Friday, April 21, 2017


But today I saw trees shyly showing The newest little green leaves As little birds held a meeting to discuss.

Sunday, January 1, 2017

The New Year

Like the roundness
And wholeness of an egg,
You could not make it up -
Its speckled curves.
The heft of it.

The new year is
The thing in your hand.
Entire. Mind-bending,
As it stretches and
Curves away from you.

I want my hand not to drop it.

Monday, October 31, 2016

The Reading

In the mock parlour room, people come and go.
No one speaks of Michaelangelo.
The words are thin and the wit is dull.
Arrogance saturates the air. No lull.
The Liffey water turns green, olive, matt black.
The lights upon it are buttered mosaic, forth and back.
The moment of grace is brief and it is bright.
It is sign-posted by no hot spotlight.
I want to drum my heels, point and shout:
Talent is here; talent is out.

This poem was originally published on the Poethead blog.

Sunday, October 30, 2016


I tuck myself into you.
The front of my knee
Fondles the back of your knee.

You tip your shoulder back,
Nudge my shoulder.
Hey you, you say.

Happiness is a little slip of a thing.

Published by Wordlegs in their Spring 2014 issue.

Friday, October 21, 2016

Friday, October 14, 2016


this is the third dry year and 
this year is the deepest 
of the dry years

the commentator says
as though dryness were a well
sinking down and down

into eventual wetness
taking me rustily 
down and down in a bucket

mouth parched body humid
waiting and wanting
the eventual to be now

for the dip, float and gush

First published in Skylight47 in April 2016

Friday, October 7, 2016

Advice Given To Soothe The Sore Heart

Leave the thing alone for as long as you can.
Don't scratch at it.
Try a hot water bottle 
Sandwiched between a pillow and your back.
Don't wear mascara on nights out.
Feel a mess for a while. That's ok.
Drink lots of water. 

Friends will donate hugs, if you ask nicely. 
Ask nicely.
Don't ask why. Or do ask why
But leave the answer sit on the counter-top.
Leave it settle.
Pour it down the sink. Go for a walk.

Leave the bloody thing alone for as long as you can.
When it happens, engage and hold the eye contact 
That your fear begs you to avoid.
No one can see your legs shake.
The heart was not meant to stay soothed. 
Love again.