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A Poem for Michael and Christopher, After death of a spouse, Aging, Anahorish, Art, Bellaghy, Coming of age, Death and dying, Door into the Dark, Family, Fathers and sons, Loss, Memoir, Northern Ireland Culture, Personal Helicon, Poetry, Seamus Heaney, Soundtracks of our Lives, The Forge, Writing
walking round a space without seamus heaney
I thought of walking round and round a space Utterly empty, utterly a source Where the decked chestnut tree had lost its place In our front hedge above the wallflowers. It’s been a year, and it is still strange to type the words. Seamus Heaney is dead. There is still no way for me to convey the inestimable impact of…
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Art, Belfast, Belfast Peace Lines, Berlin Wall, Borders, Bruce Springsteen, Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band, Coming of age, Gaza, Human Rights, Kai Wiedenhöfer, Memoir, Northern Ireland, Photography, The Troubles, United States-Mexico Border, W.B. Yeats, Writers
‘peace comes dropping slow’
I always thought Robert Frost was very sensible to ask so plainly in a poem we had to memorize for school, why it is that good fences make good neighbors: Before I built a wall I’d ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offence. Something there is that doesn’t love…
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Friendship, Ireland, Irish culture, Irish Diaspora, Language matters, Phoenix Art Museum, Shel Silverstein, Social Media, Twitter, Writing
looking after Ireland . . . madeleine albright & me
The Voice by Shel Silverstein There is a voice inside of you, That whispers all day long, “I feel that this is right for me, I know that this is wrong.” No teacher, preacher, parent, friend Or wise man can decide What’s right for you– just listen to The voice that speaks inside. I’m finding that with age, it is easier for…
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my first sunday morning without Lou Reed
For as long as I can remember, I have known that Holly came from Miami, FLA and hitch-hiked her way across the USA; that little Joe never gave it away; and, that Jackie thought she was James Dean for a day. As young as I was when I first heard Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wild Side,” I cannot possibly have…