Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Shadow
Shadow
Death
without death,
life
without life;
the ghost that
haunts me
has not yet
become spirit;
fully fleshed,
in human form-
he walks the town
all around me.
Theresa Daly
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
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
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
Saturday, June 24, 2006
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
Friday, June 23, 2006
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.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
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
"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
Sunday, June 18, 2006
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
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
Friday, June 09, 2006
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
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
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
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.
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.
Monday, June 05, 2006
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
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
Saturday, June 03, 2006
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
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
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Freelance on the Web
Well, the sunshine has returned and that's all I'm going to say about it for fear of scaring it away. Yes, the Party in the Park was in full throttle and the town was jammers!
But, I have been finding new and interesting things in the world wide web world. Surfed into a site called www.getafreelancer.com where a forum is used and people post projects on them to be picked up by freelancers. All of the jobs have to do with web publishing. My knowledge of all that is very new,and I am still learning loads of things.
They do,however seem to have alot of work coming in for copywriting as well.That is something I can do. After one day I was working on a possible project, but it hasn't been finalised. Pretty impressive so far. Will fill you in as things develop.
Has anyone out there worked with them before?
But, I have been finding new and interesting things in the world wide web world. Surfed into a site called www.getafreelancer.com where a forum is used and people post projects on them to be picked up by freelancers. All of the jobs have to do with web publishing. My knowledge of all that is very new,and I am still learning loads of things.
They do,however seem to have alot of work coming in for copywriting as well.That is something I can do. After one day I was working on a possible project, but it hasn't been finalised. Pretty impressive so far. Will fill you in as things develop.
Has anyone out there worked with them before?
Thursday, May 25, 2006
The Eyre Square Party
Yes, after nearly two years of mayhem, the Eyre Square construction was finally finished and this Saturday is the celebration. There will be all sorts of goings on and should be a bit of craic.
There are still many disgruntled people in town because of all the hassle the construction, cessation of work and finally completion by a second contractor had caused during the redesigning. Most people say they haven't seen much difference,and I must concur. I still think money would have been better spent on hiring a few more hospital staff and opening up beds that people on long public waiting lists can avail of. But, I know there must be red tape that probably says they have to use the money on only the one thing it's designated for and not being able to transfer it to another department.
So,this is something the council hopes to provide a "Feel good factor" with. Open air concert, parade, here we go-Summertime!!!
Do look out for volunteers from Project '06 who will be selling raffle tickets fundraising for the festival which has 138 programmed events across all artforms. Buy a ticket. Most of these events are created and performed by people living here in Galway, it's an amazing development for the majority of local practitioners. Project '06 has no funding from the government attached to it and needs all the local support possible.
blogpoem today :
MARATHON
Love runs
in all directions
around the
able bodied young.
What they know of love,
how to stay inside
the lane,
goes no deeper
than their
twelve or
twenty years.
It slips quietly in,
something finally
kicks;
it drags them
to their
knees.
Theresa Daly
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Claddagh Solstice
The other night a friend of mine came back to the house after having pint in Neachtains. He seemed a bit perturbed. Seems he was having a fag and conversation in Irish outside with another smoker.
Another fella (Irish accent himself)comes out and sneered a nasty comment about them
"Still speaking that foreign language?" and something about how they should be speaking English.
Needless to say,your man was barking up the wrong tree in the wrong town for that sort of comment because; from what I know, English is the foreign language. He was lucky in the fact that he was rude to two civilised Galway folk, native speakers.
So, wet noodle slap for the day goes to the fella who probably failed Irish on his leaving.
Blogpoem for today:
Claddagh Solstice
A hooker docked
in the basin
sways in the wake of wild swans
who nibble from the red
gloved hand of a tourist.
A watercolour sky;
streaked and spiked
with Monet’s light frames
the locals lifting lobster
pots talking simple talk-
this Claddagh summer solstice
In the distance, a silver bladed
windmill swirls as we amble
past a field of lemon yellow flowers
“cattle poisoning weeds ”you say.
