Poem - Hocus POTUS

Hocus POTUS, nukes protect us
screaming walls and evil laws
torture chambers and fresh cabals
abra cadaver
macabre...




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Poets - Irish poet Ciara Ní É

He's Just Not That Into You by Ciara Ní É




Recorded at REIC - Bilingual Spoken Word, in Club Chonradh na Gaeilge 17/11/16.

https://twitter.com/MiseCiara
https://miseciara.wordpress.com/

a Protestant wedding

I met a Protestant wedding on the road, 

about 23 cars and 2 smiles..

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A few readers have asked me to clarify/justify this statement and I can quite easily by substituting the word Protestant with Free Presbyterian (although this is a hypothesis) and adding the small titbit that they were on the road to Monaghan. (which would account for their demeanour, regardless as to the occasion). 

As a sidenote it is becoming more challenging to issue off the cuff satirical remarks so it would seem (in the spirit of Tyrone's ongoing contrariness/resistance) that is the preferred strategy to adopt, for now. ;-)

It is worth noting that in the Irish poetic tradition

"..As officials of the court of king or chieftain, they performed a number of official roles, such as chroniclers and satirists. Effectively, their job was to praise their employers and curse those who crossed them.."

Irish bardic poetry

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catholics versus Mercedes

"in brand positioning terms catholicism is a lot closer to KFC than Mercedes"
..moi



..as a start to a new year perhaps it is useful  to begin in the manner in which one will continue - this is a year of take no prisoners...




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Months Mine Johnny Montague!

The month of respect has passed for the Late Great Johnny Montague!
..like a Patroclus stripped of his words he is accorded the full 30 days due to a hero.

He was what you see is what you get, meeting down the years he was so normal, irreverent... it was so refreshing when now in these times of poets wearing out their own mirrors.

He has now traversed the river to converse with Hades & Rhadamanthus and no doubt we will hear from him again in another guise...







..months mine = phonetic (Tyrone)

Poem - Reich Like

Who is speaking for our brothers and sisters, 
the Palestinians.
Very few it seems.
Only the odd heretic.
Children murdered mindlessly.
Revolutionaries assassinated arbitrarily.
The due process of law consigned and constrained,
Reich like.




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by Des Donnelly 14.Feb.2002

John Montague (1929 - 2016.)

John Montague 
February 28 1929 to 10 December 2016.

I am saddened to report the death of John Montague in Nice. I offer my condolences to his wife Elizabeth Wassell and daughters Oonagh and Sibyl.

"Il n'y a qu' un bonheur dans la vie,
c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé."

( "There is only one happiness in life: to love and be loved." - Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin)

Photos courtesy of  Niall Hartnett
http://www.niallhartnett.com/
http://www.imgrum.net/user/poet_portraits/2954021784

The lofty achievements of John Montague are, and will remain, a constant source of inspiration and pride to poets and writers everywhere and nowhere more so than here in Tyrone. This was one of our own. As he said himself;-

"..The truth was that Tyrone had not known a professional poet since the days of the O’Neills, and through my long literary apprenticeship I was harnessing an artesian energy from many silent centuries..."

He was a man of many places - Brooklyn, Paris, Nice, West Cork yet now finally returns to Garbh acaidh (Gavaghey) the 'rough field' of his childhood.

I still vividly remember reading “The Trout” from A Chosen Light 1967 and the line; 
"..To this day I can / Taste his terror on my hands.."

John Montague always had a twinkle in his eye and that certain unpredictability of what words would come out of him next. That genuine directness and honesty will continue to shine from his work down all the years to come. He is badly missed.

--

Des Donnelly, Poet, Co Tyrone.

Acknowledgements & References

I am indebted to Niall Hartnett for permission to use his photographs. 
http://www.niallhartnett.com/ | http://www.imgrum.net/user/poet_portraits/2954021784

Line from 'The Trout'

http://www.poetryinternationalweb.net/pi/site/poem/item/8075/auto/0/THE-TROUT

© 1995, John Montague From: Collected Poems Publisher: The Gallery Press, Oldcastle, 1995 ISBN: 1852351594

For those interested in learning more about the man and his work. 

http://www.ricorso.net/rx/az-data/authors/m/Montague_J/xtra/xtra1.htm

http://www.ricorso.net/rx/az-data/authors/m/Montague_J/quots.htm

https://vinhanley.com/2015/05/08/an-analysis-of-the-poetry-of-john-montague/

For those interested in learning more about Garvaghy the place and the bordering townlands: Altcloghfin to the east, Brackagh to the west, Errigal to the east, Gort to the east, Kilnaheery to the west, Rarogan to the south, Shantavny Irish to the east, Shantavny Scotch to the east, Tullanafoile to the west, Tycanny to the west

https://www.townlands.ie/tyrone/clogher/errigal-keerogue/garvaghy/
http://www.logainm.ie/en/1414254

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Poem - The Dying Tail

Assange, Snowden and Kim Dot Com
chased by the headless monster
lashing its dying tail...


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William Butler Yeats

On this day in 1865..

No doubt many have many favourite WB Yeats poems...

When You Are Old
       
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.











William Butler Yeats
Born: June 13, 1865, Sandymount, Ireland
Died: January 28, 1939, Menton, France

Poem - Palatic Paraplegic

Palatic Paraplegic

9.Dec.2014

when they said don’t come if you’re palatic

I wondered how fine was the line between palatic and paraplegic

I turned up with an electric wheelchair

completed blocked

my tongue lolling in my head

and me slobbering, literally not metaphorically

the bouncer security person, kind and considerate

waved me right in, no word about having drink taken

people generally smiled benignly

a few bending down to pat my head

then moving to another level

I wondered was wheeling me out the same as throwing me out

could I sue for ill treatment because of direction

I’m just palatic not paraplegic

I told them out straight but no-one understood the slur

--