My Squat Pen

My Squat Pen

I want to be like Seamus Heaney,

my squat pen

resting between my finger and my thumb.

I long to dig for words,

to slice those sods of turf

until I see verse form from the dark earth

of my newly turned thoughts;

like those Heaney spilled in his warm, brogue narrative.

All day I would slog in those fields ‘til my sweat turned barren furrows full

and fed the empty parchment in my head.

I long to see the world

with the clarity and simplicity he did;

use his clear sage’s eyes,

like rough farmer’s calloused hands

upon the potter’s wheel;

carving his prose from unglazed, shattered shards

so neatly planted in coloured,

polished mosaics of perfect poetry.

They hang raw as a fresh stripped cow’s carcass

swinging from meat hooks

above the butcher’s block.

Words and phrases that smell of damp mud, and peat,

and the unwashed skin of honest toil,

and the smoke of many battles with the devil,

and the taste of blood

where lips have been broken by the brutal boot of occupation.

 

04/09/13

Author's Note

Reviews

[Siddhartha Chatterjee]

What a wonderful tribute to Mr. Heaney. There is some tasteful weaving of words and longing throughout the poem. Loved this piece.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you Sid. Heaney could always convey sights and smells and emotion. I wish I had 10% of his talent.

[Mrudula Rani]

Poetry is always slightly mysterious, and you wonder what is your relationship to it.- Seamus Heaney
Your admiration and desire to write like the way this Noble Laureate did is heartwarmingly beautiful, John.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

He is one of the true poets. Many thanks Mrudula

[Mrudula Rani]

You are most welcome.

[kentuck14]

John,
What a perfect peon to that great Irish poet. Well written . . . seems carefully crafted with great admiration for the poetry of Heaney. He will be missed.
Tom

[John Alexander McFadyen]

He is well celebrated and left a legacy that few get to leave. An inspiration to many. Many thank yous Tom.

[Eilis]

Ah, Digging. One of the first poems I read of Heaney’s. I love the way you’ve played off of his style and words here, but kept it so essentially you. His spirit is everywhere in the lines. The meaty earthy tactile world of Seamus Heaney. Excellent, John.

I was in contact with some Irish poets when Heaney passed, and was fascinated to learn what he meant to his country. A true national poet in a time when it is not easy to be such. Your poem does the man proud, and also showcases your own talent with imagery and lyric poetry.

Glad you pointed me to this, I really enjoyed the reading.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed and my first too. Thank you Eilis. I am in awe of the way Heaney takes an everyday scene and is able to give it texture and sound and smell.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Ya know not everything in life can be roses and honeysuckle. What a picture, sight, sounds and smells for sure.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I learned this from Seamus Heaney and his poem 'Digging'. Amazing writing. Thanks Cherrie.

[Courtney]

This is a beautifully written poem that I view as a lovely tribute to the late, great poet, Seamus Heaney. I love the heartfelt aspect of it, with wishing to dig deeper to achieve what you truly want from your writing and from yourself. In short, I love this piece :)

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Many thanks Courtney

[Angi]

I have just recently discovered Seamus Heaney. This is a wonderfully descriptive poem, John. I long to be like Heaney, too. Angi~

[annie lee]

What a great tribute to an incredible voice now lost to us. Your descriptions of the process you wish to emulate is gritty, powerful and sensual. You evoke vivid panoramic images with these words, replete with the smell of the earth, the feel of the wet peat, the edge of a cold wind. Really brilliant.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Many thanks Annie

[SHEEMA HUQ]

I found this poem to be unusual, and I appreciated your descriptions, very atmospheric with a fine selection of vocabulary, well done.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you Sheema, I was thinking of Seamus Heaney when I wrote it.