does mention that poetry in Irish has been published in the past.

The poems are a real mix of styles and forms. There is a nice mix of rhyming forms and free verse. Topics are not in any sense exclusively Cornish even among the contributors from Cornwall. Some items that caught my eye include "Fuschia Hedges" by Isabella Strachan - "They run beside us /like curtains whipped along their tracks" and another take on the digging metaphor for writing poetry in "Digging" by Peter Day - "poets dig into/ the squirming world".

Unlike many magazines where there is a one poem per page rule this magazine fits as many as possible per page. One nice feature of the magazine is the number of short poems including some haiku that are included. Each poem has to fight for attention on the page.

The publication has the feel of a magazine with a number of features rather than just a collection of poems. There is a regular Meet the Editors feature which in this issue deals with the Dawnthreader quarterly literary publication which specialises in myth, legend, lanscape, nature, spirituality. Its editor is Dawn Bauling.

Les Merton, poet is the editor and in his editorial he points out that he has published poetry in a language other than English. He lists an impressive number of languages which have been published in the magazine. These poems are translated into English, and the Cornish language Kernewek. In this issue the other language poem is in Yiddish by Lev Barinski. There is also a poem in Cornish by Tim Saunders.

The magazine's website has details on purchasing, subscribing and submitting.

Bob Dylan is in Europe

Bob Dylan and his Band started their European tour with concerts in Stockholm on Sunday and Monday nights. The setlists have been rich with old favorites and rarities but the highlight occurred the first night when Dylan broke out "Billy", a song he never before played live. The performance, audio only, is on YouTube at the moment. This song was part of the soundtrack for the 1973 "Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid" Western directed by Sam Peckinpah and starring James Coburn and Kris Kristofferson. Bob Dylan, who acted (though that may not be the correct word in this case) composed multiple songs for the movie's score and the soundtrack album was released the same year.

He played seventeen songs each night and of these fourteen were different the second night. This tour ends in Dublin on 5th and 6th of May. I'll be there both nights and maybe at a UK concert as well. Tour details, set lists and reviews here.

The other Dylan news of course is the new album. More details are trickling out. The album title is Together Through Life. The release date in Europe is Monday, 27 April. The cover artwork is a photograph by Bruce Davidson.

Dylan's 46th release is his first studio album since 2006's Modern Times and it's making was prompted when he recorded a track "Life Is Hard" for the forthcoming film ‘My Own Love’, starring Renee Zellweger and Forest Whitaker.

Comments after a first listen here. Best site for all Dylan news is expecting rain.

My Primrose

My primrose has appeared again. Lots of daffodils and crocus showing off, tulips and bluebells on the way but the appearance of the single primrose is an event.

I bought seed from the well known suppliers, Barnhaven Primroses, sowed it and waited. Primroses are not easy to grow from seed and nothing appeared for a few years. Then last year there it was - a primrose. This year in fact I have two primroses, another has appeared. Something very reserved, shy, fragile about the primrose, possibly to do with that pale shade of yellow.

A number of good poems about primroses also including ones by Coleridge, Donne and Kavanagh. Mention of Kavanagh reminds me that the annual poetry weekend organised by the Patrick Kavanagh Centre in Inniskeen, Monaghan takes place from Friday, 24th to Sunday, 26th April 2009.

Peter Goulding Launch

Peter Goulding is launching a collection of his humorous poetry “A Flash of Orange” next Tuesday 24th March from 7.00 – 8.30pm in Blanchardstown Library, Dublin 15 (opposite UCI) The book has a foreword by RTE’s John Creedon and a cover design by Paul Fegan. Peterwas a prizewinner in last year's Swift Satire Competition which we organised for the Swift Festival in Trim. You can read his poem here. We also published one of his "serious" poems in Boyne Berries 4. He attended and read on the night.

His humorous verse has appeared in newspapers, books and periodicals throughout Ireland and the UK. He won the prestigious Strokestown Political Satire Poetry Competition in 2008 and is on this year's shortlist again. He was formally poet in residence on RTE’s The Creedon Show
and he is also has a regular column in The Community Voice newspaper, for whom he also writes the Arts pages. A keen supporter of League of Ireland football, he is poet in residence at Shelbourne FC.

Unfortunately I won't be able to attend as it clashes with our Meath/Cavan LitLab meeting but best of luck Peter.

A Poem for Saturday

This poem is included in the latest issue of Boyne Berries. It was written in response to numerous arguments in our writers group as to what exactly defined a poem. It was awarded second prize in last year's Goldsmith Poetry Competition. The judge was poet Jean O'Brien who herself won the 2008 Fish International Poetry Award.

What is a Poem?

I remember my cat, caught between the wheels
of the Tubbercurry - Sligo evening goods train
staring at me through spokes, then dying.
I remember my father taking what remained
for burial in the wood. When I got over it,
I searched all week but never found the grave.

I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten. What is the question?

In fact that bit about my father is not true.
I can’t recall my parents’ presence and probably
was alone there, curiously watching, helpless.
Though someone had to open the level crossing
gates. My recollection is that at the time
I was too young for that responsibility.

