Christine Murray

 

 

 

(Ireland)

 

 

Glendalough, at Iseult Gonne’s Grave

 

subside the rocks

archback

silica of bird leans into

 

a granite stylus

a grave bed

green sea-bed of flowering heads.

 

shatter of tree hacked-through/

                    windmills beside an sruthán geal

gold coins      in-stream-glitter      out to me.

 

a small a cloud there

her gulfstream ruffles my feathering (toll the …)

 

blood-thickener sloughs blood against.

let her eat the disease

 

a gelid-thaw

                    clysters the bloom

 

all that glisters is not white /and

not laden with griefs

 

 

Euterpe

 

whistle-in

         sing the hollow-pipes

of bird-bone               or leg-tube

jointed to.

 

leech into soil’s black trauma

a double-reed will always carry down

 

its muffled tune

from contort of leaf to nub of root

 

there is bone substance to

the fallen bough as

there is to the winged-bird

                    both perfume.

 

a maerl of

                    barey encloses both

                    the feathered and

                    the not.

 

shells maybe –

 

 

Westwardly

 

The beam pools and splits

Mapping the summit of

 

The not-circling mountains

Ranging white-grey-black

 

Bird looses the branch

Mapping a departing swirl as

 

Black glass eddies

-vibrates his departure.

 

 

Park

 

Her jewel is not precious though it has a fabulous-setting

Purples grow in the promenade-ring, a ring made for the

Swishing of silks

 

There is the presence of the dead nearby at their way-station

In soul-cocoons that need caressing

 

                    That plinth appears broken,

                    The others await its slow metamorphosis

 

I have walked this circle oftener in dreams

                    It is here that I played,

                    A child then.

 

My girl has unearthed a golden chain from deep in the trees’

Lattice shedding

 

It makes the ground a constant forest

                    Why it is autumnal year round –

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Christine Murray is a City and Guilds Stone-cutter. Her poetry is published in Ropes Magazine, Crannóg Magazine, The Burning Bush Online Revival Meeting (Issue 1), Carty’s Poetry Journal, Caper Literary Journal, CanCan ,The Southword Journal, A New Ulster, And Other Poems, the Diversity Blog (PIWWC: PEN International Women Writer’s Committee) and Books by Women.org

Her poem for three voices, Lament, was performed at the Béal Festival in 2012. She has reviewed poetry for Post (Mater dei Institute), Poetry Ireland and Writing.ie. Chris writes a poetry blog called Poethead which is dedicated to the writing, editing and translation of women writers. She is a member of the International PEN Women Writer’s Committee, and she is the web-developer for Irish PEN.

Upcoming publications in Recours au Poème, Skylight #47, and The Burning Bush. She writes the Poethead Blog.