This week we're delving into another 'city poem,', this time set in Dublin. It would be fair enough to say that Dublin poems could be an entire genre to themselves. Here we have a poem steeped in the contemporary, from the 'texting' style language and experimental punctuation, to the hopes and fears of the current generation, where living feels more like gambling than thriving. Yet there is timelessness in the notion of uncertainty; something we share keenly with our ancestors. If only we could ask them all they did not know about where things were going – we might recognise a glimpse of ourselves.
Let's take a walk in the poetic landscape of a city of poets, past and present.
POETRY
DS MAOLALAI
Terraria
the sun, flaking brickwork
from rooftop and gutter terrarium.
greenery, birdnests – improvised,
crowding the sky. and long
spiky plants reaching over
like spiders from rotten
september-time fallings.
winter rain – march –
april sunshine. I have struggled
times over – walked in ditches
while life seemed impossible.
above third storey windows
was smeared out as a liar
by roots with their thumbs
being pushed into mortar, to bedsits
and bedrooms and bathrooms.
throwing shadows to streets
and the burned july traintracks
like confident poker hands
onto a table – the vigour of winning
and sweeping up tokens.
the vigour of knowing you've lost.
AUTHOR BIO
DS Maolalai has nominated twelve times for BotN, ten for the Pushcart and once for the Forward Prize, and has had his poetry released in three collections; "Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden" (Encircle Press, 2016), "Sad Havoc Among the Birds" (Turas Press, 2019) and “Noble Rot” (Turas Press, 2022)
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