And my father would have been at work
or if Saturday on the turf bog somewhere
between cutting and stacking. Either that
or at his field of hay near Finnegans.
So maybe it was mother who was gate
watching, saw me, wondered what to say.

I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten. What is the question?

But the grave is certainly a lie. The dead
cat was taken quickly but without ritual,
dumped in the wood which ran from our shed
to the lane by the spring well. The wood -
overgrown with briars, boggy where a drain
refused to drain - my childhood playground.

But had he been there he would have buried
the remains under a cross made from kindling
kept in the shed to coax the range to flame
each morning between October and April
and in a cold year, like that very cold year
in which I was born, well into June.

I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten. What is the question?

Michael Farry

Launched!

Relief! Last night's launch was very successful. The fog did prevent one or two contributors who were travelling a distance from attending but there was a good crowd there, a mixture of our own members, locals and writers who travelled some distance to be with us. (Above: myself, Pat Dunne and Paul Egan, our chairman.)

Pat Dunne performed the launch and gave an interesting, at times amusing, account of his writing career from school boy days to the present. His novels have been translated into eleven languages. He complimented the group on the magazine.

We had sixteen readers who read their contributions. All were appreciated by the audience. What was especially impressive was the range of styles and content. Tony Bailie came from County Down to read his poem "Wake", Geraldine Creed from Dublin read her story "Vis a Vis", Brid McDonnell and John Noonan from County Louth read their poems.

Sales were good and we even had an offer of sponsorship for future issues. All in all a great night, good feeling that another magazine has been completed, contributors are happy, we have an audience for readings and we can look forward to the next issue.

In the meantime there's the Swift Satire Competition and the Boyne Readings/Open Mic event to organise.

Boyne Berries Ready to Launch

At last the boxes containing the latest issue of our group's magazine Boyne Berries have been collected from our printers ePrint and are safely in my possession. So we actually have something to launch tomorrow night. We expect about eighteen contributors to be present to read their pieces and who knows how big of an audience. We usually have 50 to 60 people but there is always the doubt that this could be the flop with few present.

Pat Dunne is going to do the official launch. He is a Trim born internationally-selling author with four novels published to date. His novel, A Carol for the Dead, the first in a series of thrillers featuring the Meath-based archaeologist Illaun Bowe, has appeared in paperback in English and in addition has been translated into eleven other languages. We look forward to his contribution to the night.

The cover by Greg Hastings based on the churchyard at Tara looks very well. It's the first of a series of four, that's if the magazine can keep going for three more issues. We publish twice a year, no problem getting submissions the problem is finding the money to produce it. We got a small grant from the Meath Arts Office last year which helped.

Anyway we're looking forward to tomorrow night, good prose and poetry, friendly faces and the company of fellow writers. All welcome, no admission charge. Castle Arch Hotel, Trim 8pm.

Happy St Patrick's Day!

To mark the day why not listen to and look at John McCormack in colour in an extract from a film of 1936, Wings of the Morning. This was the first British Technicolor film and starred Henry Fonda. Its plot was intricate, set in Ireland during a span of 50 years, involving gypsies, horse racing, and life amongst the gentry in rural Ireland. McCormack made a cameo appearance as himself in an informal concert sequence unrelated to the story. He carries the black notebook which he usually used at concerts. The three selections were filmed during the summer of 1936.

Here is an earlier film of McCormack singing Ireland Mother Ireland in 1920. At the piano Edwin "Teddy" Schneider who was McCormack's faithful accompanist.

Eileen Aroon by Bob Dylan

Because it is the eve of St Patrick's Day I thought you might like to hear an Irish song sung live by Bob Dylan. The song is "Eileen Aroon" which he performed live at 11 shows in 1988 and 1989 at the start of his "Never Ending Tour". Here is audio of a performance at Jones Beach Theatre, Jones Beach State Park, Wantagh, New York 30 June 1988 . He usually included a traditional style song in his sets at that time. He never recorded the song as far as we know.

Youth will in time decay
Eileen Aroon
Beauty must fade away
Eileen Aroon
Castles are sacked in war
Dhieftains are scattered far
Truth is a fixed star
Eileen Aroon.

Presumably he learned it from the Clancy Brothers who had recorded it in 1961 on their LP Clancy Brothers & Tommy Makem. Text of the version sung by Dylan and more information here.

Swift Satire Competition

Boyne Writers Group has just announced details of their 2009 Swift Satire Competition for satirical work (prose or poetry) in commemoration of Jonathan Swift. This competition is being held in conjunction with the Trim Swift Festival, which takes place in Trim from Thursday, July 2, to Sunday, July 5, 2009.

This year's choice of subjects are topical:

A Tale Of A Tiger: Fat Cats Bring Down The Big Cat OR Banks and Bankers: A Modest Proposal

Entry fee: 7 Euro (or 5 pound sterling or $10) per entry. There is no limit to the number of entries, but each must be accompanied by the said fee. Cash is acceptable. Entries can be made online. Full details on the Group's website here.

Length: Prose: minimum of 600 words, not more than 800 words. Poetry: minimum 30 lines, maximum 100 lines. Prizes: 1st 500 Euro, 2nd 300 Euro, 3rd 100 Euro.

