Pól Ó Lorcáin
Paul Larkin

Chroniclers are privileged to enter where they list, to come and go through keyholes, to ride upon the wind, to overcome in their soarings up and down, all obstacles of distance, time and place.
Charles Dickens - Barnaby Rudge, Chapter The Ninth

The day my youngest son came into the world - An lá a tháinig mo mhac is óige ar an tSaol - 18-11-2002

0420 and she taps me on the shoulder
a tap no God could make
drilling through my synapses
my sternum and coccyx
my epigenetic codex

a gap there is a gap
absence of low thump
the regular knocks
my backbone has been divining
for these past nine months

taxi by the time my eyes are awake
Léigh an t-alt uilig - Read Full Article....

Peace Process - time for the "Irish" to wake up and smell the Fair Trade coffee

A chomradaithe is cairde/comrades and friends - being suddenly presented with a chance to fly to Copenhagen (in an airplane) I found myself yesterday 30.000 feet up in the atmosphere and sending emails to people via my phone as I was on a plane that provides WiFi . Today I am posting this Cic Saor blog, again via phone - whilst attending a book-fair - please excuse, dear reader's, a middle aged man's euphoria at being alive for such a moment.

Now on to the matter in hand.
Léigh an t-alt uilig - Read Full Article....


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