tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92126876473706066802011-12-07T23:17:29.416ZBio: I have been writing poetry for a long time now with some modest success :) I have had poems published in several anthologies (eg Where the Hazel Falls, Jane Raeburn Anthology) and magazines (eg Asia Geographic) as well as in online e-zines (eg Poetry Life and Times, Prairie Poetry) etc. Some of my poems including Beltaine and Death of the Hero have been adapted for performance by various groups in Ireland, Uk and USA. New: PAGAN PAEANS Cafepress.com/paganpaeansGeraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.comBlogger2221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-20697352627621044792011-11-01T15:02:00.002Z2011-11-01T15:05:59.413Z

Exciting news! Calling all poetry lovers, Inga Brigitta's collection In and Out is almost ready for release! Details of how to order will be posted on http://www.ppppublishing.com - it will retail at £8.95 plus postage from cafepress, or will be available in Ireland from PPP Publishing, and direct from the poet herself in the UK.This is the ideal xmas gift for poetry lovers, or just for yourself.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-46350035283827448432011-10-21T13:44:00.003Z2011-10-21T13:50:20.211Z

Written this morning in the Stephen's Green as my one year old slept happily in his Bugaboo, all wrapped up against the Autumn bite. There is nowhere quite as pleasant as the Green on a quiet Autumnal morning.In Dublin, it is a treatto find a seat in the Stephen'sGreenNear the fountainson Constance's SideWhere if you sit quiet and stillOn an Autumn MorningChill in the air, and Leaves fallingA

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-81984041074463979692011-10-11T16:19:00.001Z2011-10-11T16:19:27.106Z

http://thebalancedwitch.com/family/legacy-these-acts-make-you-immortal/Delighted to contribute a piece to The Balanced Witch blog - this is my piece on motherhood and the spiritual journey. Read and comment, and support a lovely blog/site.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-78433087054265925372011-10-11T16:17:00.001Z2011-10-11T16:17:19.922Z

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-37392828349862570632011-09-28T16:17:00.001Z2011-09-28T16:17:29.206Z

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-29087061639759910552011-09-17T16:25:00.002Z2011-09-17T16:28:24.490Z

For Ronan, for 25 years.Transparent Years25 years agoOn the concourse of UCDOr hanging in the students unionWe were arrogant and lostIn impossible measuresTransparent in our voicesIdeals worn with cynical prideTitling at dragons and chasing dreamsAngst and alcohol, side by side25 years ago,you became a sentinel in my lifeprompting me when I stumbledone of the foundationsof who I am.We have both

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-79493939432081853692011-08-31T09:37:00.003Z2011-08-31T09:43:08.233Z

Inspired by Immrama, and the bringing of meditation and journeying techniques into modern life In search of a lost girl The summer of my youth was spent In smoky pubs; making rain While the sun shone. On and on, I traversed the lines And wasted time like golden coin. How to glimpse again the vanished day? Travel through the shades and speak To my younger, lost self? And take her by the hand

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-36463785572518838392011-08-05T10:51:00.003Z2011-08-05T11:13:16.729Z

This is an old one; I found it recently online and thought, well if it's on other sites it should get a place on my own blog...I have mixed feelings about it, it is a poem written about the claims of old friends who are no longer friends. It was written for someone I knew in my teens and twenties, a very different place in my life. WildernessWe were lost for a while, despite mapsYou looked into

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-58479095121244758402011-07-30T11:03:00.003Z2011-07-30T11:09:38.181Z

Just ordered a new book of poetry from Robert Lee Brewer, the second of his collections. "Escape" should be good, if it's half as good as "Enter" I'll be happy. Anyone looking for a good book of modern poetry, check out his blog (click on the title above) or twitter @robertleebrewer. It's only $10 plus postage. Enter was an excellent, well selected, cohesive collection and a thoroughly enjoyable

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-49108324965787223102011-06-28T12:28:00.003Z2011-06-28T12:33:10.096Z

Well Charlie himself will be interviewed on Italian TV soon; he's no stranger to print and radio interviews although this may be his first TV one. Some favourite interviews over the years have included one he did for the students in Rathmines College of Commerce, a radio documentary for Lyric FM on buying a first violin and a wonderful print interview (later part of a book) by Rose DOyle for the

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-32809491975276835672011-06-23T13:52:00.004Z2011-06-23T14:04:13.546Z

There is an excellent segment on the Joe Duffy LIVELINE show on RTE radio one (today Thursday 23rd June 2011)about the Doctors and medics being held, tortured and falsely accused in Bahrain.You can listen to the podcast if you miss the show: just visit rte.ie and look for Liveline and then for Thursday 23rd June show. If I have time I will post a direct link later.http://www.rte.ie/radio1/

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-19656232677325479262011-06-22T15:13:00.000Z2011-06-22T15:13:22.040Z

Beaker Folk of Husborne Crawley: Oppress Stonehenge's Neo-Pagan Hippies: GuardianThis is an excellent blog post from"Archdruid" Eileen - while I personally hold no brief for the modern "Druid" and some of the antics surrounding sacred sites by the tree hugging hippy neo-Druidic movement I think this sums up why we all have to make room for other people's beliefs and practices. Well written and

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-2927032575071032532011-06-02T09:31:00.002Z2011-06-02T09:55:57.529Z

Anyone who writes with an eye to alternative spirituality should check out Pagan Writer's Community on Facebook and also the new website on http://grou.ps/paganwriterscommunity/An excellent resource for esoteric writings, pagan poetry and fiction and to connect and interact with other writers.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-41034738592828935482011-05-31T10:30:00.003Z2011-05-31T10:35:58.766Z

Listowel Writers Week start June 1st and runs to June 5th inclusive; it boasts a great programme of events and lots of variety - theatre, poetry, novels - with readings from great authors including Neil Jordan. Ronan Wilson and more!check out http://writersweek.ie/ and consider a different Bank Holiday Weekend !