Closing date: Friday, 5th June, 2009.

Last year's inaugural competition and festival was a great success. you can read last year's winning entries here.

A Poem for Saturday

On a Vandalised Rear Window

Saturday’s sun
gleamed and glinted
through clinging shards
at the frayed fringes,
a dramatic display,
though temporary.

I have no interest
in redress or retribution.
Instead I rejoice
in the casual glitter
of the shattered glass
as it glances fire.

Diamond pieces
that spangle the seat
recall the ice that sealed
our school-going puddles
and invited heels to smash,
substituting chaos
for frigid cohesion.

Michael Farry

This poem was written as a result of finding one sunny Saturday morning that the rear window of my car had been broken during the night. Life is too short to worry or get angry about these small things especially when insurance covers it and the new glass is fitted on the spot. Is it just my imagination or was there more cold weather when we were young? Smashing ice on puddles in the pot-holed pre-tarmacadamed roads was always a pleasure then.

Poet Photographer Collaboration

What the Guardian describes as the first of a series of collaborations between poets and photographers, poet Sarah Maguire and photographer Martin Argles present an illustrated performance of Sarah's poem, 'My Father's Piano'. The poem is from her most recent collection "The Pomegranates of Kandahar" (2007), which was shortlisted for the 2007 T. S. Eliot Prize.

Text of the poem here.

Road Signs

Something very interesting and intriguing about road signs such at this. Something to do with the sentiments expressed so well by Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

There's the added interest of the Irish placenames and the variations in spelling which sometimes causes letters to the editor. This sign is delightful for two reasons: the misspelling of NAAS and the probable misspelling of Enfield. both are understandable, two "A" together in an English word - never! The original name for the second town appears to have been Innfield and this is still seen on signs and addresses. It was changed to Enfield probably because of the English place. This misspelling is a confusion of Innfield and Enfield and seems to be a once off.

Silent Film Festival

This week end a Silent Film Festival is being held in Killruddery House which is situated 20 kms south of Dublin, just beyond Bray in Co. Wicklow. The full programme is varied and interesting, these are some of the highlights.

Friday 13 March: Down Wicklow Way, Programme from the IFI Irish Film Archive / 6.15pm / €15. Sunniva O’Flynn (Curator of the Irish Film Institute) will present a selection of silent films made in and around Wicklow in the 1920s, 30s and 40s which are now preserved in the Irish Film Archive. Live piano accompaniment by Josh Johnston.

Saturday 14 March 11.00am: The Adventures of Prince Achmed made in Germany in 1926, 60mins, € 15. Lotte Reiniger’s elegant masterpiece is acknowledged as the first ever animated feature and uses shadow animation to tell a captivating story of kind ogres, magical flying horses and wicked magicians. Live piano accompaniment by Stephen Horne.

Saturday 5.30pm: Flesh and the Devil by Clarence Brown made in the U.S.A. in 1926, 112mins, €25. One of the few films to capture completely the magic of Greta Garbo, this film depicts a passionate romance between Garbo and John Gilbert (a romance that was also playing out in real terms). Live musical accompaniment by Stephen Horne.

Saturday 8.15pm: Sunrise Made in the U.S.A in 1927, 96mins, €25. Murnau’s magnificent film is not only one of the masterpieces of the silent period but is one of the most remarkable films ever produced. It screens here with its original score.

Sunday 15 March 4.00pm : Talk ‘An Introduction to the Silent Era’, 60mins, €20. An illustrated introduction to the silent film period with Special Guest to the festival Mr. Kevin Brownlow.

I probably won't make any of it in spite of being retired.

Retirement is . . .

. . . being able to watch most of a five day cricket test match. Especially when the time difference is advantageous as it is when the match is in the West Indies. They're just off in the final day's play in Trinidad with the match finely balanced.

I see a cricket test match as the epic of the sporting world, the Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained in one go, the Divine Comedy as against the lyrics of football matches or athletic events.

The strange thing is that while we see cricket as the typically English game, other countries have taken to it so well, West Indies, India, Pakistan, countries whose stereotypes would be opposed the the English stereotype. All national stereotypes are to be resisted of course. There is also some doubt as to the national origin of cricket, see today's Irish Times and this article.

I had expected some more cricket poetry to be available but it seems scarce. Some here and here.

Here is a verse from "Close of Play" by Georgian poet Thomas Moult (1893-1974)

For the last time a batsman is out,
The day like the drained glass and
The dear sundown field is empty;
What instead of Summer's play
Can occupy these darkling months
Ere spring hails willows once again
The crowned king?
How shall we live so life may not be chilled?

Picture is of the great Shivnarine Chanderpaul of the West Indies, an antidote to the loud, flashy cricket type he is slow, careful, steady, methodical.

Launch of Boyne Berries 5

The latest issue of our magazine, Boyne Berries, has been put together and sent to our printers. The launch is planned for Thursday March 19 in the Castle Arch Hotel, Trim at 8pm. Trim born novelist Pat Dunne will perform the official launch on the night. Pat is one of those behind the Swift Festival in Trim.

