Live Encounters Poetry & Writing January 2025
In the Era of Dictionaries, poems by Terry Mcdonagh.
In the Era of Dictionaries
In the era of hardback dictionaries
I was young and proud
to be the bearer of a mighty book –
bigger than a bible,
all bound, covered, arranged, dressed
and as full of mystery as any dream.
It nourished and defied me
with reams of words – all fresh,
smirking and nonchalant as you like.
It didn’t ever complain when I dog-eared
while snatching at elusive meaning
like a young saint sucking up sanctified water
from an eternal spring.
Dear Dictionary,
I haven’t lost respect or forgotten but,
like others, I’ve joined the net race
to look elsewhere for untried language
and on evenings when noises die down
I see you – quiet as an endless autumn –
smiling down from a top shelf,
urging me to sit on a granary step
in a canopy of calm among breezes,
perusing and skimming through leaves,
as song-birds sing songs I’d like to sing.
After all,
we are of element, word and creature.
We are one.
The Law Graduate
and the Stolen Bicycle
Admittedly, it was weekend and very late
which meant the policeman
could have committed a grave error of judgement
even a blunder, error, lapse or slip – but no,
only the departed could not have seen
the law graduate swinging a loose leg
hither and tither over a crossbar
like one coming down with love sickness,
like a mythical mushroom
trying to find its way onto a film set.
I live so far away, Officer.
The bike was lying there
and I’m a law graduate
on my way home from
a holy city in the Orient
hoping to avoid sunburn
and lads along the way.
There is no crime.
A restless air filled the darkness.
He wondered if she was trying
to take the mickey – if she was waiting
for the next breath to come upon her
– lovely and all as she was –
before the east began to fill with sun.
But the voice of reason will say
blushes can be hard to detect before dawn,
and disturbing moments
can come upon an officer
on duty – at first, a disturbance
might seem nothing louder
than the sting of feral sand
by a windy seashore or
the yelp of a rabbit in the jaws of a fox,
but when a wily love-potion
darts out of a nowhere corner,
lost to all eyes except one,
and thoughts – soft as sighs
fix upon an unlikely law graduate,
there comes a cry of one struck
by one hot thought after another.
I am almost not myself he pleads
and being more poem than person,
I call upon the doves of the air
and mockingbirds on perches
to advise me on how to get a stolen bike
to vanish and find its own way home.
In the blazing blue of morning,
they were not rational.
Even with closed eyes, he could see
she hardly touched the ground.
When he dared to peep again,
the bike that had come between them
had evaporated into what was left of the dawn chorus.
© Terry McDonagh
Terry McDonagh, Irish poet and dramatist has worked in Europe, Asia and Australia. He’s taught creative writing at Hamburg University and was Drama Director at Hamburg International School. Published eleven poetry collections, letters, drama, prose and poetry for young people. In March 2022, he was poet in residence and Grand Marshal as part of the Saint Patrick’s Day celebrations in Brussels. His work has been translated into German and Indonesian. His poem, ‘UCG by Degrees’ is included in the Galway Poetry Trail on Galway University campus. In 2020, Two Notes for Home – a two-part radio documentary, compiled and presented by Werner Lewon, on The Life and Work of Terry McDonagh, The Modern Bard of Cill Aodáin. His latest poetry collection, ‘Two Notes for Home’ – published by Arlen House – September 2022. He returned to live in County Mayo in 2019. www.terry-mcdonagh.com