Some handwritten manuscripts of my poems here at the UCD Digital Library, Irish Poetry Reading Archive
PEBBLES
The stars are many,
like pebbles on a long shingled beach
rippling under glassy water, moving
when the night’s umbrella slowly arcs.
Only a halo of moon on the horizon
might separate them – their aeons,
and I would grieve then for my Age,
for my years and the wonders
I have not and will never see.
Michael J. Whelan
First published as part of sequence titled ‘The Long Hours Await the Sentry’ in the 11th Anniversary issue of Live Encounters Poetry & Writing by Mark Ulyseas, October 2020.
Photos: Michael J. Whelan (2 x Kilmainham Gaol)
Posted in Photo's, Writing | Tagged Dublin, halo, Kilmainham Gaol, pebbles, Pebbles - by Michael J. Whelan, stars, umbrella | Leave a Comment »
The ANNALS
Since time immemorial,
in the night’s dead haunts,
blackness still waves,
rolls and troughs
across vast oily oceans of this Earth,
slick and unwitnessed,
and the ancient monastery’s enchanted cat
still threads inky black paw prints
over the velum pages of a long forgotten abbot’s
unfinished transcripts.
Can you see them?
Michael J. Whelan
Posted in Photo's, Writing | Tagged abbot, Annals, monastery, oceans, The Annals - by Michael J. Whelan, transcripts, velum | Leave a Comment »
Reflection
O darkness
my corrupted other,
in the night’s un-curtained window
your argument sees through me,
I have no answer,
our reflections are mute.
Which is heaven, and which is truth?
Michael J. Whelan
Posted in Photo's, Writing | Tagged corrupted, heaven, o darkness, reflection, TRUTH | Leave a Comment »
Michael J. Whelan at the grave of Wilfred Owen – Great War Poet (KIA 04.11.1918 during World War One) Photo: Ors Communal Cemetery, France 01.07.2013
WILFRED OWEN’S GRAVE
(Ors, France – June 2013)
I was not born then
but I know that blood
still gives meaning to the ground of wartime.
So I stand at the place of your bones,
you’re still alive
like your words
in some other existence
somewhere else,
the cover portrait
on your first book of poems
you never saw,
the pages of its verse
I bring to you now
to place upon your head,
in the ether of the spoken words
that spring you back to life
each time I see through your dead eyes
the last days of a distant Great War
all those years ago
and I wonder
if those lines you lived in
were as close to the objective
View original post 47 more words
Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a Comment »
The Long Hours Await the Sentry
‘But a whisper is clearer to us than a shout to anyone else‘ – Conchobar Mac Nessa, King of the Ulaid.
All the lesser caste shadows stretch longer,
darker, reach out, creep into each other
with a coldness pulling the night into the world.
And so the long hours await the sentry.
Guilt descends in a cloud of incense,
as if a whisper of bells tolling
between darkened shapes of winter city nights,
the skyline blacker than all of space
reserved for tainted priests.
He sees all the people then
are but Jerusalem trapped by walls
that rise and fall to times moral breaches
slung by catapults and crucifixions
and the market coins that rolled into crevasses
beneath its foundations.
Michael J. Whelan
First published as part of sequence titled ‘The Long Hours Await the Sentry’ in the 11th Anniversary issue of Live Encounters Poetry & Writing by Mark Ulyseas, October 2020. Photo: Michael J. Whelan
Posted in Photo's, Writing | Tagged But a whisper is clearer to us than a shout to anyone else, The Long Hours Await the Sentry, The Long Hours Await the Sentry - by Michael J. Whelan | Leave a Comment »
Staring Down the Years
Red tears pooled in the street
like petals fallen from a fuchsia.
A bright flower and grass
spring from a sea of cobbles.
He realises he’s staring down the years,
the wind complains and rifles his ribcage.
He crosses far from the pedestrian black and white,
the corners howl at his hesitations.
Michael J. Whelan
First published as part of sequence titled ‘The Long Hours Await the Sentry‘ in the 11th Anniversary issue of Live Encounters Poetry & Writing by Mark Ulyseas, October 2020. Photo: Michael J. Whelan
Posted in Photo's, Writing | Tagged black and white, fuchsia, pedestrian, ribcage, Staring Down the Years - a poem by Michael J. Whelan | 2 Comments »
The Long Hours Await the Sentry
Massive THANK YOU to Mark Ulyseas for this bumper (2 vols) 11th Anniversary issue of Live Encounters Poetry & Writing. Thank you for including my new poems and it’s a privilege to be in here with these crowds of wonderful writers!I have some new poems here, please check them out and please then read the work of the other contributors.
Michael J Whelan – The Long Hours Await the Sentry
Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a Comment »