Everyone interested in writing is welcome to attend the launch. Especially welcome are the writers who are included in the magazine and they are expected to read their pieces. We usually have a very enjoyable evening with fifty to sixty people present.

The cover is as usual designed by Greg Hastings. After four covers based on images from nature this cover sees a change. This cover image is based on the church and churchyard at Tara, Co Meath.

More Bus Advertisments

The believers fight back against the atheist bus adverts.
News stories here, here, here and here.
At least it's a positive statement rather than the atheist's "probably" though the certainty itself has drawn criticism. Difficult to get it right of course. What about something like "I'm absolutely certain that there probably is a God".

On the other hand you could use the first line of this verse from Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah:

Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

You can download a part of a recent Leonard Cohen concert at the Beacon Theatre, New York, February 19, 2009 at this site. Scroll down it's on the left. It includes Hallelujah.

A Poem for Saturday

Grow Up Slowly
(For Cian)

What alarms me is anticipation
of your arrival at the age when
I will be asked to light the brass
lamp and in its snug shadows
tell you stories of Knocknashee.
It was a dark and stormy night …

I yearn for open-eyed attention
from you as from your mother
years ago, while I, intruding
from a previous millennium,
weave untidy yarns of children,
fairies and (of course) a donkey.

So grow up slowly and allow me
time to re-learn the craft of story
in the hope that I may tell one
flawless tale, tempting you to travel
with me to this imagined world
I concoct and occupy.

Michael Farry


Written for my grandchild Cian. I always enjoyed making up stories for my children sometimes told by the light of an old oil lamp from Sligo. Knocknashee (the hill of the fairies) is a hill in south Sligo.

Úna Bhán, Flaxen-Haired Rebel

Pat Devaney, a native of Co Roscommon, who now lives in Virginia Co Cavan has just published a second historical novel called "Úna Bhán, Flaxen-Haired Rebel". Pat is a member of the Meath/Cavan Arts Offices LitLab project and recently had a poem highly commended in the Cavan Caomhnú Competition. He has written four novels for teenagers: "Rua the Red Grouse", "The Stranger and the Pooka", "The Psychic Edge" and "Tribal Scars" and has had two collections of his poetry published, "Searching for Updraughts" and "Swan Pendant".

His first historical novel "Through the Gate of Ivory" was published in 2003 by Lilliput Press.

Many will have heard the legendary tale of Úna Bhán MacDermot of Moylurg and her ill-fated love affair with Tomás Láidir Costello. Her father refused to allow them to marry and Úna died of a broken heart. Tomás used to swim to Trinity Island to keep vigil at her grave, resulting in his death from pneumonia. He was buried beside Úna and two trees grew over their graves, when entwined to form a lovers’ knot.

Using the novelist’s license Pat Devaney paints a very different picture of Úna. Far from being
a “garden rose” or a “gold candle on the queen’s table”, he depicts Úna as “a courageous but
troubled young woman who demands to be treated as an equal in the male dominated world of 17th century Ireland. She became a rebel committed to driving the foreigners out of Ireland. Textbook accounts of the defeat of the Irish at the Battle of Ballintober in 1642 tell of a soldier pulling a cap from the head of a fallen Irish fighter revealing the concealed long tresses of flaxen hair of a woman. In his account of the battle, Pat Devaney identifies this woman as the dying Úna Bhán.

The narrative combines fine story-telling, written in an easy, pacy manner with vividly described events and characters. The novel is available in bookshops in Cavan and Meath and online in a number of places including here and here.

A review of the novel in the Anglo-Celt newspaper is here.

White House Reading

My reading at the White House Revival went very well last night. A good crowd, a nice selection of open mic poets with varied styles and themes including Boyne Writer Paddy Smith who accompanied me to Limerick.

I read for almost a half an hour to an audience of about thirty who were very attentive and responsive. Paddy is my reading advisor and I took his advice on introductions telling just enough to allow listeners to appreciate the twists of each poem.

The whole atmosphere is very friendly and supportive. Dominic and Barney are very good hosts and the local poets have a chat about poetry, writing and life in general. They really make you feel at home.

The ever efficient Dominic has already put a slideshow of pictures on his blog here (Choice of music appreciated!) and a video of me reading two poems on YouTube here. Thanks Dominic.

Back in Trim after 3am. Writers Group meeting tonight. We plan to start an open mic here in April. After last night I am even more enthusiastic about it.

Above: Barney, Dominic and myself.

Off to Limerick's White House

White House Poetry Revival reading tonight. Outfit chosen, route planned, set list finalised. Twenty five-ish minutes of poetry and introductions. A folder which includes must reads, maybe reads, and read only if they scream for more. Dress rehearsal went well, the dog responded well to most of the poems but very few tail wags. He didn't like the effort at comedy but I thought his reaction to it was a little overdone. Ah well those new tiles are very easy to clean.

More on yesterday's U2 blog here including a video of an adapted U2 song.

U2 Controversy

Protesters have demonstrated outside the Irish Department of Finance against U2's decision to move their tax affairs to the Netherlands to avoid paying tax on their royalties in Ireland. The protest was organised by the Debt and Development Coalition Ireland (DDCI) which campaigns on issues related to the developing world. The coalition contains such organisations as Concern Worldwide, Trócaire, Oxfam and various Catholic missionary orders.

