I invested a few more euros that I don’t have, and had myself dot.commed.
My website is nowkarenjmcdonnell.com
Apart from that, the song remains the same – as Led Zeppelin might have said. There’s a new post up today on my Writer’s Blog: the second one about writers’ retreats.
My writing continues apace. I’ve been re-drafting since the summer trips to Annaghmakerrig and the John Hewitt Intl. Summer School, and I’ve been submitting work. We will pass speedily over the competitions I’ve entered!
My little compadre keeps me company as I slave over a hot PC.
Bessa, aka CAT.
I think this year has been about development, and stepping up to the poetic block. And that’s no bad thing.
Keep on truckin’, bad hombres and nasty women!
I’m not sure about the copyright on this – I’d be glad to rectify that.
You know yourself: “I’m just going out for milk, I won’t bother bringing the phone.”
Oops. A missed call from a number I didn’t recognise.
Well, it was only a call from Stephen at the John Hewitt Summer School, informing me that I’d won a full bursary to attend the school at the end of the month. Yahoo!
I’ve known about Hewitt, and had seen a documentary about him. My pal Ian has performed a one man show about the Northern Irish poet. I don’t know a great deal of his work, however. Click here for biographical info on Hewitt, or here to listen to Seamus Heaney discussing a glossary of colloquial words from his poetry (from the archives of RTÉ).
Poster for Ian McElhinney’s one man show about Hewitt
So – off I go on another adventure to Armagh town; where there will be creative writing classes, wonderful readings, lectures, music and, of course, lots of talking!
I’m so grateful to have been awarded a bursary. You can find out more about the John Hewitt Society and the Summer School by clicking here. I’ll post more about it when I get back.
I’ve never been to Armagh before. Now, where did I put my map, and the leftover sterling after my trip to Bellaghy … ?
Come to the ESF Poetry Breakfast on Saturday, 8th July at the Record Break in Ennis at 11 am.
Sinéad says “Led by the Poetry Collective, this is an all inclusive open mic of poetry. Share your own poem or read from one of your all time favourites in the RB Café garden this Saturday.”
Sure what else would you be doing on a Saturday morning?
Time is not my friend today, so I thought I’d just pull something out of the poetic lucky bag, so to speak.
And here’s what I chose. Virgil’s Aeneid.
Nope – not the recent posthumous translation of Book VI from Seamus Heaney. (I have my copy, but the Underworld has to wait for Easter, when I can get away from ‘work’ writing.)
During my Classics years at NUI Galway, I had great teachers. Amanda and Mark worked with us on The Aeneid. The translation I have is by Robert Fagles. His work on it, and The Iliad, has brought tears to my eyes; he never loses sight of the Masters’ poetry.
Aeneas leaving Dido by Giovanni Francesco Romanelli
Here are a few lines from BOOK IV – for all you star-crossed lovers out there:
But Aeneas
is driven by duty now. Strongly as he longs
to ease and allay her sorrow, speak to her,
turn away her anguish with reassurance, still,
moaning deeply, heart shattered by his great love,
in spite of all he obeys the gods’ commands
and back he goes to his ships.
……
Then Juno in all her power, filled with pity
for Dido’s agonizing death, her labor long and hard,
sped Iris down from Olympus to release her spirit
wrestling now in a deathlock with her limbs.
Since she was dying a death not fated or deserved,
no, tormented, before her day, in a blaze of passion –
Proserpine had yet to pluck a golden lock from her head
and commit her life to the Styx and the dark world below.
So Iris, glistening dew, comes shimmering down from the sky
on gilded wings, trailing showers of iridescence shimmering
into the sun, and hovering over Dido’s head, declares:
“So commanded, I take a lock as a sacred gift
to the God of Death, and I release you from your body.”
With that, she cut the lock with her hand, and all at once
the warmth slipped away, the life dissolved in the winds.
Last week I was up at the Courthouse Gallery in Ennistymon for a reading hosted by Jessie Lendennie & Salmon Poetry. Find out more about Salmon Poetry, and the bookshop here.
It was lovely to meet Gabriel Fitzmaurice again and to finally meet Thomas Lynch. Click on the gents’ names to find out more about them. There was also a guest star in the presence of Teresa Scollon, over from the American Mid-West. And boy, were we treated to a great evening of poetry. As I said on Facebook that evening – it was more like a session around a hearth. The banter between the poets, and the engagement with the audience, was mighty. The three read turn upon turn, which added an energy to us all – and kept the listeners on our aural toes, so to speak!
