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Posts Tagged ‘SalmonBookshop’

Bookshops

Posted in Books, COMMUNITY, Ireland, McAlpine Bell Publishing, Perth City, Poetry, WA Writers, Writers, tagged BoffinsBookShop, books, Bookshops, Elizabeth'sBookshop, FrancesMacaulayForde, MillStBookshopCaffe, POEM:TheBoffin, poems, poetry, SalmonBookshop, SalmonPoetry, writers on January 17, 2015| 3 Comments »

For lovers of books, bookshops will always entice.

I’ve mentioned my favorite bookshop, nestled in Ennistymon, County Clare, Ireland is also a Literary Centre, run by Jessie Lendennie, publisher of Salmon Press. A meeting place for those in the poetry scene in Ireland where Jessie is both necessary and influential.

Across the oceans, here on the Cafe Strip in Fremantle, Elizabeth’s Bookshop has long been a place to fall into soft couches with a favorite tome and lose yourself for a while.

MillPointCaffeBookshop in South Perth serves coffee and is a favorite haunt for a writer friend who literally immerses himself in words, while he creates.

While Boffins Bookshop in Williams Street in Perth City specialize…

The Boffin

Bookshops are like lovers,

they numb in black & white

then seduce you with colour,

titillate and tempt your soul

until you finally let go,

find the courage to close

the book ~ pages which leave

you gasping The breath of air

on your face feels like a slap.

Finalist “Inner City Life” Literary Competition 2004.

@FrancesMForde #FrancesMacForde #Bookshops #POEM:TheBoffin #SalmonBookshop #SalmonPoetry #Elizabeth’sBookshop #MillStBookshopCaffe #BoffinsBookShop #Writers #Poetry #Poems #Books

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‘Trucker’s Moll’

Posted in 1968 Notebook, Books, Favorite Writers, Poetry, Writing, tagged 1968Notebook, CliffsOfMoher, Frances Macaulay Forde, IrishPoet, JessieLendennie, poetry, RosemaryCanavan, SalmonBookshop, SalmonPoetry on September 21, 2014| 1 Comment »

In Rosemary Canavan’s book of poems ‘Trucker’s Moll’, her dedication is “for my mother who started me off”. I can relate.

My mum also encouraged my youthful angst in my 1968 handwritten notebook, long before keyboards ruined my ability to wield a pen and ink, by putting a little (accountant’s) tick of approval next to poems she liked. Done in pencil – I hope it never fades… I treasure those little marks.

Rosemary’s poem on page 61 ‘Flowers in March’ was written on St Patrick’s Day in March 2003.

I too sat newly arrived in Ireland, watching that same parade on the television, in March, 2003 and wrote on the same theme.

Baghdad Ballet

A young boy sits, on his mother’s shoulders,

smile-excited in the sunshine, taking part

in a parade. He proudly thrusts the finger

-sign of peace. Nice to see in an Iraqi child

– family bombardered by ‘Shock and Awe’

the night before, apparently forgiving.

But the visual is blitzed as it flashes onscreen,

by the plastic Sten-gun held aloft, back-

ground brandished in the child’s other hand.

Do you think the young lad plays in secret tunnels,

knows where to hide, where doubles walk

to keep the myth alive, the magic tricks

to keep awake illusions of a still-controlled-city.

Streetlights burn in defiance of invaders largess.

Traffic moves through the night while

bright glows explode in distant thunder

shower shrapnel. We sit on green comfy

sofas, presumed warm and safe inside,

miles away watching the performance

on TV young Liam wears red and white,

holds his defiant hurely high – a warrior

enjoying the sunshine day parade

– a protest for peace in Shannon…

#FrancesMacaulayForde #RosemaryCanavan #SalmonPoetry #JessieLendennie #SalmonBookshop #CliffsOfMoher #Poetry #IrishPoet

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Reading: “Dogs Singing”

Posted in Animals, Books, Ireland, Poetry, Writers, Writing, tagged DogsSinging, Frances Macaulay Forde, JessieLendennie, SalmonBookshop, SalmonPoetry on September 6, 2014| 1 Comment »

My friend Jessie Lendennie, poet and Salmon Poetry publisher extraordinaire loves dogs so much, she called on poetic friends to send their poems about dogs for a tribute anthology; “Dogs Singing”.

The result is a book I keep on my desk to savor, to delve into, every now an then.

I still miss my own faithful Butchy – often feel him pacing outside the back door and fancy I catch a glimpse of him checking the garden, as I hang the washing.

This poem by Desmond Gough is simply called “Zach” appears on page 61 of 417 pages.