U2 moved their publishing arm to the Netherlands in 2006 after the Government capped tax-free earnings for artists at €250,000. Previously, U2 had been one of the biggest beneficiaries of Ireland's tax-free status for artist royalties.

News items here, here, here, here and here.

So are they a business or are they artists?

New U2 album reviewed here.

Painting the Kitchen

After painting the ceiling it's the kitchen walls
Two coats, four hour gap.
Colour? Porcelain.
Porcelain? What kind of a colour is that?
One of these off white colours - the new magnolia.
I remember my mother putting green on our kitchen wall
and red and blue. Real colours. Real taste.
I know, can't do that now. Whites, off whites, creams
Invented names to make them seem better
but still insipid, drab, bland, tame, vapid.
Vapid? A thesaurus is a wonderful thing.
Anyway that end wall would be perfect
for a Last Supper or a Last Judgement.
I saw remains of a wonderful Last Judgement,
one of Buffalmacco's frescoes
in the Camposanto, in Pisa last September.
Had been covered over of course
like all Last Judgements -
still a few glimpses left.
Hell and the devils a real work of art.
Imagine . . .

White House Revival Poetry Reading

I'm the featured reader at the White House Revival Poetry reading in Limerick on Wednesday next. I'm putting together my "set" for the event. Difficult to choose poems. Greatest Hits? The latest masterpieces? It's a daunting gig with a history of fine readers. I visited there last November and read two poems in the open mic. They do the open mic section first then the featured writers. This means that the audience has heard quite a number of poems already and the standard has been set to challenge the guest.

A bit of humour in the poems would go down well but I'm afraid humour is scarce in mine. Something to think about for the future. Then there's the introductions. "This poem needs no introduction" is pretty bad. The audience who will hear the poem once need to be prepared so that they get full value form the reading. On the other hand you can't tell them all about the poem, no point in reading it then!

Anyway it's a challenge.

A Poem for Saturday

A Glass Floor In Slovenia (The church of St. George, Slovenj Gradec)

It took some concentration
to walk on the glass floor
without a thought
for the skeletons below,
their naked bones
and decayed grave goods.

I stepped with care at first
lest my shadow fall
on pelvis, skull or femur.

But listening to the glib guide’s
brief summing of their lives
encouraged heedless steps.
Nothing I do, misstep or dereliction
will disturb their sleep or mine.

Michael Farry


This was written after a visit to a small church in Slovenj Gradec, Slovenia where archaeological remains including graves, skeletal remains and grave goods were left in situ by archaeologists and covered by a glass floor in the church. Some information here and here and here.

The town was also the birthplace of composer Hugo Wolf.

The poem was published in Revival September 2007.

Retirement is . . .

being able to read three books at the same time.

A first poetry collection by Scottish poet, Andrew Philip, The Ambulance Box. I met him at the Arvon course two years ago. He blogs here.

I'm two thirds of the way through The Rabbit Omnibus by John Updike who died recently. Three of the Rabbit novels in this collection, Rabbit, Run; Rabbit Redux and Rabbit Is Rich. The other novels in the series are Rabbit At Rest; and Rabbit Remembered.

And just in case I was enjoying myself too much Meter, rhythm and verse form by Philip Hobsbaum. A concise but comprehensive survey. So I'll be able to say exactly what an amphibrach is.

First Drafts

In our writers group it has almost become a joke that when someone reads a poem or a story we automatically advise them to leave out the first stanza or the first paragraph. This usually improves the piece. The instinct is to write an introduction but it's much better for the reader to be thrown in medias res as the Latin has it.

In the spring 2009 issue of The Stinging Fly poet Colette Bryce, writing about first drafts, expresses this so much better: "The big front door - my original opening- will have been necessary for leading me into the poem, but once in, I no longer need it. I like the reader to arrive in the room, the 'stanza', as if by magic. No doorbell".

This is part of a special magazine feature on First Drafts by six writers each of whom takes a different view. One of the writers is Irish poet and short story writer Nuala Ní Chonchúir who blogs here.

Colette Bryce reads and gives a workshop at the Poetry Now festival in Dun Laoghaire at the end of March. Her latest collection, Self Portrait in the Dark, is reviewed in this issue of The Stinging Fly.

Ash Wednesday

The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech

from Ash Wednesday by T S Eliot. Read the full poem here. A Wikipedia article on the poem here.

In his Poetry Review article Poetry In A Post-Secular Age which I mentioned yesterday poet Michael Symmons Roberts writes: "Another timely and powerful approach is to risk a greater reach, bigger statements, so there has never been a better time to ignore the workshop cliché ‘avoid abstracts’. Rather than avoid them, reach for them and renew them, or change their terms of reference. Some of the more abstruse bits of doctrine can offer a language or image with rich potential for reinvention and retelling". Read the full article here

An Ash Wednesday poem by John Keble (1792 - 1866) here.

Poetry Review

Just got the winter 2008 Poetry Review the UK Poetry Society publication. As with other similar magazines I enjoy the articles and reviews as much as the poems. It does have three poems from Ruth Padel's book of poem on Darwin which I wrote about on Friday.

