Poca favilla gran fiamma seconda
From The Writing Disorder If I Knew Braille If I knew Braille, perhaps I could read the graffiti of purple-mouthed limpets clinging to old, sea-washed boulders the secret Bibles of…
via Rabid Oak, Issue 12, a poem about recurrence in history. And crows: History gathers up in a swirl of images seemingly unconnected as individual incidents clumping together to form a…
Murder David Baker 1. Language must suffice. Years ago, under a sweet June sky stung with stars and swept back by black leaves barely rustling, a beautiful woman nearly killed…
Comment sections have a bad press, and one can understand when even the most innocuous YouTube video can have all sorts of rabid anger unleashed below. Sometimes, however, comments can…
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is a poet whose stellar reputation of the late 19th and early 20th Century is rather in eclipse, to say the least. No doubt his star will…
I liked this poem by John Jay Speredakos of the recurrent violent reciprocity of conflict and war. Mars Ever Nearer Twenty millennia ago when we made spears, we did…
A while back I posted “Be Still”, a poem by Agnes Hunt RHSM which is displayed on a board at the Holy Family Retreat Centre in Glencomeragh, Co Waterford. There…
At The Other Journal I come across this poem “riffing on Flannery O’Connor’s fandom for Dante” as the site itself puts it: Flannery and Dante For my money Dante is about as…
Séamus Sweeney 