One Finger Up Greeting

One Finger Up Greeting

One finger raised

greeting driver to driver, as I

drive the quiet country

roads round Annamoe.

A man thing it seems to me

says “I see you” and also

“I see you seeing me” in reply.

Women seem to prefer the wave

suggesting friendship and knowing.

But for men one finger seeing is

fine, even with strangers

Why does this gesture come again

to mind lying here in a formula hotel

in Portlaoise?

Unlike quiet Tiglin,

N7 trucks run busy through the night.

Find a scrap of paper,

use a bookies’ pencil, write this

leaning on District and Circle.

Searched the drawer for letterhead

and a Gideon for support, but

no Bible,

only a Golden Pages

in case you’d want to buy rather than pray,

in the wee small hours

The One Finger Up Greeting

on my mind, took me home,

like a prayer, a thought.

Martin Swords

May 2010

Portlaoise

Wicklow Writers at Wicklow Arts Festival2010

Members of Wicklow Writers, Friends, and Visitors at the Cosmic Poetry Readings, held in the Cosmic Garden, as part of Wicklow Arts Festival 2010

Wicklow Arts Festival Poetry Events

COSMIC POETRY

A community poetry event in a garden setting

Wicklow Writers bring their poetry and invite you to bring yours ( in words or music ) to the Cosmic Garden.....plus enjoy an elevenses cuppa before blast off....and hey, bring a cosy cushion for the trip!

Date : Sunday 30th May

Time : 11am

Where : Cosmic Garden, An Tairseach Ecology Centre, Dominican Convent

Admission : FREE

Any musicians out there would be most welcome at this event.

In association with Wicklow Writers Group wicklowwriters.blogsot.com & An Tairseach Ecology Centre

POETRY FOR ALL with Nell Regan

Bridge the generational gap and team up with someone from another age group for a joint adventure in creativity !

Date : Saturday 29th May

Time : 12pm

Where : An Tairseach Ecology Centre, Dominican Convent, Wicklow Town

Admission : FREE Places limited, phone 087 6537454 for info or to book a place

Have you ever fancied writing but didn't know where to start? Do you work away but just need an infusion of energy? Or maybe you just have an hour to spare on Saturday!

Either way, come along to this multigenerational writing workshop with award winning poet and experienced teacher Nell Regan. So, come old, come young. Grannies- grab your grandchild, Aunties- nudge your niece....you get the idea. BRING ALONG AN OBJECT FROM YOUR HOME OR GARDEN AND ALL WILL BE REVEALED!

Looking Back

after Patrick Kavanagh.



On College Street in September
I saw him standing there
At a bus stop waiting
Destination – I know not where
I stood, I stared, what should I do?
We were once a pair
Although ours was a brief affair.

In duffle coat and baggy pants
A rucksack on his back
Dishevelled and alone
And I had shared his past.
The lines and rhymes we wrote
I have them still
I asked have I a duty to fulfil?

Crowds walked by unknowing
Autumn leaves rustled past my feet
The railings kept me anchored
Unable to proceed.

A long pause, and then
Love’s altered in those hours and weeks
I’m through with heartache
Walking on,
I turned to look
But he was gone.



Eithne Wright 14/12/’09

Me!

ME!



When I am me,
as only me can be,
I will see,
truth-filled reality.

When I’m not me,
and pretence fills my place,
Then I am blinded
by false reality.

To see,
or not to see
would seem to rest with me.
Pray I be free,
to face reality,
and me!



Cáit Breathnach

The Home Place

For Night Light – Rathangan
by Dorothy Smith,
Hidden Histories
13 Sept – 9 Oct 2009






The Home Place





….sure is good to talk to you Brigid…
….you look after the old home place…
….boy we all sure do love that place…
….such memories….




Such memories.
Such memories.
Here am I living in your memories,
in the damp floors,
in the dark parlour where
I alone waked our mam,
in the pokey bedroom
with the flicky street light
The Home place,
where the heart is,
the broken heart





Martin Swords
Wicklow Writers
Poetry Day
October 1st 2009

N81 Late March

For N81

By Dorothy Smith.

Hidden Histories

13 Sept. – 9 Oct. 2009

N81 Late March

two hundred thousand three hundred and twenty five

two hundred thousand three hundred and twenty six

two hundred thousand three hundred and twenty seven

two hundred thousand three hundred and twenty eight

too many snowflakes to count, a confounding softness

traffic peters to nothing, silence rushes in

pale quiet spreads and settles softly on the ground

a white van, swanlike, glides slowly towards Tullow

I cannot count the flakes, I count the footsteps missing in the snow

the Byrne boys in Birmingham, Billy, gone to Glasgow,

all of the Powers except Granny Power, still next door

Imelda, who I always liked, with the black baby, gone, somewhere

N81, this feckin’ road leads everywhere and nowhere

taking, always taking, never bringing back

a few hours peaceful, in its coat of bridal white

soon it will revert to lonely emigration black

Martin Swords

September 2009

Wicklow Writers

Poetry Day

October 1^st 2009

The Courthouse Arts Centre

Tinahely

Co. Wicklow