There is a link on the website to some (very little in fact) free sample content. However it does contain an article from a three article feature in the magazine called The ghost in the machine which deals with the relationship between poetry and religion. You can read Poetry In A Post-Secular Age by poet Michael Symmons Roberts here.

He speaks of the changes in recent times, "Christianity and Islam are growing very rapidly throughout the developing world, and a recent report placed the numbers of atheists worldwide at three per cent and falling"; "in the last few years a number of philosophers and sociologists have coined the term post secular to describe our current condition."

Another article is by Christian Wyman US poet and editor of Poetry magazine. He suggests that poetry can at times reveal not the extraordinary within the ordinary but the reality which is larger and more complex than we are able to percieve. He ends by disagreeing fundamentally with Yeats' choosing "perfection of the life, or of the work" - "these things - art and life, or thought and life - are utterly, fatally, and sometimes savingly entwined".

The danger when writing about religion and poetry or religion in poetry is ending up saying something essentially meaningless like "Poetry is religion" or "Religion is poetry" on the basis that poetry looks beyond the ordinary. This won't do I think. You could say the same thing about prose and art.

There has always been a difficulty with anthologies of "Religious poetry", the various titles reveal the problems - The Penguin Book of Religious Verse, The New Oxford Book of Christian Verse; American Religious Poems: An Anthology; Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse; The Poetry of Piety, an Annotated Anthology of Christian Poetry etc. Roberts says he has been asked to compile an anthology but is waiting to find a suitable title.

The three articles are thought provoking. In the third poet John Whitworth points out that while
most American religious poetry is devout most British religious poetry is not about doctrine but about a hope. The magazine also contains a review of the third book of poetry, Headwaters, by the Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams.

My Sycamore Tree Poem

Above: my sycamore tree.
Does the world need another sycamore poem? Probably not and certainly not if it's much the same as most of the others. Still the coffin idea may be original so I'll stick at it.

William Carlos Williams wrote about a young sycamore. Read it here. Another American poet on sycamores here.

Of course the sycamore tree can mean different things in different places, the Irish sycamore is not the same as the American sycamore. More here and here. To avoid confusion I'll call my poem Acer pseudoplatanus. That's the correct name and I like the resonance of the pseudo also.

Painting the Ceiling

my beard turns up to heaven; my nape falls in,
fixed on my spine: my breastbone visibly
grows like a harp: a rich embroidery
bedews my face from brush-drops thick and thin.

from Michelangelo's Poem: On the Painting of the Sistine Chapel.

I know how he felt. I've just finished the second coat of paint on the kitchen ceiling. Thankfully with modern ceiling paint there are fewer brush drops to bedew the face.

The colour is white, brilliant white as it says on the tin, not angels or hands touching hands just plain white. Someone gave me great advice about painting once he said "Always paint away from the light" or was it "towards the light" I forget. I just get lost on the ceiling, miss bits, paint different parts in different directions then have difficulty figuring out which bits I've painted, which bits have not been painted and which bits have been but have dried.

Remember these great lines by Franz Liebkind in The Producers: "Churchill! With his cigars, with his brandy. And his ROTTEN painting! Rotten! Hitler, THERE was a painter! He could paint an entire apartment in one afternoon! TWO COATS!"

Poetry while painting? Hardly though there is a great view of my sycamore tree from the kitchen window. I began to wonder if it could be used to make a coffin, mine actually. Not immediately you understand but whenever. Wouldn't it be nice to bring some of the tree with me. Then I began to think of coffins I have helped to carry. I must look up sycamore wood on the internet.

Well you do need some light relief when painting ceilings.
Wonder what Michelangelo thought about day after day.

Sistine Chapel here. More on Michelangelo here.

A Poem for Saturday

Ashes and Snow

That Wednesday I wondered at snow
flake-falling for an hour although
it was already early March.

Leaving behind a fouled track
I received the day’s memento, black
blotch on forehead. I recalled

seeing my father throw ashes
in the garden fifty years ago,
watching them sink through snow.

I was surprised: then as now
after the turning of three days
snow melts but ashes stay.

Michael Farry.

This is actually a poem for Ash Wednesday - next Wednesday. It was written in April 2006. There had been a small fall of snow on or near Ash Wednesday that year so I played with the image of snow and ashes.

I remembered my father throwing out the ashes in the end of the garden on top of snow.
The poem was printed in the UK magazine Carillon in April 2007.

Darwin: A Life in Poems

Charles Darwin was born 200 years ago this year and there have been many books and programmes to mark the anniversary. Poet Ruth Padel is a great-great- granddaughter of Darwin and has written a book of poetry about his life.
Irish Times review by Irish poet Seán Lysaght here.
Feature on the book here.
Includes this by Padel: “Poetry and science are totally connected, they both work by absolute hard clarity and precision. People use the word ‘poetic’ as if it means ‘woffly’. But it doesn’t. Poetry is fierce and precise and accurate, and it works by minutiae – one syllable against another – and also by clarity. And imagination, of course.”

Darwin: A Life in Poems is published by Chatto Windus at 12.99 in UK.
Economist review here.
Short interview with Ruth Padel and a reading from the book on the 12 February Nature podcast here.