A granite stone, sun soaked, shapes
a warmer seat than slate.
Talking endlessly, the conversation hovers;
we tiptoe beyond comfy boundaries
knowing we’ve tapped a fissure
in this fragile eggshell of intimacy.
Overhead a giant gull soars,
racing the cormorant to the sea
Theresa Daly
Another fella (Irish accent himself)comes out and sneered a nasty comment about them
"Still speaking that foreign language?" and something about how they should be speaking English.
Needless to say,your man was barking up the wrong tree in the wrong town for that sort of comment because; from what I know, English is the foreign language. He was lucky in the fact that he was rude to two civilised Galway folk, native speakers.
So, wet noodle slap for the day goes to the fella who probably failed Irish on his leaving.
Blogpoem for today:
Claddagh Solstice
A hooker docked
in the basin
sways in the wake of wild swans
who nibble from the red
gloved hand of a tourist.
A watercolour sky;
streaked and spiked
with Monet’s light frames
the locals lifting lobster
pots talking simple talk-
this Claddagh summer solstice
In the distance, a silver bladed
windmill swirls as we amble
past a field of lemon yellow flowers
“cattle poisoning weeds ”you say.
A granite stone, sun soaked, shapes
a warmer seat than slate.
Talking endlessly, the conversation hovers;
we tiptoe beyond comfy boundaries
knowing we’ve tapped a fissure
in this fragile eggshell of intimacy.
Overhead a giant gull soars,
racing the cormorant to the sea
Theresa Daly
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Draught
Rain rain rain. All day long! Big thick steady drops. Beware the monsoon on Raven Terrace outside the Weigh Inn, I saw a car go by and a wave of about two feet high just missed spraying a fella havin' a fag outside. So, I'm going to dig for a poem about the rain-God knows there's a good few in my book.
DRAUGHT
The rain sleeps
yet another morning,
another week;
there’s a thirst
in the fields.
It goes on
for ages
this July
and come
evening late
August;
A grey swell,
fingers clenched
rumbles across
the sky
squeezing
porous clouds;
It comes
again
this rain
that scents the air
and feeds the fields,
this time we
welcome it.
DRAUGHT
The rain sleeps
yet another morning,
another week;
there’s a thirst
in the fields.
It goes on
for ages
this July
and come
evening late
August;
A grey swell,
fingers clenched
rumbles across
the sky
squeezing
porous clouds;
It comes
again
this rain
that scents the air
and feeds the fields,
this time we
welcome it.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Promise
Promise
I promise to tell you someday
when I can let the words
slip through the gates of my lips;
when I’ve inhaled a
breath deep enough
to push out the words
if words are what it takes
to let you know
the depth of my love.
Theresa Daly
I promise to tell you someday
when I can let the words
slip through the gates of my lips;
when I’ve inhaled a
breath deep enough
to push out the words
if words are what it takes
to let you know
the depth of my love.
Theresa Daly
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Young Junkie
Fiercely trembling,
the young junkie
crouched in the shell
of his uncle’s brownstone stoop
at 70th and York.
He looked up at
the iron cast terraces
meticulously lined;
potted flowers,
exotic plants.
His pale skin glowed
in the streetlamp,
his face dampened
in a sheath
of sweat,
breathing shallow,
he remembered
going to church
on Sunday mornings,
listening to Fr. Kelly’s
homilies,
the round brown
eyes of his mother
when she’d sing
to him in
the tub
as a boy.
The young junkie shivered,
closed his eyes
and drifted towards
the light.
His mother’s voice
grew steady,
louder.
Theresa Daly
Fiercely trembling,
the young junkie
crouched in the shell
of his uncle’s brownstone stoop
at 70th and York.
He looked up at
the iron cast terraces
meticulously lined;
potted flowers,
exotic plants.