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-23521826361095472022011-05-28T10:12:00.004Z2011-05-31T11:35:18.519Z

To read the poem from the John Murray poetry competition, check out HERETo listen to it being read by Pat Boran, and hear the other excellent entries and the winners check out HERE (the poetry competition is 6th down the page)Many thanks to everyone who emailed or twittered how much they enjoyed the poem and thanks for all the extremely kind comments. I think you'll really enjoy the standard of

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-58443842290716799282011-05-26T09:18:00.002Z2011-05-26T09:27:59.942Z

Well, I am very pleased with myself this morning. I tuned in to listen to the results of the poetry competition, hoping that someone I knew might have done well. They read out about four or five poems, including the category winners and a sample of commended poems. Imagine my utter delight when the judge read out my poem Aisling and commented on it. The standard of entries was so high, it was a

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-58111821107703155322011-05-25T09:35:00.009Z2011-05-25T09:51:12.455Z

This is a poem for the medics arrested in Bahrain as part of the brutal clampdown on pro democracy demonstrators; some were arrested for their politcal prodemocracy views and others for helping injured demonstrators in the street. They are falsely accused of inflicting worse injuries on patients than originally suffered. The charges are cruel, injust and downright lies. Some of the Doctors will

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-77873371697039049482011-05-12T11:54:00.000Z2011-05-13T20:38:45.953Z

Tomorrow is the closing date for entries to the John Murray Poetry Competition on RTE radion one in association with Listowel Writers' Week.The theme is Ireland 2011 and the poem must be 20 lines or less. There are three categories, two for school goers and one for adults. Read the submission guidelines at the link above.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-69821985225911716232011-05-07T16:57:00.001Z2011-05-07T16:57:48.379Z

Just heard of the death of a friend; she hadn't been around in the last few years but I have very fond memories of her charm and elegance. This is for her.Ladies' day August in DublinFor her was hatsShoes and otherSartorial excessesBut mainly hats Ladies day at the RDSSore shoes on inexperienced feetI complained but she laughedSuffer for fashion, ladiesThe rituals of ladyship She took seriously

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-70186674948952475022011-05-04T13:40:00.001Z2011-05-04T13:40:43.214Z

Just a reminder that there are still a few days left in which to enter the inaugural John Murray Show Poetry Competition.Full details here at http://writersweek.ie/uncategorized/rte-john-murray-show-poetry-competition The theme is Ireland 2011 and it is held in conjunction with Listowel Writers Week.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-2199333121738762752011-04-09T14:49:00.004Z2011-04-09T14:58:07.851Z

How do you see me? he asked I paused. At nineteen how do you answer that? How do you say, I cannot describe you? He was, we were, wild beauty rocks and mountains and waterfalls or we were urban decay wasteland and wire fence I remember those days through a haze of nostalgia the least of them pulsates like a beating heart lifeblood of experience I was unknown. You were unspoken He was unformed.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-38455683852517856362011-02-27T22:03:00.001Z2011-02-27T22:03:02.456Z

I stood with you on the edge of rainDeep In a forest in a foreign land We danced between two states of mindSun to storm, hand in hand Leaves made dappled patterns on the pathRivers formed beneath our glancing feetWe circled stately like twin stars Cheek to cheek, the twain did meet

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-77797865052572865962011-02-06T19:57:00.001Z2011-02-06T19:57:52.015Z

She dances like a waveUndulations leaving ridges In the sands of time She dances like long grassSighing before the windBending low to kiss the earthShe dances to the songOf larks on the wingWheeling free against the sunShe dancesAnd the world stands still

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-2292530441664351862011-02-05T21:02:00.001Z2011-02-05T21:02:21.438Z

Invisible hands Move branches Lift fallen leaves Throw handfuls against my windowCounterpointTo rain hitting glassHitting slateDancing on metalWind howlsWild joyful screamsLow moans of painFinding hidden passagesCreeping through gaps To place cold fingersOn your cheekYou stir You sighYou shiver Safe indoors

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-27737046406686956242011-02-04T13:45:00.003Z2011-02-04T13:59:31.543Z

For obvious reasons I have had no time to write in the last 4 months; but there's one piece of rhyme I have composed ! This is what I sing to my 4 month old baby boy. I doubt it'll stand as my greatest poetic work but he seems to like it.I have the best baby in the whole wide worldhis name is darabeanhe's the best babythat you've ever seenI love my baby and my baby, he loves meWe both love Daddy

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-13515579729510232662010-09-01T13:14:00.000Z2010-09-01T13:16:48.555Z

September unfurls with quiet charmThe first palette of coloursto paint the year's end, tell the taleof descent into Winter's cold arms....Protesting Autumn, calling out- Joy and warmth and ripenessstill abide! Dance with me onemore time, before the leaves fall.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-6065667803857572402010-08-06T15:32:00.001Z2010-08-06T15:36:18.189Z

