LINK TO POEM 'THE COPPER MINES OF PERU'

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PsdkRgVPGI

This is a link to a reading I gave of my poem 'The Copper Mines of Peru' at the 'On the Nail' Series of Readings in Limerick, March 01, 2016. The poem was first published in my blog 'The Helicopter Poem' a few years ago. Hope you enjoy it.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

JOHN MONTAGUE RIP

John Montague, RIP. 

Drove him back from Annaghmakerrig to Cork in a rusty Fiat 128 in the summer of 1983. He slept stretched all trustingly on the back seat while I kept nodding off, waking up once just in time to see a ditch straight in front of me. Ah them were the days. 

I jumped a red light in Athlone, was stopped by the guards, breathalysed. 

Guard: Now Ciaran, I’m afraid you’re over the limit.

John M: Excuse me! I’m an university professor. I need to get back to Cork. I have an early lecture tomorrow morning.

Me: John, please stay quiet...

Guard: Now Ciaran, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You give me the keys of the car, and go up the town with your friend and have some fish and chips, and come back to the Station in an hour or so and collect your car.

John: But I’m a university lecturer and I have an early lecture tomorrow!

Me (sotto voce ) Shut up, John....

John M (later, up the town, as we ate fish and chips): But I thought it would help to get you off...

‘Like Dolmens Round My Childhood, the Old People’ – an all-time favourite poem of mine.

GALWAY LAUNCHING OF FERMATA ANTHOLOGY, WRITINGS INSPIRED BY MUSIC

Launch in Galway of Fermata: Writings inspired by Music, edited by Eva Bourke and Vincent Woods, published by Artisan House. 

Charlie Byrne’s Bookshop, Middle Street, Galway, 03 December 2016.

It was fairly cold last Saturday out on the covered passageway at Charlie Byrne’s Bookshop, for the Galway launching of Fermata, but we were eventually cheered by poetry, music and prosecco. Thanks to all who made it such an unique and enjoyable occasion.

Readers:

Ciaran O’Driscoll – ‘Wasps in the Session’

Geraldine Mitchell – ‘Basso Continuo’

Mary O’Malley – ‘Geography’

Gerry Hanberry – ‘Lilter’

Peter Mullineaux – ‘A Piper Prepares’

Rita Ann Higgins – Excerpt from ‘The Faraways’

Each of these poems can be found in Fermata, among many more poems and prose writings that describe/invoke/celebrate music of all kinds and its place in our lives.

Photograph by Seán F. Ó Drisceoil

And what is a Fermata, anyway?  1. the sustaining of a note, chord, or rest for a duration longer than the indicated time value, with the length of the extension at the performer's discretion. 2. a symbol placed over a note, chord, or rest indicating a fermata.

Apparently, according to editor Eva Bourke, there is or was a T-shirt available bearing the legend: I'M A FERMATA, PLEASE HOLD ME ;-)

ORIGIN OF MY FACEBOOK PROFILE PICTURE

The picture shows me giving an impromptu post-midnight reading at the request of some young people outside Bush's Bar, Baltimore, Co Cork, in the summer of 2016. The poem was  'Turnip' from the collection I have in my hand, Life Monitor. I was invited down to Baltimore to read at the O'Driscoll Clan Gathering that summer. I use this as my 'profile' picture on Facebook as it has, for me at least, some kind of iconic vibe. 

POEM FOR NOVEMBER

NOVEMBER DAYS

Parsley pales. The cat craps in the flower box.

Round the garden table, garden chairs still range,

an icebound working group on climate change.

The car door’s frozen doorhandle unlocks

when blessed with water. Christmas rules TV.

Although no visitor’s appeared in weeks,

the feeble latch-grip slips, the front gate creaks

its winter wolf-crying expectancy. 

Our neighbour takes his DIY indoors,

no longer deafens us with power tools.

Spleenwort fronds survive on old stone walls,

each finger-lobe a blister-strip of spores.

INVITATION TO LAUNCH OF FERMATA: WRITINGS INSPIRED BY MUSIC

'SEA DITTY' AND CLIFFS OF MOHER

SEA DITTY

Let’s all go binary

beside the seaside, beside the sea

with a two into one 

and so it goes on 

with a seagull here and a cormorant 

there on the breezy prom 

where little boys make goalposts

from their jettisoned jumpers

and the brass bands go pom! pom!

marching ad infinitum

with lots of girls besides

by the breaking of the waves

and my tongue in groove struck dumb 

for the love of a fishwife

with a fishwife’s tongue

© Ciaran O'Driscoll 2016

THE RED HEN PIGHOG POETRY PARTY

SEIZE THE DAY (CARPE DIEM)

SEIZE THE DAY

‘Because we’re going to die, an expression of intensity is justified’, poet C.D. Wright, r.i.p.

How about it, Blandus, an expression

of intensity before you pop your clogs?

It looks like you’re a man without a mission,

and your poetry has departed to the dogs.

Ah 'tis yourself that's in it! you’ll declare,

contemptibly soft-soaping the Grim Reaper –

as if you didn’t know he doesn’t care

for anyone, prince, poet or floorsweeper!

And he doesn’t rate intensity a whit.

It doesn’t matter if you’re numb or feeling.

So go and live life fully for a bit

before your funeral bells begin their pealing.

© Ciaran O'Driscoll January 2016

www.ciaranodriscoll.com