WHITE TWINE AND OLD SUITCASES


THE KILKENNY INVOLVEMENT CENTRE AND RECOVERY COLLEGE SOUTH EAST HAVE PRODUCED A WONDERFUL ANTHOLOGY OF POETRY AND PROSE. ‘WHITE TWINE AND OLD SUITCASES’ COMPRISES OF 128 PAGES AND 60 AUTHORS AND IS COMPLEMENTED BY SOME WONDERFUL PHOTOS AND ARTWORK BY TASK CAMERA CLUB. IT IS PRINTED BY MODERN PRINTERS. IT IS DEFINITELY RECOMMENDED READING FOR ALL LOVERS OF POETRY. THE KILKENNY OBSERVER IS HAPPY TO RUN THE POEMS EACH WEEK TO PROMOTE CREATIVE WRITING AND TO HIGHLIGHT THESE WONDERFUL CENTRES. AVAILABLE IN ALL KILKENNY BOOK SHOPS. €10

I See the Ghosts

I see the ghosts of yesteryear,
I hear them in the wind,
in an infant’s smile, I spy,
past people who were kind.
In a wrinkled brow I ken,
the lights of dawns ago,
the happy faces that have flown,
beyond these mortal woes.
I know the places where they go,
in an olden part of town,
as every eve’ they congregate,
before the dark drops down.
And when, alone, my tears drip down
in grief, my heart is torn,
but, in a hundred thousand smiles are hid,
their missing human forms.
For I do not know why I live,
or why I have to die;
but, I live in hope to see them all,
beyond that final sigh.

Jim Murray

It is Here Within

We’re always searching for peace, for love,
for what we haven’t got.
We struggle to feel good
to let go fear and anger and to be good enough.
We fight for what we need to be happy.
The harder we try,
the more out of reach it becomes.
But then we realise, we have it all inside,
the answer, the light,
we look inside and stop seeking outside.
We have always been at peace, calm and loved.
It’s here, so close when we look,
He has given it all to us,
He is always here within.

Se Nicholson

Candles

I’m lightning candles
with my grandmother
in the cathedral in Thurles.
We remember our dead and the son
that she lost twenty years ago.
Her sister in Roscommon gone too soon.
She blessed herself and stood back
and gazed awhile at the flame.
Each year more candles needed
to be lit for the souls in Purgatory.
They need our prayers she said.
For life is a valley of tears.
Not all the darkness
in all the world can blow out
a single candle.
She smiled down at me.
My child hand could feel her rings.
Her ancient hand.
Now you are gone from me,
and without you, I light a candle
in the empty church
under a statue of our Lady.
I whisper out your name. Claire.

Eoghan O’ Driscoll

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