Category: Poetry

For Elle

I never treat myself. You’ve told me. But when I do, I hunt for pennies, Stretched across weeks and months, Without ease. Then I surprise you. You show me. A life among millions, A wealth without numbers, Shrunk into words and lines, Like these. (Image: ‘Long Runs the Fox’, Dermot McConaghy, Belfast. Photo credit uncertain).

By Conor April 24, 2016 0

For Elle

If now you only remember, Making an effort, Trying to be yourself, Then the person closest, Has made you yourself. If you only remember, To make this effort, Say to them now, That person closest, “I’m not me without you”.

By Conor January 25, 2016 0

Linenhall Library Writers’ Forum, my oldest’s writing bug and a library turtle poem…

I was telling my kids about a visit with my beloved to the wonderful Linenhall Library, where we heard new writing read by Glenn Patterson and Sinéad Morrissey.  Glenn’s words were, of course, highly skilled and dripping with talent. A master craftsman. Doing justice to Sinéad’s poetry remains beyond my vocabulary. The best I can…

By Conor September 27, 2015 0