High above Muckross

Hey, the sun is back and I'm going to soak it up. Here's a poem about my second favorite county: Kerry.

High Above Muckross

Put me there
when I’m gone.
that place in Killarney
where cousin Maureen
and Aunt Kathleen
lay-high
above Muckross.

Where they
watch the
wild Atlantic
waves crash against
the cliffs

and white sea-foam
slides
across the strand
the way
a lover’s tongue
licks
the others spine.

forget the granite
headstone-
too hard and cold
for me.

Have Johnny
down the market
carve from
bog oak
a Bridget’s’ cross,

set it against
the bright
yellow glow
of whin.

let it
curl its
finger up
and beckon all


to breathe
this coconut scented
incense of
my grave.

have the fairies
fiddle from
fuscia petals
and gently
blow through reeds;

and don’t forget
to scatter shamrocks
around the whin
to tickle my
face and toes.

Theresa Daly

Help us out!

Project '06 Galway is revving up!! Checkout the parade committees' site: www.parade06.com. We are working from Munster Avenue and need help from Monday with clearing out the space for building the parade stufff!

If you pass Silkes corner, pass out the next 2 buildings(on Munster Avenue heading towards Supervalue), the first gate is the shed/wharehose where bodies are needed. Come on down and lend a hand. All ye 167 acts, should get involved somehow here, come on, if there was no Project '06, you'd be one less gig. So, help the hard working crew who were understaffed there today for the initial clearing/skip filling event.

Poem for today:


Whimsy

I wish forever could
be locked inside
your room.
Behind the door
that leads to separate
pathways, other doors
other lovers.

The soft whisper
of a breeze
gently tugging leaves;
the birds chirping,
scattered your
smile and gaze

as we giggled
goodbye on the corner.

the kiss
made up
for all that’s elapsed
between us recently.

Theresa Daly

Galway photos online

Flicking through flickr, the photo site, I came across what I thought to be a great photo/documentary site: Android Paraniod. Locals beware! Your faces are popping up across the web (and it's not me) but these are class portraits taken by an eye whose perspective clearly tells a story or immerses the veiwer in the mood and moment of the shot. The photos are public, so I am going to try and upload one. I am a new fan of this inspiring artist. Beause the work is more that pictures, it is art.

Under Hogan's Willow

Two women were talking in the shop the other day.

"Sure won't belong now till the races"
"That's right races and then the summers over"
"Right you are. Races, then ready for school, school opens and the shops have the Christmas stuff out"
"Agh now"
"It's true, I'm tellen' ya. Went to the shops last year for the Halloween gear,which they had of course; the very next row was lined with the tree decorations."
"Ah, go on"
"Honest to God"
"Sickening!"
"That it is"

There you have it, already they're talking about Christmas and it's not even July.

Here's an end of summer/autumn poem:

Under Hogan’s Willow

The lover’s cheeks
puff syllables
of loyalty pure,
bleached;

b’neath the shaded eave
of Hogan’s willow,

before the kissing ends
and the flailing of arms
the maiming of promises
begin.



Theresa Daly

Track

Yup, it was one hell of a summer. The rain has returned and all is normal again. Well, sort of...

Any way, not much to say, so will leave a poem that goes with today's weather





Track


The sparkle in the lough
has dulled, its luminous water
now mud green speckle.

Trudging up yesterdays
effortless path I pace this
landscape alone as I used to.

Once majestic reeds
convert to
choking weeds.

An empty space replaces you
in this lifelong version
of music-less chairs.

Again it's one
shadow cast and
paling in the waning sun.

Theresa Daly

Connection

Unbelievable!!! Another scorcher, another sunny day in Galway Bay. People coming back from their holidays are pale in comparison to the locals. Everyone is aglow; some red,some brown, but shiny and sunkissed. O.K. I'll stop. It's just such a phenomenon.

blogpoem for today:

Connection

The heart channel flies
open again
emotions thunder
through its chambers
as your breath reawakens
and connects to this frozen soul

which was locked
away for years
unstirred, yet safe.

You’ve broken through
the vault
of my heart.

The door is open
I quiver in the cobwebs of old fears,
try to shout
“I’m not coming”

powerless to resist
as you pull
me out to dance
again.

Theresa Daly

Hello Coastal Aussie

Recently, I blogged about an online freelance site that brokered projects between buyers and providers. Things such as copywriting and loads of web development,design stuff. Then I found similar sites. I have put in a few bids within buyers proposed budget, yet my competitors bids for alot of those projects were incredibly low and made by what seem to be; factories of writers. The prices they are quoting to produce the required bulk material conjured a 'sweat shop'image in my mind.

I had this urge to do a "Norma Rae", make a banner UNION and stream it across in flash-or something like that. So, thus far, doesn't seem to be the thing that'll work for me, but I'll keep looking and bidding for a bit. If nothing else, it gave me something to write about.

Now, that is only for the copywriting. I would not be able to know what value to place on other types of work.

Hello coastal aussie,

Thanks again. Yes, if you have the time to input those blog addresses it would be helpful.

Summertime

SSSHHHH... the sun is still here!!! This brain is intoxicated from three days of tanning,turning over on the blanket and actually breaking a sweat from the heat. I think there may have been about twenty days in the last 12 years that I have actually felt that warm from the sun. "Long may she run"

Flashbacks of summers past suddenly jump into mind. The eyes are blinded by all the bright coloured clothing that suddenly seeps it's way into the Galway canvas as grey woolies are tossed aside (but never put away).Murmurs of barbeques,open air parties, Film Fleadh, Project'06, Arts Festival waft from lips of many sipping and sitting at a sunny tables on Quay street.

I have a June related poem:




Lingering

It is early June
and the room is
filled with the scent of
shrub roses;
pink, red

left in a vase;
a plastic soda bottle
you'd crudely cut,
carefully placed
on the dinner table.

It is early June;
and the first day
since you've returned
to London.

The rose petals slip
from their flower
and still, it is you
I smell.


Theresa Daly

Cats

Amazing! More sun, yes; all day long and not a cloudstrip in the sky. Predicted for the next few days. There's nothing like Galway on a sunny day. The light, is hard to explain. Imagine the brightest blue, a big ball of sun spinning dazzling lace patterns of sunlight, and loads of 'happy shiny people'.

Needless to say, I'm going to run off this machine and soak it up.

Poem for today:

Cats

I wonder what they think;
the two of them sitting
face to face;
Gypsy & Zuzu

the two cats,
brother and sister,
incestuous parents,
lion & lioness.

Do they talk to one
another as we do?
You know, the gossip
the small talk.

Do they whisper
from their perches about
how stingy I am for not
overfeeding them?

Sneer at guests they
don’t like, figure out
who’ll go home
with who?

Do they intuitively know
what each of us is like
without inquisitive
conversations?

Or are they merely
the creatures they seem;
sleeping, eating,
ever preening?

Theresa Daly