Category:Archives

Raftery’s Buttons

Pete Mullineaux

Raftery, blind poet and fiddler / negotiating the rough back roads / of Galway-Mayo, stumbling / over fallen trees, circumnavigating / lethal drains and ruts, raging / against rivals, the status quo / ...

A Piper Prepares

Pete Mullineaux

It’s almost like shooting up: a captivating ritual – / the belt looped around the forearm; buckle / notched, blowpipe joined to leather bag; a shard / of cloth folded between elbow and rib for comfort – / ...

Music of the Spheres

Pete Mullineaux

Hard to imagine a universe without sound – / why else call it the Big Bang? / From background noise to formal structure: / Sibelius heard chords reverberating in a forest, / ...

Concertina

Pete Mullineaux

She shuffles it like a pack of cards, / testing the silent breath in the pleats. / With the air button pressed, fingers tease / but the instrument stays mute – / ...

Requiem

Pete Mullineaux

The cows have gathered in an adjacent field, / I can see their shapes in the moonlight – / a meeting of the tribes, they are here in their multiplicity; / ...

Tonight’s the Night

Pete Mullineaux

I took Dad to see Neil Young; he wore his suit (Dad, that is – / Neil Young wore a tie-dye shirt.) / ...

Last Imagining My Death Poem

Lynne Potts

I’m pretending I’m back under the fig tree like the one in Italy / when I persuaded you to stop for a picnic of cheese, bread, / ...

Europa and the Bull

Lynne Potts

That day, the pique and gleam of it / lyric and play, clouds bouncing, sea / in rosies and dip at the shore’s lip / when he came in his sleek quieting / ...