Anne-Marie Glasheen

Free

 

Oh to have danced to have soared to have reached up to catch the passing eagle to
be carried caressed by the wind and the sun

Oh to be weightless and wantless and wordless all feeling just groaning with
pleasure

Oh to have danced to have skipped to have defied gravity and floated down onto
the back of the she-wolf and gone with her through forest and plain up the
mountain and back again to dance with her young to roll on the earth to whisper
in the grass

Oh to have danced to have dived to have floated carried by the current in the warmth
of the sea to where sea-horses gambol in seaweed and coral to sing with the tides
rocked by the seven to heaven

(from Walking with Angels; first published in Heart of Kerry, Tralee, Ireland, 2003; in Lines in the Sand, Bradshaw Poets 2008)

War & Peace

 
i.m. Private J.C. Irwin who died aged 18, 31 July 1916

mrs irwin mourns her son
gone too early to his july grave
now kitted out in white
jaunty beret and all
to attention he stands
in his ghostly brigade
for ever to die in the war
to end all wars

how many hopes
mother
must be buried
till war
is killed at last

(from Walking with Angels; first published in Fire, Issue 24, October, 2004; in Lines in the Sand, Bradshaw Poets 2008)

poetry in English (selection)

The last time I was here

 

i.m. Paul Quaglia

The last time I was here
with you
laughter rang in the lantern glowing night
and celebrating children ran
and sang and chewed on treats

The last time I was here
with you
we sat by warm windows in tearooms
that echoed our political rage
watched by photographs of those long gone

The last time I was here
with you
your startled camera blinked in my direction
as I worked my way
through hats and rolled another cigarette

This last time I am here
with you
you tell me you are dying and bury your head
in wasted hands and stare at the cancerous core
of your world then check the mirrored ghost
in search of the past

(first published in Second Light, Newsletter XIV, November, 2003; in Lines in the Sand, Bradshaw Poets 2008)

The Feather

I planted a feather and a bird grew
and flew to heights
inaccessible

I planted a curl and a girl grew
and touched the stars
unattainable

I planted a word and a poem grew
and shed pearls on a world
irredeemable

(first published in Running Water, June issue, 2004;
in Lines in the Sand, Bradshaw Poets 2008)