Kate Ennals – A Daisy Chain for my Father

Kate Ennals LEP&W Sept-Oct V1 2022

Download PDF Here Live Encounters Poetry & Writing Volume One Sept-October 2022. 

A Daisy Chain for my Father, poems by Kate Ennals.


A Daisy Chain for my Father

The curve of his spine as he sits at the table
The whisper of page as he skims his newspaper
The gigantic of we with me on his shoulders
The clam of his forehead clutched by my fingers
The brick of pub beneath my plump of legs
The twist of blue salt in a crinkle of crisps
The cleft of his chin beneath the thin of his lips
The rise and fall of his belly during his afternoon kip

The delicate of daisies I thread to chain him to me
The snap when he wakes and shakes me away.


I do not know how I came to be

under a blue sky and a green tree
dressed in a red coat
bare feet
clutching a one-eyed teddy
in an un-gloved hand
beneath a shower of samara seeds

l stretch to grasp one spinning past
It lands on the grass.
I squat to examine
its paper wings, its woody heart
sniff clods of soil, rain, petrichor
I pick it up, then hear a voice

For the love of Christ
child, how did you escape?
Come back here
You’re not supposed …

And so, my world begins its flow


The Inchoateness of Being

Each step is dredged from silt
every smile is a wedge of lip

fixed by genetic modification, pandemics,
politics, hash tag poisoned umbrellas
eagles with golf balls stuck in their throats
wars, dead black coral, child soldiers.

I’m exhausted scratching poems
that bring the inchoateness of being
into an expressible state*

*Seamus Heaney


Dragonflies and Damsels

A winged flash of iridescent blue
flits from green shoots
alights on a water willow
its membrane wings as soft
as the gasp of a child
whimsical
like a sideways glance.

In Scotland, the damsel
is a water witch
the dragon is feared
a hobgoblin fly

In Japan, the damsel
is a symbol of strength

In Indonesia, the dragon
is flipped
deep fried.


Coupling

after Francois Villion

There is no chimney sweep nor infant born
without a nemesis to reflect its own

Couplets writhe in ecstasy and pleasure
but each day, line up, soldiers with weapons

With a polished step, cruelty tangos with kindness
a delicate ankle in a red, sharp stiletto

A punch is futile without a driving passion
packed with love, hate, determination.

Innocence only exists without experience
as death is the only true blossom of living.


© Kate Ennals

Kate Ennalsis a poet and writer and has published poems and short stories in a range of literary and on-line journals (Crannog, Skylight 47, Honest Ulsterman, The International Lakeview Journal, Boyne Berries, North West Words, Crossways, The Blue Nib, Dodging the Rain, The Ogham Stone, plus many more). Her first collection of poetryAt The Edge (Lapwing) was published in 2015. Her second collection, Threads (Lapwing), was published in April 2018. Her third collection, Elsewhere (Vole Imprint), in November 21. Her fourth, Practically A Wake, will be published next year (Salmon Poetry). She has lived in Ireland for nearly 30 years and currently runs poetry and writing workshops in County Cavan. Kate also runs At The Edge, Cavan, a literary reading evening, funded by the Cavan Arts Office. Her blog can be found at kateennals.com. She is currently on the board of PEN na h’Eireann/PEN Ireland. 

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