First poem of new year 'On The Departure From Office Of Barack Obama'

'On The Departure From Office of #BarackObama' #poem https://t.co/QhI2lx42jg @ShrewsMomentum @LiverMomentum @MomentumScot @MomentumSoton pic.twitter.com/PcDVTUM8SH

— Kevin Higgins - poet (@KevinHIpoet1967) January 2, 2017

The poem has since been re-published by The Morning Star newspaper, by Clare Daly TD on her social media accounts, and on the UK based Culture Matters site.  

Such a big invitation I plan to wear pants

Instead of the usual prayer, the next sitting of the Dáil will open with me reading this poem - 'Vote of No Confidence'. I thank the Oireachtas Committee on #DailReform for this invitation and plan to go so far as to actually wear pants for the occasion. 
 

yer man from Atheist Ireland

Michael Nugent of Atheist Ireland has described the committee's decision to invite me along as "A brave move by our leaders and a clear sign of our maturity as a nation."

The pants I'll be wearing while reading my poem in Dáil Eireann.

Sean O'Fearghail

To mark the occasion Ceann Comhairle Sean O'Fearghail has arranged to have an A1 copy of my poem printed and bound in the skin of Ian O'Doherty of The Irish Independent. 

'journalist' Ian O'Doherty before they took his skin

'Static' by Gráinne McHale

Poem by Gráinne McHale

'Static' 

Backward steps
into a burnt-out womb.

The smell of those trees I knew.
There, looking at me,
across from a house
I lived in years ago.
I live near it again now,
beside the landlady’s son[i]
but he doesn’t know me.
I think.

People go by too fast for me to know.
People I used to know in each place.
All gone,
always going.
I know no one now,
no one knows me.
No one would know if I was not here.

If I died that would be some comfort
if there was someone who missed me
I could wait around for a bit
to help them get over it.
My Mum n’ Dad would be sad,
my brother
but the people I loved
without permission -
The Boys -
like they were my own soul
No
like they were God’s soul.

A Holy Trinity -
Jodie, Johnny, Roddy.
The last two were mirror similar:
ginger, freckled, ivory, svelte.
A beautiful, self-perpetuating
biological pattern,
like cancer.

Being so displeasing to one
might have been alright.
But three?
No, I suppose it would’ve been
like drinking and limits.
Two’s my limit,
way over with the third.

The third being Roddy,
with the rose petal, crème egg kisses,
belonging to some new girlfriend
or other every time I saw him.
Then – every time - he stole a kiss
goodbye from my lips
and I’d never see it coming.
To go home and put my hand in the fire.

So,
I left his city
and came back to my town.
Out of fright,
out of exhaustion.

To live again near the trees
that knew me to see
back then before I left
for the big city.
I didn’t know them then
but remember them now
to smell.

---

[i] The landlady’s son referred to is me. Mom died on May 31st 2011.

Gráinne McHale is from County Galway. She graduated in 2010 with a BA Fine Art in GMIT Galway and is currently studying for a MA Writing at NUIG. She writes poetry and fiction; has made a number of short films and her artwork has been exhibited both internationally and at home. Her website is https://grainnemchale.wordpress.com/ and her work also features on The Bogman’s Cannon. Gráinne was a Featured Reader at the March Over The Edge: Open Reading in Galway City Library. 

Poetry Workshop Laws

Workshop Laws

Your poems must be devoid

of cacophony, hope,

shards, love and anything

that could be described as

mellifluous. You will wage war on

‘and’. Participles will be rarer

than dry Irish Augusts;

it will almost always be ‘go’,

hardly ever ‘going’. ‘But’

and its best friend ‘then’

will be interrogated

severely at every checkpoint,

only allowed through

if they don’t give

the game away. Excessive

use of the hyphen must be

ruthlessly rooted out. Whatever  

you compare her to, 

let it not be a summer’s day.  However

bad the crisis gets,

never go in search of a word

that rhymes with

bankers. Now

it’s been discovered,

the God particle

is the new tsunami,

and like every daytime

radio commonplace,

no longer acceptable.

Never say: “I’m sad.”

Show us the wallpaper

in the room where

you thought about

ending it. 

Here I am with some of the participants in one of my poetry workshops this year.

One of my students, Nicki Griffin, at the launch of her first collection of poetry in November. For more about Nicki's book see the Salmon Poetry website.

Above is a poem in which I poke a bit of fun at the sort of advice I typically give participants as to how they might (hopefully) make their poems better. I love working with new poets on their poems. If you're interested in trying your hand at a few poems yourself, you might perhaps be interested in joining us for one of the January workshops. Full details below. 