February Poetry Magazine

The latest issue of the US magazine Poetry just arrived. Always interesting sometimes delightful, this is one of the most enjoyable issues recently.

It contains the usual mixed bag of poetry including a wonderful poem by US poet Michael Ryan called I Had A Tapeworm which starts thus:

I had a tapeworm, and imagined it
flat—paper-flat—like a strip of caps,
pallid red, a quarter-inch wide
with bulbous BB bullfrog eyes
peeking out of my asshole as I lolled
in a crowded fetid basement swimming pool

The issue features a collection of eight manifestos commemorating the centennial of the Italian futurists' manifesto. In 1909 pamphlets were dropped over the town of Milan containing Marinetti’s Futurist Manifesto. These manifestos are a mix of the serious, the half-serious and the downright parodic. They all contain gems of contention or wisdom.

Some examples
From Presto Manifesto! by A.E. Stallings:

The freedom to not-rhyme must include the freedom to rhyme. Then verse will be “free.”
All rhymed poetry must be rhyme-driven. This is no longer to be considered pejorative.
Rhyme is at the wheel. No, rhyme is the engine.
Rhyme frees the poet from what he wants to say.

From Manifest Aversions, Conceptual Conundrums, & Implausibly Deniable Links by Charles Bernstein

I love originality so much I keep copying it.
Immature poets borrow. Mature poets invest.
POETRY WANTS TO BE FREE. (Or, if not, available for long-term loan.)

The magazine can be read online here.
There is also a podcast here.

Last Word on the Atheist Bus Advertisement

Some enterprising internet user with too much time on his/her hands has designed a bus slogan generator site where you can put your own slogan on a bus. Thanks to bloggers Emerging Writer and Barbara who blogged it first.

Sony Music had the same sort of idea to publicise Dylan last album. You could add your own message to the cards in the famous the "Subterranean Homesick Blues" cue-card scene from the film Don't Look Back by D.A. Pennebaker. That's poet Allen Ginsberg in the background by the way.

Which reminds me that according to reports Dylan will release a new album in late April to coincide with his European tour. Great news. His last three albums have been widely praised as masterpieces. Read the rumours here, here and here.

Silent Movie Sligo 1919

Were you at the cinema last night? What film did you see? Did it address any of the major issues of the day?

If you had gone to the Palace Cinema Sligo 90 years ago on 16 February 1919, a Sunday night, you would have seen The Labour Leader. This 1917 silent British drama features a Socialist labour activist John Webster whose consciousness is aroused when he meets an unmarried, pregnant laundress Nell Slade. Webster leaves his society sweetheart and becomes a political activist. He becomes the first-ever Labour Party member elected to Parliament. By his side at this triumph is Nell Slade, who has long since become his bride.

Picture: Keir Hardie one of two Labour candidates elected in the October 1900 General Election. More history here.

The film is described as entertaining enough to please even those filmgoers who didn't agree with its political views. Fred Groves played the male lead and Fay Compton was also among the cast. She was to have a long acting career, one of her last major roles was as Aunt Ann in the BBC's 1967 television adaptation of The Forsyte Saga.

As well as the feature you would have also seen episode one of a new eighteen part serial called The Mystery Ship. Each episode lasted twenty minutes. There was also a newsreel called Irish Events which was filmed and distributed by The General Film Company of Ireland headed by Norman Whitten.

And you thought silent films were all slapstick and comedy!

Thoughts on Charity Collecting.

I spent some hours on Thursday, Friday and Saturday taking part in a charity bag-pack at Tesco, Navan for the charity Zest4Kidz. I chose the task of standing at the exit with the collection bucket actually collecting the money while others packed shopping for shoppers who in theory at least contributed money at the exit. Plenty of time to watch people and to think.

It is actually a very positive experience because so many people give money. Many apologise as they contribute - "Sorry it's not more". There is no way of forecasting who will contribute and who won't, stereotypes of age, dress, gender etc count for nothing. As I noted the last time I blogged on this a common practice is for parents to give money to children to put in the bucket. This is somehow heart warming, something to do with wanting to pass on the giving attitude I suppose.

And you meet interesting people. Most just contribute and keep going. Some pause and chat. I met a man who lived in East Africa for forty years. His children were born in the shade of Mount Kilimanjaro which he climbed in the late sixties. Much less snow on it nowadays. Another lady said "I was going to buy a bottle of wine but decided to give the money to the needy instead". In spite of recession the spirit of giving still appears to be strong.

Items about the snow on Kilimanjaro here and here.

Article "Recession Begins to Bite the Irish Charity Sector" here.

Caomhnú National Poetry and Short Story Competitions

Just back from Cavan where I attended the presentation of awards for the Caomhnú competitions. A very enjoyable ceremony. Presentations by the judges, Noel Monahan - poetry and Shane Connaughton - short stories. Above: Noel presenting me with my certificate.

These were the results:
Caomhnú Crannóg Bookshop Short Story Competition.
1. Eddie Stack - Bobogue. 2. Joan Power - The Landlord.
3. Patricia Byrne - As It Was.
Highly Commended: Eileen Condon- A Holy Terror; Eddie Stack - Granada and Me; Gloria Carretero - Red, Yellow and Ash; Declan Sweeney - A Silver Hammer.