A man on an escalator, did something silly; and reminded me that underneath the suit can be an innocent heartUnderneathHe's suited and booted;shined shoesSharp dresserserious man.On the down escalatorbusy eyesbalding headbeing in charge.Reaches out one handtips the metalmakes it singsmiles a little smile.Geraldine Moorkens Byrne

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-183239660144872322010-07-30T11:06:00.000Z2010-07-30T11:07:38.191Z

The Murder of ClionaCliona sits by the shoreSinging songs of love and lossLike any underdressed lady of the sea;passing as one of them, the myths and nymphsBrushing hair with comb and boneWhile all the time, counting waves.The Ninth one is still hers. She yetrides the horses of the surfAnd Mannanán calls her from the west;It would be best to returnnot wait and hide and hopefor cornucopias of

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-70706392245107053152010-07-29T16:20:00.002Z2010-07-29T16:22:18.349Z

Well It's a bit later than promised but I think you'll agree, well worth the wait!Thanks to almost epic levels of incompetence on behalf of Ireland's leading phone and internet provider, I've been without proper BB access for weeks now, and it's been a struggle to get even the basics done.However the power of poetry and creativity triumphed in the end aided by a very high level of excellent

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-35692564857221990322010-07-29T13:17:00.002Z2010-07-30T11:06:20.138Z

IMG_2616Originally uploaded by GerCMByrne. I love Motorway art; next to the new statue of Fionn Mac Cumhail and Hounds at Newbridge this is my favourite...the silver tree en route to Wexford.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-72606928338076005562010-05-21T11:37:00.003Z2010-05-21T12:48:05.541Z

On stony ground, You fall like rainWhen I walk the hard pathand stray, distracted by storm cloudsyou walk with me.I know it is your hand thatpulls me back, steers me towardsgrass verges.When I am blinded by the sun,and fear I will not find my way againyou call my name.It is your voice I recogniseover the howling winds andscreaming gales.When I can find no rest or shadeit is you who shelters me,

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-8158689281424770872010-03-16T14:13:00.003Z2010-03-16T14:18:32.252Z

When St Patrick met the DruidSeeing is believing, but reallythere were no snakes to start withIt's not a miracleto drive away the invisible.He was a gaunt maninflamed with the need to provehe was no swineherd;Patrician of Irelandrefusing to acknowledge an OllamhA Doctor of Knowledge, a poet.He has no subtlety of wordsbut speaks quickly without reflectioneager to fill the space between usWith

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-56709545612761635452010-03-06T13:59:00.001Z2010-03-06T13:59:10.886Z

IMG_3084 Originally uploaded by GerCMByrne. That wild coast still calls merock and nook and inletwave upon wave, from the timemy father's father stood every grain of sand filteredthrough a dark hourglasscalling me back, pulsinglike the blood in my veinsGeraldine Moorkens Byrne

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-25394436434523009922010-02-10T16:22:00.003Z2010-02-10T16:29:21.999Z

Poetic Challenge for today is to write a love poem.I have written several poems about the love of my life Toast and Belgian Chocolate; An Apology to Aongus Óg and This of Small Virtues for example.Seeing as Valentine's Day is almost upon us, this is a small but heartfelt one for Himself.Love poemIf he is tired, I only wantTo smooth the lines of his dayAnd hold him safe.If he hungers, there is no

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-33392522088379315682010-02-09T16:14:00.002Z2010-02-09T16:18:35.200Z

And now for something completely different. This is a poetic challenge from Robert Lee Brewer - essentially to write a sestina using 6 favourite obscure or at least less common words. Now being a total dunce at this and never having attempted a sestina before I made a fundemental error - I thought the end words of the lines had to be rotated in order. I didn't realise they had to be rotated in a

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-68864841338075486682010-02-05T15:09:00.000Z2010-02-05T15:10:19.209Z

In the GapsIn the gapsbetween notes, he playsa different tune,changes the keyand makes us dance.In the silencehe creates shapes;a space for dreamsthat hits us like wavesand makes us sing.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-76215339161943337182010-02-02T17:56:00.001Z2010-02-02T17:58:05.367Z

Deep in the nightBetween last ordersAnd first lightGods wander the cityStealing dreams.Pass them by,If you see themDo not stop or stareDo not dare themThey are not at play.They own this groundFrom slick kerbto guttered edge andIn between.All the spaces.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-41862836429812552722010-01-30T15:39:00.003Z2010-01-30T15:42:19.802Z

iGirl on city street, heels clicking shiny hair, gleaming lipseyes glinting in the smokey lightsiren song in her strideiiBoy on corner smokinghaloed under streetlight's glowwatches the lilt of a girl's walkbreathes her in like airforgets to exhaleiii Cold grey sky can liethe tell tale signsone green shoot, rooted in dark soilone new blade turned toward a wintry sunBridget comesivhope -

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-79055363768439176162010-01-11T16:59:00.004Z2010-01-11T17:12:13.503Z

Snow in Dublin IIAt midnightWe found ourselveswalking a borrowed dog,in a worldof white, frostedunder a diamond sky.We were silent;overawed bythat still cliché of snow ,not a soundexcept the crispbreak of sparkling cold.There is ice,buried underthe soft clean white.No stepis quite sure,so you take my arm.We arealone, intrepidyou, me and the borrowed dog.We are safein this world,under jewelled

