The Gift

2nd in Irish cycle, Heaney

Not quite old school, 

nearer to the new 

spawning sensibilities --

dipping a toe 

into the gravelly wash 

of waters pouring out 

off Eachaidh’s sacred lough -- 

capering senses 

sliding in to otter’s 

plashing coat 

of syllables, invitation 

to how a language 

splayed in the prenominal 

hands of a craftsman -- 

opened eyes and 

ears to other ignota 

lingua. Gift 

to seeing the whole 

nest of things, midden 

tissue of connective lodes 

stripped to the essential  

ore of sentience --

clear cut cognisance 

to ways motive and 

tension jointed 

to make something 

sturdier, less delicate. 

Artless art.  

  

In time reading 

like digging, became 

a spade’s compulsion 

to peel away 

the metaphorical peat  

of disintegrating beats 

to new potatoes -- 

a poem’s poem.

Ken e Bujold

Reviews

[1809 Black Plague Decem..]

oh wow, I love it; many intricacies;
the lover's forbidden, and a lost language,
great write!
----Maynard

[Ken e Bujold]

Thank you M. This is part of my suite on the Irish poets who inspired me to write. Waking Yeats, One April Mourning, Plough Shares are all part of it, though all have been revised for inclusion in my next collection.
Glad you enjoyed. Not sure if you are familiar with the works but highly reco Heaney, Yeats, Kavanagh, Muldoon, MacNeice to any writer starting out who wants a true grounding in how language works

ken

[1809 Black Plague December]

you are most welcome, I sea, I love Irland. Sott land is a little marsh, but love both; it is a battle, I heresay, :S

[Cherrie Palmer]

Poetry is like the turning of the soil whether it is digging with a spade or a earth mover.
I look forward to the next poem, and in my opinion it's worth the work for a mess of new potatoes in deed or metaphorically

[W. Barrett Munn]

Obviously, after reading the interview I have a greater understanding of this work. One thing SH said sticks with me of how some words have an almost secondary visceral and unstated understanding so those words can do double or even triple duty, In this piece what I enjoyed most in diction choice ignota lingua, it really rolls from the tongue. The references to spades and potatoes was an excellent choice for closing this particular door.

Winston

[Ken e Bujold]

spades and potatoes chosen in order to lead into what will be the third poem, Kavanagh's. Obvious choice there is to lead off with tip of cap to The Great Hunger, his epic to rural Irish sons of the potato fields. It is also the longest of the three, and achingly taking its time to congeal.
Original idea of the three: Aging Yeats against my youthful ignorance; Heaney opening my mind to language and drawing from the well of human experience as much as self; Kavanagh to return to roots of man I have become. Of the three K is most definitely the one requiring the perspective of years to fully appreciate. When all three are put alongside one another will act (hopefully) like a Triptych to my journey