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  THIS poem The Mission is about the death of my nephew John Divine. I had met him on the prom in Galway about a month before this and he was telling me about how he’d like to do something to surprise his mother (my sister) for her 60th birthday.  We chatted for ages that… Read more »

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Of silver hair, and silver tongue that was the man we knew. And each one has their own story to remember him that’s true. Mine is of that trucker man who hailed from Castlegar. And being acquainted with him in Paddy Lydons Bar But your memories are your own ones, some will always come to… Read more »

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by Noreen Burke, Knockdoe, Claregalway That old man who can’t remember, think of him as your own Dad. For he was once a big strong man, but he’s now confused and sad. That old lady who repeats herself a hundred times a day, was once so very capable of making her own way. And the… Read more »

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It’s a dangerous game, I learnt the hard way I sit here with a back support Popping pain killers every 4 hours It looks so mundane, so safe To the young person so damn boring But it’s not, definitely not Lying in bed the night before Thinking of tactics, of tricks, of bids Of high… Read more »

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Dear God There is something wrong with me and I need you to sort it quickly You see I like this guy but don’t know how to get his attention He is mysterious, very quiet, but hot and drives me crazy with well you know what I mean Anyhow I will surrender this to you… Read more »

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Dark is the night and the moon asleep In an empty dock it’s a lonely beat, Eerily quiet the abandoned quay With an icy wind that has no lee. The cranes are silent all ships long gone, No one seeing passengers off or on, No more boat trains with passengers full, No famous liners with… Read more »

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Who is the man in the corn we’d ask, Why is he so forlorn sad and alone, Then granddad used to take us to task Saying, “because the seeds are all sown”. His task is to scare the crows away Who steal the newly sown seed, And works so hard all hours of the day… Read more »

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Farewell my old friend in your last sleep In a grave where the Clare flows past your feet, It isn’t your parish but I know you won’t mind, Your plot shared amongst your own kind. Friend of my youth from boyhood to man The last of your line—the last of your clan. We followed your… Read more »

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by Fiona Place for the Irish Times Black leather suites, American fridges Black and white wedding photo Wooden floors, all bedrooms ensuite Barbecue and trampoline in the garden Patio decking, drinks on the veranda 2 single beds from the social 1 small fridge, 1 oven no wooden floors, no patio a garden with a wire… Read more »

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It’s time to stand-to betwixt night and day As the god of the east sends darkness away, In grey mists of dawn amongst the bamboo, An alien wild world that few of us knew. A malaria tablet and a couple of salt pills, Washed down with rum the cure of all ills, Each man peering… Read more »

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This building has many secrets You will find it on the Dublin road just across from the GMIT a building that has seen it all from seasonal work parties to the graduation ball 175 rooms, a swimming pool, Jacuzzi, sauna, restaurant, bar all empty, full of secrets that will never be told it stands with… Read more »

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Disinfectant on tap Winter vomit warnings on walls Ebola advice everywhere One hour in A&E Red stained bleeding boy Still wants to play Parents just want a hug Two hours in A&E Australian sopas and US trash TV Supermac’s scent in the air Extended families taking up space Three hours in A&E Elbow at awkward… Read more »

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