A Sylvia Plath inspired poetry showcase by Robin McNamara

Robin McNamara is an Irish poet. Hisdebut chapbook Under a Mind’s Staircasewas published in June 2021 (Hedgehog Poetry Press UK). His forthcoming full collection, Monochrome Heart is being published in late 2022. He was nominated for the Pushcart Prize for ‘Apple Picking Season’from Under a Mind’s Staircase.  

Postcard From an Exiled Heart

I watched a documentary on North Korea
the day after you said, 
My heart is unwatered. 

I learnt about a different culture 
in another world with another perspective 
on life. It reminded me of you.
 
When my iPhone trills with your 
good morning text. I can’t help but think 
of Janus, the god of beginnings and endings.  


We’ve lived lives of regrets and if we could 
do it all again. I don’t think we would 
have done anything different,
 
while at fifty we still react to half a heart. 
One part eaten by men of her past the other 
half, seedless and barren. 

The Waste of Minds

When the light is softer in the morning
A gasp of an autumn day appears 
Awoken from slumber and summer heat
Which cools to early dark evenings again. 
A bed of leaves at my feet a promise 
Of living room fire and books of poetry.
The seasons are changing but my words;
They do no such thing to the minds that
Refuse to flow. I could die today and perhaps 
People will say he was a fine man but alas 
The smartphone is more powerful than death 
and has domain over lives lived / unloved
Our demise passes no resemblance to fast lives
Unthinking past the absent scrolling.  
A semblance of hope remains in our poetry 
In defiance of the age of the waste of minds.


Auguries in the Water

you 
are an old-aged rained river 
submerged in susurration of 
a memory    lucent 
with hope 
that lasted until winter

you
are a sliver of light emerging 
from summer water
the jumping salmon    just an augury 
long gone               the body is water 
the flow of skin and the submerged heart

like driftwood        the river floods 
memories into mud    silt    coarse
with bone     the ebb of an autumn 
tide slowly tugs at the moorings
holding the reminiscences of 
you





By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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