National Poetry Competition:
1. Honor Duff - Hare's Breath. 2. Gavan Duffy - Violation.
3. Philip Quirke - Crab in a Rockpool.
Highly Commended: Brendan Carey Kinane - Derrygimma; Tony O'Dwyer - Dream; Michael Farry - Asking for Directions; Patrick Devaney - Siskin; Betty Cleary - January Thoughts; Honor Duff - King Hawk; Barbara Smith - The Dairy Shed.

Meath/Louth LitLab was well represented in the awards, Honor Duff, Patrick Devaney and myself are members. Boyne Writers Group were represented by Brendan Carey Kinane and myself. Nice also to meet Barbara Smith who blogs here.

Thanks to Cavan Arts Office for the event and for the very enjoyable and appreciated lunch.

A Poem for Saturday

This week's poem is "Consumption". It's on the Poetcasting website. Poetcasting is the brainchild of Alex Pryce, a 21-year-old poet and student of English from Northern Ireland. The site has audios - with short resumés and photos - of UK and Irish poets reading their work. I met Alex Pryce at an Arvon course in Yorkshire in 2007.

I read Consumption here. The text is here.
There is a nice mention of the poem here in an article on Poetcasting.

This poem is part of a series of poems telling a story based in Sligo in the early 1920s. Beatrice, the heroine, is recounting the decline and death of her mother from TB or consumption. It was shortlisted for the Sligo Scríobh Poetry competition 2006 and published in the volume “Scríobh Poetry Competition 2004-2006” by the Model Arts and Niland Gallery Sligo.

I'm using a picture of my grandparents Thomas Harrington (1898-1987) and Bridget Harrington (nee Gallagher) (1900-1932). They married in 1918 when he was twenty, she eighteen. Bridget died of TB in Cloonamahon sanatorium, Collooney on 15 August 1932 leaving a young family of two girls and four boys. One of those daughters, my aunt Margaret, is still alive in Sydney, Australia.

God's Direct Line Gone!

The poster at the Trim bus shelter advertising God's Direct Line (Tuesday 10 Feb post) has been replaced by another advertising the same service.

This is more like advertising as we know it - bland, cliched, uninteresting, dispiriting - using images and references which are so overused and unimaginative that the use of the cliches in advertising is itself a cliche. The image is ridiculous without being amusing - the coat and hat from the first half of the last century with the glass which relates to the end of the century before last. And the car?

No not in a bad mood today just dislike having to look at this rubbish. Just turn left and this is the scene. Ah that's better. Maybe this is God's direct line.

Valentine's Day Poetry

Valentine's Day approaches and poetry websites seem compelled to offer poetry or advice on writing love poetry. At least the American ones do. Both www.poetryfoundation.org and www.poets.org have features relating to the day but the UK Poetry Society website has only a link to a press story. This may change before Saturday of course.

Poetry Foundation has a feature called "Let’s Face It, Nobody in Love is Original" in which four poets, Adrian Blevins, Rebecca Hoogs, Cyrus Cassells, and Craig Arnold, discuss love poetry. They also give examples of their work. The best line in the article is by Adrian Blevins: "Poetry is not about how we feel, of course. It’s about how we feel about how we feel".

Poets.org has a Love Poems page which includes Poetry Valentines allowing you to email or print illustrated excerpts from love poems. It also has full text of a number of love poems by well known and less well-known authors.

So far the only related item on the UK Poetry Society website is the link to this story about most people preferring to say "I Luv U" by text rather than compose a romantic letter or poem to a loved one.

The Poetry Ireland website has a notice about a reading of love poetry in Irish in Whitefriar St Carmelite Church, 56 Aungier St, Dublin 2 at 10.45am on 14 February just prior to 11.00am mass. The poetry will be read by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill, Liam Ó Muirthile and Colm Breathnach with traditional love songs in Irish sung by Lorcán Mac Mathúna. The poems and songs come from the recently published anthology Filíocht Ghrá na Gaeilge/Love Poems in Irish, edited by Ciarán Mac Murchaidh and published by Cois Life.

Whitefriar Street Church, Dublin is where the remains of St Valentine are kept. Picture of his shrine from this page where you can get the full story.

Poem Published

I'm delighted to have a poem published in the current issue of the online WOW!Literary Magazine. This online magazine of poetry and prose is published by Wordsonthestreet in Galway. The poem is called Tomorrow and was written towards the end of last summer hence the mention of foxgloves and rain.

My first instinct when looking at a poem of mine in print on paper or online is to wish that I had spent more time on it. This is especially true if the poem is in free verse, if it is in a received form then there is I think a more finished feel to it. Anyway I think this one works reasonably well.

It's in good company. The magazine also has poems by well-known Irish poets Gréagóir Ó Dúill and Liam Aungier.

Wordsonthestreet is run by novelist and short story writer, Gerardine Burke and poet and fiction writer, Tony O'Dwyer. Both are also members of the editorial board of Crannóg Magazine since its foundation.