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-49725803755639331452009-12-09T12:57:00.003Z2009-12-09T13:01:21.546Z

http://www.paganpoetrypages.comThe PPP is delighted to announce that thanks to the success of the Poetry Anthology we have an excellent prize fund for our Yule Competition.First Prize will be a beautiful Fountain PenPLUS a £20 Amazon Gift Voucher!!There will also be 2nd and 3rd prizes of £10 gift Amazon vouchers!The competition is open to everyone. The closing date for entries is December 24th

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-30091625289821909942009-11-24T14:29:00.005Z2009-11-25T12:58:27.649Z

November Pad Challenge Prompt #1: Take the phrase "Everybody says (blank)," replace the blank with a word or phrase, make that the title of the poem, and write the poem.Prompt #2: Take the phrase "Nobody says (blank)," replace the blank with a word or phrase, make that the title of the poem, and write the poem.Everybody says HelloI remember getting lettersscrawled on torn notepaperdelivered to a

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-50637642843993767212009-11-23T17:47:00.002Z2009-11-23T17:59:01.549Z

For the November Pad challengeA poem filled with noiseI hear ya.Hiss of fire, (gas, so no crackle no shift of turf or coal, but still,warm and comforting)Hum of dryer, the kitchenfilled with moist damp airwhirl of washing in machine(old machine, with choasin its spin cycle.)Nextdoor neighboursshouting kids and loudRumanian curse wordsand baby screams. (Missthe quiet of our Polish and Frenchcouple

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-19931474955428071532009-11-21T16:09:00.005Z2009-11-21T16:19:28.935Z

Another for the November Pad Challenge :Todays prompt is "Invention"I make myself upI make myself up every morning;It's all just invention and lies.I draw in a smile on my faceand then I shade in my eyes.I invent who I am every dayA new face for each dawn, anew.My mood is reflected in changes;stamped, in colours and hue.I am a tissue of fictions,a collection of fables and dreams;I create a new

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-77216756859995257972009-11-20T16:44:00.000Z2009-11-20T16:45:45.112Z

And then Earth turns.She swims in the cold ice riverOf time and space, across the eonsLook at me, she says, extendingOne flawless limbLook at me, I am so cold and tired.It will never end, this journey.She sighs as the stars flash bySilver trout in a crystal streamHow cold you are, they sayAs they pass, How cold it isShe catches one on her long eyelashAnd it freezes like a diamond.Look, the others

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-20261754792820611482009-11-12T16:13:00.002Z2009-11-12T16:16:13.509Z

Day 12 of the November Pad Challenge - write a poem with the titled "if only"If Only She'd Listened to Granny"That wolf is a nuisance,"Granny often said,hanging around like a tame dog.Don't pat him, don't feed him,don't let him sleep on your bed.Granny is old and has seen thingsshe knows how the wild things are;she won't let them into the house -she won't sweep the hearth after midnight -she

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-60644063770872226222009-11-12T14:13:00.002Z2009-11-12T14:16:26.135Z

A poem I wrote some years ago; it was included in the anthology Where The Hazel Falls (Electric Publications) ; it was inspired by several traditional burial practices including Tibetan Sky Burial http://www.zmescience.com/other/the-sky-burial/-----Lower me not,into a crimson mouthed coffinunder mahogony coversa secret tucked awayLower me notinto damp clayweighted downby marble greySet me

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-32780067389814088412009-11-11T15:40:00.002Z2009-11-11T15:49:02.712Z

My "constuction" poem for the November Poetic ChallengeOne word at a timeI built a bridge once.It crossed a river, where water crashed whiteon rocks and jagged edges.I built it with words.the first word fell on muddy land and sank- it was hello, just hello.I threw another word.It took so many, one balancing on the otheruntil some settled on top.Then I used bigger words.Words that formed sentences

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-38611658017474829432009-11-07T14:22:00.002Z2009-11-07T15:02:24.979Z

My "Plant" poem for the November poetic challenge What Is It?"What is it?" my husband asked.His faith in my knowledge was touching;I can grow herbs and tomatoesbut am a mass murderer of houseplants."I don't know." We both stared -it was a weed, or a baby tree or a flower.That much at least was clear."Should we dig it up?" he mused.It has reddish leaves and a long thin stemand looks innocent,

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-45639205598788484512009-11-04T16:07:00.003Z2009-11-04T16:10:30.123Z

Another from the excellent Robert Lee Brewer poetic challenges My effort for a Maybe poem...Maybe Not.I did not knowwhen I first saw youthat you had nothingin your heartbut a sense of being apart,a line in the sand,a grudge and a complaint.Maybe to me meansit is possible,it might happen,something might be,could be, exists in potentiabut you always frown and sayMaybe not.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-33262747731726019502009-09-26T12:23:00.003Z2009-09-26T12:28:56.365Z

Twitter Fragments IIOrhow I feel on certain days....iThe city moves, a slow grumbling yawnshoppers drifting in lazy knotshigh heels and blowdried hairrituals of consumer gleeiiDublin awash withpost Arthurian hangovers; spotted - more than one walking woundedwith Guinness pallor.People with very shaky hands.iiiAutumn encroaches on the last days of SummerFat old woman, ripe in gaudy colourpushing

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-73679361360356438612009-09-12T10:24:00.003Z2009-09-12T10:28:05.693Z

On the pitiful sight of a man whose pursuit of power leads him to renege on his own solemn promise to quit political involvementThe Returned PoliticoHow sad a sight, the unwanted suitorPleading to be taken back, swaggeringAs if he was invited. What tattered ragof dignity he once owned, to warm himin his leaving is cast now aside to betrampled under muddy feet, as the mobrush to mock and be

