Tag Archives: Padraig O Tuama

Eliza Griswold (IF MEN, THEN) and Victoria Redel (Speaking About Men) – A Tough But Vital Conversation Between Two Poems

Prelude to a Massacre Twenty men crossing a bridge, into a village, is not a metaphor but prelude to a massacre. Marred by violence my mind begs forgiveness, self-conscious at its pattern of reprise. This old song can’t stop singing itself: If men, Then… The bright clatter of boots on the slats of a bridge, […]

Czeslaw Milosz – A Tribute – Part Two – A Poem to Honour the Men and Women in Ukraine in Wartime, February 2022

Here is the great paradox of poetry and of the imaginative arts in general. Faced with the brutality of the historical onslaught, they are practically useless. Yet they verify our singularity, they strike and stake out the ore of self which lies at the base of every individuated life. In one sense the efficacy of […]

Writing Poems for Wholeness and Self-Discovery – A Richard Osler On-Line Session with Huge Thanks to Micheline Maylor and Mount Royal University – February 16th, 6:30 Pm Mountain Time

ON THE TABLE IN THE ROOM IN THE DARK house lies the book you didn’t know you were looking for, opened to the page with the poem about solace you didn’t know you needed; at first the letters, then the words, little by little the lines disappear as you read them in the light of […]

Turn Stones into Altars and Everything Is Going to Be All Right – The Wisdom of Irish Poets, Pádraig Ó Tuama and Derek Mahon

So let us pick up the stones over which we stumble, friends, and build altars. Let us listen to the sound of breath in our bodies. let us listen to the sounds of our own voices, of our own names, of our own fears. Let us name the harsh light and soft darkness that surround […]

Liz McNally – # 1 in a Series on Patrick Poets – Poets I Met Through the Writing Retreats of Canadian Poet Patrick Lane

Collect for the Homeless God of the broken night. Finder of empty doorways, shopping carts, cardboard blankets, fast food refuse, cigarette butts, dropped coins and nick of time naloxone kits. May your infinite attention be the thin layer of softness between weary bodies and cold pavement, may it be a cloak to shelter children from […]