Delve into our archive of poems from love to hate to dogs to Ireland.

Cold winter mourning

by Sophie-Mae Turner

Everything dying…
Now everything’s dead
Everything’s noises, are quiet instead
All the world’s silent
All the world’s white
With bleak, dark days
And cold, clear nights.



by Tara Dempsey 

Beidh Éire a bheith saor lá amháin.

Saor in aisce mar na héin sa spéir.

Saor in aisce mar an fharraige na hÉireann.


Earlier that evening she’d followed him away

Away from home into her city she’d crept into the fray


But now she stood among the stars not a man in sight

“Where are you, Pa? Where are you?” She called into the night


Red hair in curling ringlets, sparkling shamrock eyes

A sweet, naïve Gaelic child on a pile of debris of sighs


Just a week before this was the ‘Rebel’s Easter Rising’

And where she waited all alone still echoed such despising


The hopeful speech, the noble words, they made no sense to her

For she was just a child of 8, it passed her in a blur


Her nimble hands and agile feet brought her to the ground

She headed off into the night searching, looking round


The city like a ghost town, no one dared to step outside

All they saw was a green coated girl, a small and fragile sight


After hours of hopeful walking she saw him in the light

He lay upon the cool, crisp ground, bloody from the fight


He looked at her with eyes like stars as a sentence left his heart

“Beidh Éire a bheith saor, mo ghrá. Slán, go foill, mo Shaoirse.”


She laid her head upon his chest and closed her eyes to sleep

She’d stay with him until the dawn his dying wish she’d keep


No one saw that Gaelic girl, the girl in the green coat

But she kept his dying wish, she kept his dying quote





By Mark Kealy

Netflix, with its vast repertoire of engagment lying just within reach and the joyful entertainment it can bring.

Duck, with its aromatic scent wafting through the hallway.
with a blissful explosion of volcanic proportions enveloping my tastebuds.

Hoisin sauce, and its ability to augment its accompaniments to divine perfection.
Blissfuly out shining all other condiments.

Youtube, with all the knowledge and wisdom I should ever require,
Carefully accumulated into one godly collection.

Lock picking, and its unmastered challenge’s almost omnipotent power the techniques can lend.
The deep secrecy that shrouds this rare skill.

Martial Arts, and its incredible technic and terrifying speed it so commonly displays,
The age and history and science hidden behind every strike and block.

Swords, the unwavering dedication required to create such a simple yet beautiful object,
The strength of such a thin blade and the fear and awe it brings.

Chess, the simple yet challenging age old game.
The popularity and superiority of a game so common place

How people bug me!

Jennie Barker

It bugs me when people eat aloud
It bugs me when people speak too loud

It bugs me when people are not bothered to learn
It bugs me when people always talk out of turn

It bugs me when people leave others out
It bugs me when people do duck face and pout

It bugs me when people give me loads of trouble
It bugs me when all of these things make my blood boil and bubble

 If I can

Sean Fitzpatrick

If I can stop time in an instant
I shall not live in vain
If I can stop someone from dying
Or save a child from hunger
To start world peace
I shall not live in vain
But what if I can’t ?
What if I cannot achieve this ?
Shall I live in vain ?



Grace Holmes

Everyday he would visit her,
Hoping for a pull through,
Hoping she would wake up,
The same girl,
The same sweet girl,
His daughter.

He would return,
Same time, everyday,
Just waiting,
People tried to tell him,
You have to prepare for the worst,
But he always replied,
“You prepare for the worst, I’ll wait’
And that’s what he did.

He waited and waited,
He still had hope,
Nothing would pull him from her side,
People still ask where he is,
I always reply,
“He’s still waiting”


 Love Poem

Thomas McGlynn

It was hard at first, to keep it all bottled up inside
And then one day it all just spilled out
All those feelings and confessions
Pouring out of my mouth

But then she confessed as well
Much to my amazement and surprise
Couldn’t believe it really, why me, of all people?
Whatever the reason, I didn’t mind at all

But I took it for granted, let it slip, what an idiot
I got selfish, thinking: “She’s mine now, it’s not as if she has a mind of her own
It’s not as if she could change her mind
It’s not as if she could decide to stop loving”.

Well, it was a nice time while it lasted
I wasn’t exactly heartbroken, I felt more experienced
Wiser, more knowledgeable
Knowing not to make the same mistake again.