"Starting in January, Galway Arts Centre is offering aspiring poets a choice of three poetry workshops, all facilitated by poet Kevin Higgins, whose best-selling first collection, The Boy With No Face, published by Salmon Poetry, was short-listed for the 2006 Strong Award for Best First Collection by an Irish poet. Kevin’s second collection of poems, Time Gentlemen, Please, was published in 2008 by Salmon Poetry and his poetry is discussed in The Cambridge Introduction to Modern Irish Poetry. His third collection Frightening New Furniture was published in 2010 by Salmon and his work also appears in the generation defining anthology Identity Parade –New British and Irish Poets (Ed. Roddy Lumsden, Bloodaxe, 2010). A collection of Kevin’s essays and book reviews, Mentioning The War, was published by Salmon Poetry in 2012. Kevin’s poetry has been translated into Greek, Spanish, Turkish, Italian, Japanese & Portuguese. His next collection of poetry, The Ghost in The Lobby, will be published in February 2014, also by Salmon.

Kevin is an experienced workshop facilitator and several of his students have gone on to achieve publication success. One of his workshop participants at Galway Arts Centre won the prestigious Hennessy Award for New Irish Poetry, two have won the Cúirt New Writing Prize, and yet another the Cúirt Poetry Grand Slam, while several have published collections of their poems. Kevin is also co-organiser of the successful Over The Edge reading series which specialises in promoting new writers. 


Each workshop will run for ten weeks, commencing the week of January 20^th. They will take place on Tuesday evenings, 7-8.30pm (first class January 21^st); on Thursday afternoons, 2-4pm (first class January 23^rd) and on Friday afternoons, 2-3.30pm (first class January 24th).


The Tuesday evening and Friday afternoon workshops are open to both complete beginners as well as those who’ve been writing for some time. The Thursday afternoon workshop is an Advanced Poetry Workshop, suitable for those who’ve participated in poetry workshops before or had poems published in magazines. The cost to participants is €110, with an €100 concession rate.

Places must be paid for in advance. To reserve a place contact reception at Galway Arts Centre, 47 Dominick Street, phone 091 565886 or email info@galwayartscentre.ie"

  

Guest post by Quincy R. Lehr: 'The Secret Adventures Of Carlos Danger'

Quincy R. Lehr

THE SECRET ADVENTURES OF CARLOS DANGER

               I start to fuck you so hard your tits almost hit you in the face.   
               You reach behind and spread your ass.

                        --former congressman Anthony Weiner

Who is the incognito

    man behind the phone,

the shape made out of pixels,

    the bone that's not a bone?

You always liked a challenge

    and running up the score

and gave a both/and answer

    instead of either/or.

No Carmen Sandiego--

    the flag's beside the point.

Fire another rocket

    and roll another joint

as settlements, like roaches,

    crowd against a street

in multitudes, exploding

    in artificial heat--

a Palestinian village

    or mercenary dive

that lands you straight in prime-time

    this thing is going live

like money shots in Quicktime.

    The leader grasps his rod

to satisfy  a stranger,

    enact the will of God,

and underneath the scepter,

    danger is displaced.

A baby's born in London.

    A leader is disgraced.

Whence the hooded axeman

    as Henry's wretched freight

sent his wives' eyes wandering

    towards men of lesser weight?

Where's Catherine in the saddle

    or Caesar in his bed?

Where can we find a Borgia

    to give us daily bread?

Carlos--you're more foolish

    than even we suspect,

on Friday almost frisky,

    the next day circumspect.

Another lucky lady

    forlornly at your side

mouths pieties to newsmen.

    The viewers will decide.

Quincy R. Lehr is the author of several poetry collections, most recently Shadows and Gifts (Barefoot Muse Press, 2013). His poetry and criticism have appeared in numerous journals in North America, Europe, and Australia, and he lives in Brooklyn, where he is the associate editor of The Raintown Review and co-curates the long-running Carmine Street Metrics series.

Funeral Arrangements for Kevin Higgins

This book is launched in Charlie Byrne's Bookshop next Thursday (May 9^th, 6.30pm). It includes my poem 'Necessary Arrangements' in which I outline my wishes for my own funeral. One of these is that this song should be played at an appropriate moment http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWXo6fFQHZA

CONTRIBUTORS: Guinn Batten, Eoin Bourke, Eva Bourke, Edward Boyne, Ken Bruen, Megan Buckley, Sandra Bunting, Patricia Byrne, Laura Ann Caffrey, Moya Cannon, Louis de Paor, Theo Dorgan, Noel Duffy, Susan Millar DuMars, Trish Finnan, Ndrek Gjini, Michael Gorman, Eamon Grennan, Gerard Hanberry, James Harpur, Aideen Henry, Kevin Higgins, Rita Ann Higgins, Dillon Johnston, Hugo Kelly, Thomas Kilroy, Susan Lanigan, Irina Ruppo Malone, Molly McCloskey, Mike McCormack, Conor Montague, John Montague, Pete Mullineaux, Val Nolan, Mary O’Malley, Christian O’Reilly, Ruth Quinlan, Thomas Dillon Redshaw, Moya Roddy, Ailbhe Slevin, Jordan Smith, Deirdre Sullivan, Áine Tierney, Eamonn Wall, Christian Wallace, David Wheatley, and Vincent Woods.

The book can be purchased here 
http://www.salmonpoetry.com/details.php?ID=299&a=245  

 slightly gratuitous picture of Pol Pot

(this will make more sense after you've listened to the song at the link above)

 A coffin: personally I'd go for a cheaper one than this