His pale skin glowed
in the streetlamp,
his face dampened
in a sheath
of sweat,
breathing shallow,
he remembered
going to church
on Sunday mornings,
listening to Fr. Kelly’s
homilies,
the round brown
eyes of his mother
when she’d sing
to him in
the tub
as a boy.
The young junkie shivered,
closed his eyes
and drifted towards
the light.
His mother’s voice
grew steady,
louder.
Theresa Daly
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Poetry Competition
Project '06 Galway
Voicebox Poetry Competition
Massimo's
10 William Street West
Galway
091 582 239
Voicebox will run as follows: 3 heats
2 categories Spoken Word/Reading Poets
Slam/Performance Poets
Heat 1-Reading Poets - Monday - 24th July-6:00 - 7:30pm
Heat 2-Reading Poets -Tuesday - 25th July-6:00 - 7:30pm
Heat 3-Performance Poets-Weds - 26th July-6:00 - 7:30pm
All participants must be available to compete in
Final on Thursday 27th July -6:00 - 7:30pm
4 finalists from each heat will compete in final
1st, 2nd and 3rd prizes awarded to Reading Poets from 8 finalists
1st and 2nd prizes awarded to Performance Poets from 4 finalists
Voicebox T-shirts for all finalists
Audience vote by ballot, scores will be tallied and the highest 4 scores
for each heat compete in final.
In the event of a tie, poets must have a back up peice for a read-off and
another vote will break that tie.
5 minute maximum per poet-running over time results in disqualification
Pre-registration is strongly advised-only 15 readers per heat.
contact theresamarynora@gmail.com to register. Leave name,email address,contact phone
and the category in which you are entering.
Voicebox Poetry Competition
Massimo's
10 William Street West
Galway
091 582 239
Voicebox will run as follows: 3 heats
2 categories Spoken Word/Reading Poets
Slam/Performance Poets
Heat 1-Reading Poets - Monday - 24th July-6:00 - 7:30pm
Heat 2-Reading Poets -Tuesday - 25th July-6:00 - 7:30pm
Heat 3-Performance Poets-Weds - 26th July-6:00 - 7:30pm
All participants must be available to compete in
Final on Thursday 27th July -6:00 - 7:30pm
4 finalists from each heat will compete in final
1st, 2nd and 3rd prizes awarded to Reading Poets from 8 finalists
1st and 2nd prizes awarded to Performance Poets from 4 finalists
Voicebox T-shirts for all finalists
Audience vote by ballot, scores will be tallied and the highest 4 scores
for each heat compete in final.
In the event of a tie, poets must have a back up peice for a read-off and
another vote will break that tie.
5 minute maximum per poet-running over time results in disqualification
Pre-registration is strongly advised-only 15 readers per heat.
contact theresamarynora@gmail.com to register. Leave name,email address,contact phone
and the category in which you are entering.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Weary Fingers
Weary Fingers
The streetlamp, still aglow
Casts a gloss over the footpath.
The orange light of morning gushes through the bedroom window,
Your weary fingers scramble for the lightswitch
As the seagull swoops for prey.
Somewhere long ago,
You marched through the fields of DeNang
Twitching at the eyes of children concealing weapons,
Your nervous fingers flinching the trigger startled,
as their weeping mothers fall and pray.
Theresa Daly
Labels:
guns,
ireland,
poetry,
theresa daly.vietnam,
war,
young soldiers
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Moonbeams
Moonshadow in Violet
12"x 10" x 2" acrylic on canvas
Moonbeams
Where are you tonight
this first glimpse of
spring? The night all
balmy, the moon full-
Jupiter sparking up
beside it, a cloudless
sky ablaze, bathed
in its glow;
the air, sweet scented
and light, sponge-cake
and springy, I want
to walk to the water
to wake the swans,
take to the swings;
to growl, to howl-for you to
slither into me;
but it is late
or early in the morning,
and no longer safe
to roam alone
and you are somewhere
between tomorrow and
yesterday; as far away as
moonbeams.
Theresa Daly
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