Category: Northern Irish Women Poets

  • Blank pages and Other Poems by Ellie Rose McKee

      This Feeling   This feeling is a soft, slow touch A gentle trickle, A dying ember and a silent whisper   A glistening, glowing light A haunting melody, A sad smile and a quiet sigh   This feeling is longing Love and waiting wrapped as one The girl by the window Scanning the wide,…

  • “Something for Sunday Morning” by Maria McManus

    Something for Sunday morning If you took a chance And let those plates stop spinning, Stuck your hands in your pockets Or your fingers in your ears And stepped back – What would happen then? After all that clatter And when the shreds – All the broken pieces Were shovelled up Wrapped away carefully And…

  • ‘The Goose Tree’ by Moyra Donaldson

      The Goose Tree   ‘There are likewise here many birds called barnacles, which nature produces in a wonderful manner, out of her ordinary course.’ -Topographia Hibernia, Gerald of Wales   There are certain trees whereon shells grow, white-coloured, tending to russet.   Each shell contains a little living creature; like the first line of…

  • ‘Redeeming Faith’ by Kelly Creighton

    Redeeming Faith   My parapets were worthless assets I made, my sombre lookouts to watch for your leaving and ease darkness with dancing forms, outlined; no comfort for lost convictions.   My assurances were the altered me, to expand before you my existence and cut as you wished, joins that kept my heart, my soul…

  • ‘World Put to Rights’ by Kelly Creighton

    World Put to Rights The dream that burst riverbanks held you; blackstrap molasses, antidote for your poison. Your plummets spraying wetness like a coin in a cascade woke no-one, not even us. The church spire grew legs, scaled bricks, ran to your side, spotlighted. I put glass over that glow. Quiet-huff of your refuge, flailing…

  • 2013 by Aine MacAodha

    “The Chinese New Year 2013 marks the year of the Snake graceful and dark at the same time. As one year bows out to another I often reflect on past occurrences failures and wins, silly mistakes, see if I have learned from them. Death brought many clouds of grief at losing my brother so suddenly…

  • “Shelmalier” by Medb McGuckian

    Shelmalier. by Medb Mc Guckian. “Looked after only by the four womb-walls, if anything curved in the ruined city his last hour it was his human hands, bituminous, while all laws were aimed at him, returning to the metre of a star: like a century about to be over, a river trying to film itself,…

  • A Saturday Woman Poet , Medbh McGuckian

    On Not Being Listened To,  by Medbh McGuckian. You respect the flowers when they pass Out of your hands. You hold to words Because they have been said. You will Take two days from a fine little chain And hold them against me , every separate Thing remembered like the last day Of the year ,…