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-52956655396589287032009-09-05T11:18:00.000Z2009-09-05T11:19:56.267Z

Hidden JesterGrief comes,in glancing blowsstealing up at tangents -shards of promise, taut with loss,might have been, should have been.Nothing direct or clean;but sharp cuts and sudden hurtsfrom shadowed corners.Strange friend,thief, despoilerrelying on one saving grace,one charity of memory, doled out.Taking more than giving;a parasite of living;poisonous flower, spreadinglike a weed.Hidden

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-8114882829520518522009-08-07T08:52:00.002Z2009-08-07T09:02:21.146Z

JOhn Hughes, director of the Breakfast Club and Ferris Beuller died today; as did Renato of Renee and Renato. MIchael Jackson is gone and Farah Fawcett.It's sad to see the icons you loved slip away; the era in which I grew up is now becoming history.The 80s are slipping awaythe 80s are slipping away,my teen years are fading.Neon colours, legwarmers,toners and shaders.I've missed Bueller's day out

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-87650363653555373492009-08-01T13:03:00.003Z2009-08-04T09:09:17.407Z

In honour of the day - Happy LughnasadhLughsitting in golden splendourbelly full and mead sweetenedLook down on these my friends,my clan, my peoplemy tuatha and my TirLugh, let sweet mellow daysbe their fill, and all the ripebeauty of your seasonleaven the approach of winterwith cider-apple and harvestand plentyand love.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-78488401942536575832009-06-13T09:30:00.001Z2009-06-13T09:32:26.277Z

I'm doing a thing on twitter where we post a small poem (under 140 characters) Some people do haiku, but I tend towards fragmentary three line versetwitter @gercelt also check out @twitlaureate, or search #poetry for more on poetry on twitterTwitter FragmentsiSilent house, paused between sleep and wakeand I the ghost, that passes in that spacepart guardian, part spectre at the feast.iiCold

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-32287929206042332972009-06-06T09:41:00.004Z2009-06-06T09:55:36.234Z

A comic offering from several years ago; part of a bantering exchange on the PPP site prior to it's apocolyptic crash. I was glad to find it; it reminded me of some good mates sadly long since moved on and some good times.It's in a similar vein to "The Committee for the Formation of a Pagan Creation Theory"Where Dwell The Gods?'Where o! where do the gods reside?the opinions are many, the theories

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-34442429008442168012009-06-05T09:25:00.001Z2009-06-05T09:29:03.646Z

For details on how to submit read hereNon Members - submit to editors@paganpoetrypages.comThemes: Well it's the summer solstice so that's one :) Summer, heat, the Sidhe, observing religious events, what astrological events mean to us....Poems, articles, journals, prose all welcome!!

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-45436892059458283442009-06-02T11:25:00.002Z2009-06-02T11:28:12.658Z

The city lying in a dazequieter than at midnightrocked gently in a hazeof shimmering on black tarmac -pavement hot to barefoot touch.Sun glinting on shining glassin spiralling reflection,casting prisms on the grassof gardens lulled by bee and mowerthe infinity of suburban summer.pottering in the garden shedTiny stirrings of family lifechildren still have to be fed -the alluring sound of icecream

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-20392887694929543192009-05-29T15:04:00.002Z2009-05-29T15:10:30.790Z

I just found one of my poems was posted on a certain wellknown neo-nazi website - posted by a member as if it was one of their own, no accreditation to the author, and no permission to post it. Not only a breach of copyright but theft. Although part of me is grateful that the nasty little moronic bigots didn't put my name on their filthy site.Just so we're clear, nothing would ever induce me to

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-77878302834193918882009-05-26T09:02:00.002Z2009-05-26T09:18:11.448Z

Religious orders responsible for abusing children in institutions want to deal directly with victims rather than reopen the controversial 2002 indemnity deal.This morning director general of the Conference of Religious of Ireland (Cori) Marie Ann O’Connor said the 18 congregations’ would prefer to “deal directly and to use all in their powers to channel whatever resources directly to the former

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-66055128132855794562009-05-23T10:58:00.002Z2009-05-23T11:08:12.114Z

Out of the corner of my eyesomething moves.It's nothing he says, nothing -everyone's eyes play tricks.he pours a glass, dark redrustling behing meit's a good year, full bodiedand licks his lips.I shift in my chair, listening -shadows crawl.Taste this, just a sipCloying, too sweetBreath on my neck, stirring(hackles rising)touch like cold meat on skin(teeth baring)Out of sight, Out of mindhe never

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-36718001147676895592009-05-20T13:57:00.003Z2009-05-20T14:02:38.021Z

My very own Poetry Challenge - feel free to join in :)Pick a news story; as current as possible (same day as reading this notice if possible) and write a poem about it.Include the link to the news story too.please feel free to leave a comment on this blog linking to your own poem!--------------------------------------------------------------OSCE argues against blasphemy lawTuesday, 19 May 2009

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-63589803665492411972009-05-19T10:40:00.001Z2009-05-19T10:40:57.550Z

RTE.ie News reports: An Bord Pleanála is to hold a public hearing into a revised onshore pipeline route for the Corrib gas project in north Mayo.The application is being made by Shell E&P Ireland, which is also seeking a compulsory acquisition order to gain access to private lands.The hearing into the revised onshore pipeline route will get under way in Belmullet this morning and is expected to

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-29584535807074596232009-05-16T12:51:00.001Z2009-05-16T12:51:52.594Z

