Ronnie McGinn's Poetry Page
| If you have a poem you'd like to see published in The Irish Examiner then send it to:
The Poetry Corner
The Irish Examiner USA
1040 Jackson Avenue, Third Floor
Long Island City
NY 11101
or, preferably, you can email it direct to
ronniemcginn@eircom.net.
If possible keep your poem to 20 lines. You may choose any subject you like, in any form you like as long as it's original. We look forward to hearing from you. |
It's the New Year and in spite of all adversity, in spite of all negativity, in spite of the doom and gloom, the begrudgery and the ridicule, we are still here.
We have stood firm against the tide. We have recharged our batteries and rebooted our motivation.
We have seen there is a light at the end of the tunnel and to get there, all it needs is that we go for it! So to put us in the New Year mood here is a poem from Ed Broderick of Rockaway, New York, together with a special bonus this week with a poem from Tom O'Connor of the Mallow Poetry Group in Co. Cork.
His poem speaks for itself. It touches our intellect and senses, in mind, body and thought, on a tragedy that shocked the world.
NEW YEAR
Resolutions Revolutions Restitutions
EXCESS SIZE
Oh what did we do in days gone bye
to make our figures pleasing to the eye?
We walked everywhere we were destined to go
and returned again whether shine or snow.
Kept our home neat as a pin
and in doing so remained slim.
In my house we have a magic stick.
It's amazing how it does the trick.
It'll keep you trim and looking good.
For all to admire in the neighborhood.
Just a wooden stick crowned with straw
It works both ways; push or draw.
The hawkers say you must exercise
to rid yourself of your excess size.
But you and I know otherwise.
Just Waltz that stick around the room
and at home you will always have a groom.
HAPPY NEW YEAR
© Ed Broderick
The Tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School
How often has it been said?
Since Time was a playful child,
Life is precious?
How often has it been said?
Since Time was an angry youth,
Their deaths must not be in vain?
How often
Have the good words been spoken,
To those who will not listen?
How often
Have the hatches of conscience,
Been battened down
By those pirates of greed,
Poisoners of thought and reason;
Ruthless, relentless and brutal,
In the pursuit of power
For its own sake.
How often
Must the callous spear
Pierce the true heart,
Or the dark motives of the selfish
Eclipse the beauty of the soul?
And for how long more,
Must the spineless angels of evil,
Cloaked in the razzmatazz
Of sham patriotism,
Spit, in the very face
Of that sacred trinity:
Liberty, fraternity and equality.
That Friday;
Another senseless slaying:
Twenty white coffins,
The part-legacy
Of a deranged gunman.
A numbed community,
Some in shocked silence,
Others asking,
Trying to ask
The unanswerable questions;
Groping blindly
For some elusive crumb of reassurance:
A shoulder to cry on,
A comforting hug.
The president arrives
To much appreciated welcome.
In a dignified address,
The victims' names
Are read out;
He says that for change to happen,
We must first change ourselves.
Then on,
Monday,
Six year olds Noah and Jack
Were the first buried.
Across the nation,
The Pillars of Society
- with some honorable exceptions -
Will look the part
And say the right things,
But keep their distance.
This news will soon
Be off the front page
And later consigned to the archives.
In the public forum,
The Pillars will unyieldingly
Resume their mutual antagonism,
Minimising progress.
The day's proceedings over,
They will dine well,
Then meet up again later
To play poker,
Well into the small hours.
The playful child of Time
Is now in tears.
The angry youth,
Now a man,
Waits,
Patiently waits,
For someone,
Anyone,
To stand
And,
Light the torch of a New Hope,
To find that door
In the wall,
That no one knew was there,
Unlock it,
And lead us through,
To a New Enlightenment.
© Tom O'Connor
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