Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into an artifice of eternity.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016


~For JH~

(In Memory of the Fallen Fathers
of the Irish Free State, Easter 1916)

One day I will arise
On the island of Easter
Where my fathers are, 

And I will find them
Standing in empty graves,
Still petrified, still naked, 

Their fossilized sockets
Shorn of the coral
And obsidian eyes

That once looked
From the sea.

All around the fields
Will be wild and bare,
The trees gone, 

And the people all gone,
Ruined by time and tide
And the winds of famine – 

But you, fathers, will remain,
Sentinels still, dead still,
And still blind as the stones.

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