It’s always lovely to be introduced to new writing: I was really taken with Teresa’s poems; and the way she delivered them. So, off I went – fishing online. You can read more about Teresa here. And you can order some of her work such as this collection (gorgeous artwork).
So my lovelies … there’s a bit of reading for you!
The literary festival season is seriously kicking off. This weekend there are two to choose from: The Ennis Book Club Festival andDoolin Writers’ Weekend. My bi-location cloak is at the dry cleaners yet again, so what can I do? I will be in Ennis: this trip involves The Mammy, and one can’t let down one’s mammy. Especially when Sunday is Mothers’ Day.
The rest of yez can go where you like. But, may I just say that Jessie and all at Salmon Poetry will be celebrating 35 years of Salmon publishing tomorrow, Saturday 5 March in the Doolin Hotel. At 8pm they will launch a celebratory anthology, Even the Daybreak: 35 Years of Salmon Poetry
I can’t be there, unfortunately. Maybe some of you can. Either way, have a great reading weekend.
I will be reading poems with writer Frank Golden and students of the Burren College of Art at 8pm this evening, here in Ballyvaughan.
As Storm Desmond batters the country, the fire and candles will be lit in the old tower and we will hunker down and speak (if not shout) words in defiance of the weather!!
On 11 November, I will be reading old & new work at the White House Poets’ gathering in Limerick. There will also be an open mic. https://www.facebook.com/WhiteHouseLimerickPoetry/
Time: 9pm Location: The White House Pub, 52 O’ Connell Street, Limerick.
There is, in the town of Loughrea, an organisation.
A group of people capable of severe seriousness, and rowdiness of the highest order.
This group, friends, is the Baffle Writers’ Group. And they’ve been going at it hammer and tongs for many’s the year. In fact, I overheard someone say 2016 is their 30th anniversary. You can find out more about them here. And the full details of the all the events.
Now, summat baffling popped up on Facebook during the week, so I emailed a writer well-versed (ahem) in the comings and goings of said Society. Yes, she said. There’s a DO. A bit of an EVENT. An annual SHINDIG. Get over to Loughrea pronto, and join the fun. So I did.
And I was in such a rush I never posted it here under ‘Events’. Tut tut.
On Saturday night I met Anne Marie Kennedy (she being my Baffle ‘mole’) in Harney’s pub in Loughrea and registered for the Baffle poetry competition. Two heats took place in different pubs, and fifteen people were picked to compete last night in the final, which was held at the Loughrea Hotel.
Well, all I can say is: this lot know how to put on a gig! Great emceeing by Declan, and super interval music from Cian, and – important this, poets are a hungry lot – lovely finger food from the hotel. Heartiest congratulations to all on ‘de comm-itt-eeee’.
The competition for the Baffle Turnip was fierce, and there was also the People’s Choice – voted by everyone in the audience. This year’s theme was ‘The Lady’s Revenge’. Why a turnip? You might well ask. Well, this time of year has the whiff of turnips about it, and I also heard the story of a man hanged for stealing a turnip during the Famine. Now, I heard a lot of stories last night. Those Bafflers are fierce men and women for shtooooorrrries!
The competition was judged by the writer Geraldine Mills. I would urge you to seek out some of her work. Before announcing the winners, she went through the list; with a positive word for everyone. A lady.
Noelle Lynskey took first prize with a lovely poem The Bed, and Tony Callinan (hope I spelt that correctly, Tony!) won both second prize and the People’s Choice for his extremely clever and funny poem about the Bafflers’ patron saint – Lady Margaret Kildysart.
My poem ‘Elizabeth Pepys Contemplates Adultery’ took third prize; I was chuffed to bits. That totally unexpected result was the icing on the cake on my first Baffle weekend.
Then it was home, and as the bould Samuel Pepys often said, ‘So to bed.’
I’m delighted to say that my poem At Sea has won second prize in the Wild Atlantic Words poetry competition, organized by the good people at Hungry Hill Writing. You can find out more about them here, and you can buy the Wild Atlantic Words Anthology, and those from previous years, via the website.
I won a fantastic prize – and can’t wait to use it!
More about that on my writer’s blog, readwritehere.wordpress.com later. For now, it’s tooty-pip as I’m off to the beautiful Beara pensinsula to hang out with poets, read my work, and take a workshop with Breda Wall Ryan.
Karen J McDonnell 