Elaine Feeney – In Montmartre with Degas

Who owns these hips                                these awful saucer over-lacquered eyes and abandoned pink-jellyfish-on-the-rock lips             this harsh-one-layer-mono does nothing for my double chin                                  but you already know that I’m...

Elaine Feeney – The Harvest

There is nothing in the old Tuam beet factory only a greasy fluthering of  Natterer’s bats and some gnawing weasels. Once the full silos were emptied...

Elaine Feeney – Oak

I’d like to spend Easter 2016 bird watching on the Isle of Wight. I will not be remembering shootings or blood. I will kill no bird. I...

Elaine Feeney – Mass

Mass will be said for no more bad language and gambling and wanking that the Athenry boys are doing, down the back of the...

Elaine Feeney

Elaine Feeney is, above all, a feminist. Her poetry examines the experience of being a woman in a patriarchal society, particularly in rural Ireland...

Dave Lordan – Cathechism: This is a Catholic Country

Q: Why were a hundred thousand children abused? A: Because this is a catholic country. Q: Why did the abusers get away with it? A: Because this...

Dave Lordan – Poem for the anti-Fracking Campaign

Beware the one who talks to you of your children’s future for he carries an Earthquake machine that will rubble the lives of your children. Beware the...

Dave Lordan – Tribute To Joe Strummer

  Your words were boots Joe, boots in Lewisham when black and white and yellow riot put down the Nazi scum, and in Trafalgar Square in ninety-one when the  fury of...

Dave Lordan – The Lost Tribe of the Wicklow Mountains

  I believe in them, so they do exist.   In the Wicklow Mountains It is easier to hide than you think.   Behind waterfalls. In sunless crevices. In densest rhododendroned foliage.   On...

Dave Lordan – The Impossible Paddy

Dave Lordan - The Impossible Paddy Painting by Alpini Gionatan When, following the big win- the real biggie- uncountable zeros after his name- he...

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Robert E. Howard – The One Black Stain

They carried him out on the barren sand where the rebel captains died; Where the grim gray rotting gibbets stand as Magellan reared them on the strand, And...
The North

Aoibheann McCann – Sanctuary

Limbo You will not tell me how you got here. You cannot tell me how you got here, but I do not even ask. Why...
Aoibheann McCann

Aoibheann McCann – One of those women

I brought on the bleeding seven times over the years before it stopped altogether. Miriam down the road, then her daughter, would peer out...
I am mine

I am mine [Io sono mia]

Sofia Scandurra (Rome, 1937-2014) is a writer, screenwriter and documentary maker. This is her only feature film, which is based on a feminist novel...

Wallace D. Wattles – A new Christ

This times I’ve decided to talk about a great book, yet still widely unknown: A New Christ. To those readers who may discard the book...