Sunday 21 February 2021

Two Brilliant Poems + One Found Poem by Attracta Fahy

 



The Blue Flower Of Chernobyl

 

She was a beautiful flower 

growing in Chernobyl 

 

a dark wasteland,

chemical fog clouded her sun. 

 

Air a nightmare 

she adapted to a hostile environment, 

surrounded by boars, bears 

and wolves,

 

her feet root deep in toxic soil,

created walls to block malfunction. 

 

There in the wilderness

her outstretched arms

prussian veins fingered each leaf,

her bowed hands, waiting and tending

 

transparent tears poured

from transparent petals, 

metallic tongue shaped cheeks radiated 

nuclear blue, overshadowed the night,

and light, the half light of trust,

yet, trust was all she had 

absorbing poison. 

 

This battlefield where others have died

made her a survivor 

her heart a sky mirroring how sun,

the loneliness of soul,

and soil conspire to create,

 

an anomaly. 

Deep in the thicket, love unnoticed,

she knew herself only as the forest

knew it’s reactors

 

Alone. She evolved 

like a satellite, making it up 

as she went along. 

 

She emerged from an ocean of debris

like a lunar halo 

it’s rays reflecting the ice crystals 

of cirrus cloud, 

 

and now she goes on thriving,

reproducing her rare mutation,

hidden beauty, the strength of purpose, 

the hope we must find in contamination. 

 

 

Tired of news

 

and alone, I search for an anchor, 

walk over the road, away from this

Cul da sac with no answer 

 

a world where truth is a choice 

where polite silence endangers,

shores up a movement

the online strangers that tell you to go to hell 

when you wonder why we can’t be kind. 

 

Kind - a word which threatens MAGA belief, 

driven by hunger, power imagines it claims 

even the rivers, 

but the river flows on oblivious. 

 

Words, stiff, and rigid, a stick beating life

from meaning, lifeless words a corpse

trying to breathe, 

relieved, we’ve proved sabotage

is part of being human. 

 

It doesn’t stop there, we stomp underground

circling this new world, 

laneways, detours to nowhere,

where we can be anywhere on our laptop ship,

ego at the wheel.

 

Press a finger on a button, hold down 

the great machine, where you travel to space 

without leaving your house, silence with insult

from the other side of the world,  believe you are Zeus.

 

Should I fight the hopelessness

with words greater than theirs?

 

walk on claiming no river, where no river claims me,

it’s hum burbles a mirror of fate, opens my heart

to what’s little, contributory streams

in this bogland of peace, the Cregg, the Clare

gulped by the Corrib– 

all leap to one great ocean,

as the moorhen bobs her head

to it’s musical current. 

 

Where salmon leap forward to breed,

terns, sandpipers feed on her body

the river, like news goes on

flowing to an endless death.

 

The black headed gull hovers over

its own reflection,

seeing another, dives into itself. 

 

My eyes in constant surprise.

Trees reflected on the waters surface, 

like the news, which is truth? 

should I climb or dive? 

 

 

Found Poem: Weather Lore

 

Dúchas.ie

 

Archival reference – School collection -volume 0017 Page 193 - National Folklore Collection. UCD.

Collector: Frances Corley

Informant: Thomas Hussey, Scotland Road, Glenamaddy, Co. Galway.

School: Scoil Sheosaimh Ntha (Cailíní) Glenamaddy Co. Galway. Teacher: Úna, Bean Uí Threasaigh.

 

The following is transcribed from the UCD Dúchas archives. It is a record of my Grandfathers beliefs and folklore. This work is taken from late 1940’s records of a children’s project in primary schools, which were kept at the schools where they were recorded. They were later transferred to UCD digital archives.

They are all hand written, as can be seen on the Dúchas website. His niece in law Frances Corley wrote these scripts. (Tragically Frances died from meningitis shortly after completing this project.)

I have transcribed here exactly what was written in Frances handwriting.

 

 

Weather Lore

 

Signs of the Weather

When the clouds are thick and low it is a sign of rain.

When the wind is South West at the change of the moon, it is a sign of rain.

A blue light in the fire is a sign of rain.

A vivid reflection in the water, such as in a lake is a sign of rain.

When sheep flock to the hill-tops is a sign of rain.

When walls become damp it is a sign of rain.

When the sun sets red in West it is a sign of rain.

When bones and rheumatism are painful it is a sign of rain.

When a dog eats grass it is a sign of rain.

A red sky in the morning is a sign of a wet day.

When distant hills look nigh it is a sure sign of rain.

When you hear crickets singing, it is a sign of rain.

When a cat turns his back to the fire, is a sign of rain.

A frog has a yellow colour for fine weather and a brown colour for bad weather.

When wild geese come from the North, it is a sign of frost.

When the robin comes to the door, is a sign of snow.

When wild birds come near to the house it is a sign of bad weather.

When there is a rainbow in the morning it is a sign of broken weather, and a rainbow in the evening is a sign of calmness.

A grey sky in the morning is a sign of a fine day.

When the sun goes down behind a bank of clouds it is a sign of broken weather.

A red reflection on the Eastern side of the sky at sunset, is a great sign of fine weather

When the seagulls lie inland, is a sign of stormy weather.

When the smoke is blowing down it is a sign of rain.

When the moon is on its back and black sing round it, that is a sign of rain.

When the swallows fly low it is a sign of rain.

When the ducks go about quacking it is a sign of rain.

When the fog goes up in the morning it is a sign of rain.

 

 



Attracta Fahy’s background is Nursing/Social Care. She lives in Co.Galway, works as a Psychotherapist, and is a mother to three children. She completed her MA in Writing NUIG ‘17. She was October winner in Irish Times; New Irish Writing 2019, Pushcart, and Best of Web nominee, included in a number of Anthologies, including Of Mouth Northern Women’s Writings. She was shortlisted for 2018 Over The Edge New Writer of the year, and longlisted in 2019. Shortlisted for Allingham Poetry competition both 2019 & 2020. She has been published in Stinging Fly, Banshee, Poetry Ireland Review, Honest Ulsterman, Poethead, Orbis, Abridged, InkSweat&Tears, Curlew, 100 Words of Solitude, and several other journals at home and abroad. Attracta was a featured reader at the January OTE Open Reading in Galway City Library January 2020, and guest reader with New Mexico Irish American Society Poetry Salon February 2021. Fly on the Wall Poetry published her debut chapbook collection Dinner in the Fields, in March’20


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2 comments:

  1. I admire these poems for different reasons, but especially the first and last. The first for its lyrical approach to the mystery, the last fur its reliance in the language of daily observations, and of course so much foretells rain!

    ReplyDelete

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