Photos The Perils of Publishing Poetrysee larger image uploaded by GerCMByrneCreated by GerCMByrne | add commentCreated by GerCMByrne | add commentI founded a poetry site in 2000, the Pagan Poetry Pages, to provide a space for poets whose influences and interests were non-conformist. With a loose brief of "poetry reflecting our interest in spirutal and metaphysical themes" we

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-77346760786891246352009-05-16T11:19:00.002Z2009-05-16T11:38:53.635Z

The Prompt is to write a poem on a Spring themeSignsSlight touch of green lifethe first blush of budthe seedlings sproutbefore the ides of Marchthe rain falls in fat tearsthe sky clears to egg bluethe air smells of earththe light changes dailythe season rushes forwardthe sap rises high

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-90053371010076680012009-05-15T14:03:00.003Z2009-05-15T14:05:40.282Z

Bealtine Edition is now available....including the results of the Pagan Paeans Launch Competition!Also register to enjoy the member's section - post poems, read, give/get feedback, join debates and enter poetry competitions

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-91646394026743713232009-05-14T12:34:00.000Z2009-05-14T12:36:01.596Z

Prompt : Take the phrase "Don't you (blank)," fill in the blank with a word or words, and make that the title of your poem. Then, write a poem using that title.Don’t you dare.Don’t you dare –I didn’t. I daren’t.I wish I was braver.I wish I could jumpFrom planes.Don’t you dare –I never told themWhat I thoughtI kept the peaceRegardless.Don’t you dare –I am not recklessI am the voice of reasonI am

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-17354217949596518822009-05-13T10:02:00.002Z2009-05-13T10:03:07.228Z

Another from the poetry challenge: write a poem using the prompt..."So we decided to go..."So we decided to……So we decided to goDespite misgivingsLike, it was free beerAnd although we didn’t much likeThe look of themWell, it was free beerThey were largely harmlessHuge shaggy youthsWith gangly limbs andAwkward. We stood to one sideAnd laughed a bitJust among ourselvesI danced to MorrisseyAnd tried

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-33379015679321995522009-05-09T09:01:00.005Z2009-05-09T09:41:34.930Z

See Writer's Digest blog Poetic Aside for details of prompts for each challenge: I am not doing them properly in order at all, but picking them up as they strike me. I am a bad participant :)This challenge was entitled "the problem with..." It resonated greatly with me for personal reasons. The Problem with YouShe has a list. I jest you notAll the things that - in her opinionI do wrong, say wrong

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-39778241229162025972009-05-09T08:57:00.002Z2009-05-09T09:01:14.093Z

Many thanks to poet Maureen Duffy-Boose for alerting me and getting me involved in this. It's great fun and while I won't do it everyday (I am far too lazy!) I certainly will be attempting it on a regular basis over the next month.Writer's Digest blog Poetic Asides is challenging poets to write on a variety of themes (prompts posted by them on the blog)Yesterday I did :A poem on something

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-39228187466010064572009-04-30T10:49:00.002Z2009-04-30T10:51:24.141Z

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Pagan-Paeans-First-Anthology-Poetry/dp/0956240305/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1241088504&sr=8-1It's a silly thing probably but there really is a thrill in seeing your book on Amazon !!Offically LaunchedPagan PaeansPublisher: PPP PublicationsISBN 978-0-9562403-0-9The first anthology of the Pagan Poetry Pages (The PPP) is now available. Pagan Paeans is a collection of

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-33840018576563980962009-04-15T09:55:00.002Z2009-04-15T09:58:38.588Z

http://www.cafepress.com/paganpaeans Now available (only €12 plus postage) from the cafepress site From May 1st, you can buy in Ireland or the UK (details to follow) but if you can't wait....then order from Cafepress and be the first to get your hands on a copy :)The PPP - bringing great poetry to you!

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-41006229457789102582009-03-26T14:52:00.001Z2009-03-26T14:52:04.305Z

"Inspirations"The Paganpoetrypages.com (The PPP) is proud to announce its latest poetry competition, to celebrate the launch of the first anthology of The PPP on May 1st (Bealtine) 2009.Pagan Paeans is a wonderful collection of poetry from the satirical and comic to the deeply spiritual.How to enter:On www.paganpoetrypages.com in the members forum, we've posted two images as inspiration - all you

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-56756835272380904642009-03-26T14:21:00.001Z2009-03-26T14:24:22.585Z

"Inspirations"The Paganpoetrypages.com is proud to announce its latest poetry competition.We've posted two images as inspiration - all you have to do is look and write a poem. The best , most original take on it wins!Launching the Pagan Paeans AnthologyThe winner will recieve a great prize; a £20 gift voucher for Amazon.co.uk/Amazon.com and a free copy of [b]Pagan Paeans, the first PPP anthology

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-78161924430682291642009-03-21T14:27:00.004Z2009-03-21T14:43:52.341Z

The Psalms of LivingI. I dwell in your heartI dwell in your heart, childthe old woman told me,I have no other home.There are places I have laid my headbut they were not home.I live in the way you laughin the things that make you cryin the days you have not yet lived,in the nights still to come;I inhabit these places, waiting.In your dreams I reach outin your hopes I find strengthin your memory I

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-14476644637307034172009-03-07T14:14:00.001Z2009-03-07T14:17:59.918Z

Inside TrackHe said: Seeing you againwas strange; in a wayI was not sure you existed without me.Tthat you have a life, a home, friendsthat you breathe and speak and thinkwithout my observing, I find odd.I often think of that now; that spacebetween intimacy and loss. I havelost friends and that abyss hurts.I wonder if they too assumeknowledge, privilege of being current;or if they feel absence.I

