Aine MacAodha
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The Sin Eater (poem)
The Sin Eater Together we sat on the confessional bench listening to the clicking of heels on mosaic tiles, awaiting the queue to die. A lady who lived in god’s house, watched us girls with her salmon eye, every move we made. Whispered penances festooned the lofty chapel, orderly shuffling from oldies denoted, our turn now, our sins would be eaten. The gridded partition creaked like old knuckles. I almost forgot ‘bless me father’ as my knees located a softer spot on the floor. Beads sang in A distracting manner.
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- 590 reads
Dear Sir, (poem)
DEAR SIR Dear Sir, Please excuse my sons absence He slept in We slept in The night before he studied into the small hours the mechanics of Skateboarding counting new bruises and fading others how he can ‘ollie’ sets of steps without broken marrow, it releases his anger. How the words of Curt Cobain relates to his 180 degree kick flip and the thrill of a half pipe. That being 16 messes with his head no one understands. And how is it fair, his girlfriend lives ten mile away and he’s no car, why work at the weekend tires him and grunge pulls him through.
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- 673 reads
The Sperrin Mountains
The Sperrins Take A dander over Peat clad slopes find the ancient past alive on the fringes of the Sperrins. Pigeon top, a silent view. Absorb, sponge like, the secrets of the Mass rock were hooded priests pray in whispers. Beagmore stone circles retell hardships of bronze age man, Strong, creative, protective of family clan. The Olgham stone of Greencastle, notches ingrained, communicators of the barren landscape. Take A dander over the Sperrins, sense the myths hidden in bedrock, hear the echos of the past re-claimed.
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- 763 reads