Three Poems by Gordon Ferris

 

My legacy

 

My grandmother lies in a pauper's grave

shared with eight other anonymous souls

to keep her warm

 

It was never spoken about by my father 

He often said how 

our generation 

knew nothing of poverty 

hunger, real hunger 

Or how  he  had to work 

from the age of twelve 

to put food on the table 

how he had to finish his father's work 

because our grandad was too 

caught up in grief for his wife

or too drunk 

or both. 

I learned that 

Grandad only started drinking 

After the love of his life suddenly passed

from the poor person's illness,  

often speaking to me 

in a faraway voice  of

being guided 

to his home by her 

in the shape 

of a large blue bear

With furry paws wrapped around him 

to keep him safe and warm

all this at times 

When he was drunk and incapable

 

In his eighties 

He often spoke 

of still sensing her presence 

watching over him 

Waiting for them 

to be again joined together

 

 

Marigold

 

You could fly naked through the eye of a 

Hurricane, and then say that you are sane 

You could say that your mother was a witch 

But know she was in every sense a bitch

I can hear your confession

But unlike the priest

I won't judge you 

or make you feel bad

about your mistakes

You say that optimists like me 

are the worst 

We stare down the 

barrel of a gun  

Then dare you to pull the trigger

Marigolds, on the other hand

are portals 

for our past voices

to return so they can 

Keep an eye on  loved ones

to whisper to them 

in their dreams to 

not 

discharge their weapons.

 

 

Rebirth 

 

on the horizon 

pink marshmallow clouds

hide the setting sun 

 

though the air is still

the rabbit stands erect

A sentry to its frolicking family

 

at the sound 

of heavy footfall 

She disappears in a flash

 

this early morning 

the silence of the summer breeze 

brings with it hope

 

for new beginnings 

every morning something 

new emerges  

 

a clean chapter is 

waiting to be written. 

renewal is on us

Gordon Ferris was born and raised in Finglas, a North West suburb of Dublin. In the early eighties, he moved to Donegal where he has lived ever since. He started writing in 2014 and has had many short stories and poems in publications including Hidden Channel, A New Ulster, The Galway Review, Impspired Magazine, Lothlorien Poetry Journal and Live Encounters. He has also won prizes in the summer 2020 HITA Creative Writing Competition for his poem ‘Mother’ and was joint winner in the winter competition for his poem ‘The Silence’.

Poetry Ireland awarded Gordon a, Poetry Town Bursary in 2022.

In January 2023, Impspired published his first book, Echoes, a short story collection. In December, Impspired published his second book, A Mirror Looking Out, a poetry collection, under the brilliant guidance of the late Steve Cawte.