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-35852975956369687412009-01-24T11:30:00.000Z2009-01-24T11:31:40.929Z

SimpleIt was simple:-once upon a time,-it'll all be okay,-what doesn't kill you.Mundanities.Clichés.No hostages, taken or givenno price not worth payingfreedom defined by lack of,responsibilitiesties or attachmentsplans.Complex how timedefers paymentcashes the cheque at the last momentreaching into pocketstaking the ounce of flesh and to hellwith blood.Not so easy now.Not so simple, notso

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-79666118267745115742009-01-21T14:13:00.004Z2009-01-28T12:54:02.239Z

For all those women whose approach to weddings is not to mount a military operation, who don't want to stress, who want to remember the day and the marriage not worry if the napkins match the colour of the bridesmaid's knickers. And maybe as a reminder to those who are acting as if they're about to invade Poland next - there's more to the day than style.This is the best wedding gift I can give

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-26132400990345647072009-01-17T15:09:00.003Z2009-01-17T15:12:08.980Z

Up in the west of ireland on some hillside a few years back bad stormy weather caused a landslide that revealed bones of neolithic settlers, hidden for years. There's a storm almost as bad brewing outside and it reminded me of a poem I wrote ...so I thought I would share...Mud and BonesI lie in the dark mud of Connaughtin the cruel rocky earth of the Westwhere the sun sets low in the eveningand

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-63850058391276115482009-01-09T11:54:00.003Z2009-01-09T11:59:56.156Z

A poem about friendship: I have a friend, whom I have never met face to face, but whose friendship is real. It is real, because it has endured - differences of opinion, changes in our lives, deep loss, happiness. We sometimes talk daily, sometimes sadly, once a month or even less. Sometimes we chat on the phone, more often online. Sometimes I have confided in her things I could tell no one else,

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-86960957865238363792008-12-02T17:17:00.003Z2008-12-04T09:18:32.022Z

Decide now1.When Margaret calledI had my hands in washing upup to the elbowshair falling in dripsface hot and sweaty2.Is it oak orsomething lighter?what lining?I am winning the waron grease and remainsI do not wish to be thrownback into the heated debateLet someone else decide.I am paralysedin the face of briskefficiency;left swimming a bubbleprone to explosionready to pierce myselfand be

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-48071504053555261802008-11-18T16:14:00.003Z2008-11-18T16:17:01.772Z

...will be resumed after I finish Nanowrimo; so far I'm on scedule (day 18, 30101 words and counting) and as usual the plot has dived off the rails, the characters have lost the run of themselves and I'm having a laugh.Highly recommended :)nanowrimo.org - it's probably too late now but go for it next year - or read around and if you enjoy reading peoples novels donate to the very worthy Nanowrimo

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-31748381931725506172008-11-05T09:59:00.002Z2008-11-05T10:05:47.285Z

I'm doing Nanowrimo again this year.Nanowrimo is an excellent event, a mad manic "write a novel in a month" event. It literally is a chance to write a novel in one month, 50000 words is the goal. The point is to fling words at a page and enjoy the esperience of writing, rather than editing and rewriting and obsessing over what you write, though some participants manage to achieve both quantity

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-90795565612197955962008-10-22T13:07:00.003Z2008-10-22T13:12:00.628Z

From roughly the same "voice" as "Overheard in Dublin": this is a voice that is elitist, but honestly so, caustic and somewhat misanthropic. I thought posting another from the same vein of poetry might help to put "Overheard" in context...not as a literal expression of contempt or dislike but as an imagined and imaginative moment in life.Never read poetry as purely surface emotion (unless it's in

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-40976600389347151902008-10-16T13:37:00.005Z2008-10-21T11:37:43.949Z

For EmerThe last rose bloomsin rare weather; it takesrain and sunshine,good times deferredbad days and first frostand luck; good soil,good stock.The fading glory appealsto older eyes; wiser tastesapplaud and acceptits rich fragility,the final beauty adorningour autumn dayswith grace.It weathered spring stormsand summer torrentsthe sun's relentless beatingand the shadeuntil it put forth one

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-17072703332105459562008-09-25T15:43:00.001Z2008-09-25T15:49:49.442Z

Overheard'I gave her my old phone, she was stone delighted, 'the Navan man said:while his Cork culchie brethrenblew hot and cold into the headpieceall bluetooth and shiny smileschmoozing on the street.'He said he didn't but what do you think? 'a brunette pushes past me angrily'That little huir, I hope she's happy now-'she moves too far awayI am tempted to follow, I want to knowwhat did he do? and

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-51918369801052147642008-09-24T13:50:00.003Z2008-09-24T14:01:46.402Z

Ah the Recession: I'm not saying its a good thing - god knows it wasn;t a good thing in the 80s, when there were no jobs and no hope. But I confess to a certain amount of fascinated interest watching the kids who grew up in the boom come to terms - slowly - with the sudden loss of instant gratification. Here's hoping it lasts long enough to teach a few lessons and ends soon enough to spare them

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-74331525941492223672008-09-19T12:40:00.003Z2008-09-19T12:48:31.871Z

The Pagan Poetry Pages is seeking submissions from new and past members for their first Anthology due out at Yule; the submissions deadline is November 10th and poetry can be submitted along with a bio to ppp@anfianna.com. Poems should reflect the spirutal nature of the poet and/or a theme of nature, seasons, festivals and celebrations of spirituality. However all good poetry will be considered.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-76940503344759177212008-09-17T09:06:00.002Z2008-09-17T09:08:10.651Z

Down by Ben Bulben, the leaves are turningthe russets are emergingtriumphant over green, goldrunning riot, copper beechesglowing. Orange the wayside flowersand paler blue the sky -September is arrived.Down by Ben BulbenAs the road slopes to Leitrimthe Glencar lakeside boastscolours fit to clothe a king. The crowsstartle black againstthe spread of the year's last fineryas the sun crowns the dayand

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-57754222744561495752008-08-30T11:20:00.001Z2008-08-30T11:22:39.763Z

Beauty at DuskThe room is stilleddimmed by evening light throughshuttered blindsA perfect evening, summer springtreees laced with early leavesbright fields, sunlight on windowglassan empty roomand silencethe brightness of the dusk isblinding - more glaring than noon in dustand the silence splinters with shrill throated birdsand distant laughtertil the laughter and the song seem silent toopart of

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-68422292196142240992008-08-24T21:25:00.003Z2008-08-24T21:28:28.619Z

A little poem I wrote a while back about words, and their richness; incidentally I recently met online a user of a forum whose moniker was "pomegranate" and who turned out to be lovely. It's confirmed this word as one of my favourites :)I collect words;Collate and catalogue themin some library of the mind, to whichI get sporadic access, as the muse decrees.I hope if I store enough words, there

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-935396824316282142008-08-23T13:10:00.003Z2008-08-23T13:59:02.801Z

WOW thanks to AncestralCelt for a lovely shout out on her blog awards :) the rules of the award are....1. The winner can put the logo on their blog2. Link the person you received the award from3. Nominate at least 7 other blogs4. Put links of those blogs on yours5. Leave a message on the blogs nominatedI got two from the lovely AC, one for Scenesofireland and the other for Dreams of Reality, this

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-43108129821013223732008-06-26T15:04:00.006Z2008-08-24T21:09:36.394Z

This the final part of the Trilogy: It took a long time to write and wouldn't have been written at all, had not old issues and devilment resurfaced. The previous poems are hereArtistically I am glad - it's been a still birthed poem for a long time and as a poet, carthartic to release and finish. And it is part of but independent of the other two, as each of those are from each other.As a person -

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-11302106665946494082008-06-21T13:33:00.001Z2008-06-21T13:36:21.001Z

Mary bakes bread by the fire, stout hands kneading fleshy fingers tightening and rolling amid folds of white dough. The flames flicker higher on her forearms match the red sweat of her face, fan the flicker of hate in her eyes. Mary is not pretty; Mary is not slender; Mary is not elegant; Mary bakes sweet dainties for sweet dainty ladies who are everything Mary is not.Fire rises, fire warms, fire

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-58883959067330500692008-06-19T10:02:00.006Z2008-06-21T13:10:29.493Z

In Aid of the Green Belt Movement Rachel Mica McCann has produced and edited a lovely collection of women's poetry entitled Bridhid's Runes . Rachel describes the book as"'Brighid's Runes' is a collection of around 40 poems by over twenty women from various parts of Scotland, Wales, England and Ireland. The poems celebrate the sacred in every day life and our relationship with the earth. They are

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-44023101121704466272008-05-29T09:03:00.003Z2008-06-21T13:28:12.419Z

Asian Geographic Magazine asked last month is they could use an extract from my poem Where Once Stood Tribes Where once stood tribeswho rose and fellon the bounty of a living landsoul and soil intertwinedOne blood, one heart,of one mind,muscle and sinewrock and treeThree copies of the magazine arrived today; and I have to say I am proud of my involvement with it. It's as visually beautiful as

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-59095039368762322812008-05-22T13:47:00.002Z2008-05-22T13:53:12.246Z

It surprised me to seeSpirit imprisoned.We stood in the great spacethe sacred place of Romewatching the awe on the facesof tourists and pilgrims;and I looked up at Spiritand wondered, what did she thinkof it all?

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-31366019075604348142008-03-22T12:36:00.000Z2008-03-22T12:37:33.855Z

Irish Times, 17 March 2008Tara protesters parade in SydneyJohn Ingram, an Aboriginal man with Irish heritage, led the paradedressed as St Patrick in Sydney, writes Pádraig Collins .A GROUP opposed to the construction of a motorway near the Hill of Tarain Co Meath paraded past the Minister for Transport Noel Dempsey atyesterday's St Patrick's Day parade in Sydney.The Tara Appreciation Society's

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-73066300713564142842008-02-28T14:12:00.000Z2008-02-28T14:13:10.452Z

By Jeremy LovellLONDON (Reuters) - They may not leap off the shelves into the best-seller category, but the books shortlisted for the oddest book title prize certainly grab the attention."I was Tortured by the Pygmy Love Queen" recounts the tale of a fictional U.S. World War Two fighter pilot who is captured by jungle pygmies led by a sadistic woman.Its sequel, which is not on the shortlist

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9212687647370606680.post-48712080648187084402008-02-14T14:28:00.000Z2008-02-14T14:29:46.684Z

Your TouchThe warm smell ofsleep and heatsurrounds me with yourquilt, your bed;my hair spread like downacross your pillowand drowsy senses,reaching.Happy Valentine's Day

Geraldine Moorkens Byrnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01028922062605420928noreply@blogger.com1