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#moyra donaldson
dk-thrive · 6 months
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Last night I dreamt that we were young again and loved each other fiercely with our bodies. It was in the midst of ruin even then, the roof collapsing in, dust and debris all around. Ah but we were fearless in the face of time.
— Moyra Donaldson, "Fearless" from her collection 'Carnivorous’ (Doire Press, January 1, 2019)
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'Fearless' by Moyra Donaldson, from her collection 'Carnivorous'...
[Irish Centre for Poetry Studies]
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poem-today · 7 months
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A poem by Moyra Donaldson
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Mary Patterson
Plied with gin, stupefied, Burke's knee on my breast, till the life is pressed out of me, then I'm delivered to your door
and it was one thing Dr Knox, who buys the beef, to take my body, for professional scientific purposes, for the greater good, so to speak,
and for certain my body  was worth more as dead meat - I'd hitch up my skirts for just a few coins in the shadows of Canongate, Whereas you paid seven pounds and ten shillings -
but to lay me out like that, naked on the couch, sensuously arranged under the flickering candlelight, my dead face seductively turned to the audience, and a white sheet draped teasingly over my calves,
and then have me sketched before my dissection -
now that's a disgrace. What were you thinking?
And you, Mr Ferguson, surgeon in training, looking at me, in your professional capacity
as I looked at you in mine just two nights previous. You still want to use me?
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Moyra Donaldson
Listen to Moyra Donaldson read her poem.
Image: Mary Patterson as Venus (1828) a pencil sketch by John Oliphant of a young woman named Mary Patterson.
Note: The most notorious victim of the Edinburgh murderers William Burke and William Hare was Mary Paterson, a prostitute about eighteen years old, “well known” to Burke, who was “cut short in her sinful career” on 9 April 1828. Her body was purchased for the distinguished anatomist Dr Robert Knox, whose doorkeeper David Paterson (no relation) admired the “beautiful symmetry and freshness of the body”. Knox's students were similarly struck by her “handsome” corpse, some even making sketches of it. David Paterson claimed he had asked Burke how he obtained the body, and was told that Mary had died of drink.   Knox's rival Robert Liston was said to have remonstrated with Knox about Mary Paterson in front of his class before knocking him down and removing the body for burial, but this chivalrous incident probably never happened: Burke claimed in his confession that Mary’s body was dissected and Dr Lonsdale confirmed this.   More recently, Knox has been accused of preserving Mary’s body in alcohol for his lectures on muscles, a course he would hardly have taken had he suspected the true cause of her death. Still less would he have permitted artist John Oliphant to make this post-mortem drawing of Mary as Venus, as part of a study of the anatomical basis of beauty. [From a recent biography of Robert Knox].
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tikkisaram · 5 years
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Something Shamrocking — My Top Seven Irish Poems
These poems are 'Irish' for having been written by poets from Ireland, but also in that they capture something central to Irish identity. The selection is wide due to the sheer diversity of Irish culture, as well as the nation's rich history! ;^)
1. Moyra Donaldson - Nest
While the masses will often refer to actors born in the Northern Ireland who identify as Irish as such, the same luxury is not given to poets. Poor Donaldson is often misidentified as British, so I had to include her in my Irish pweek! This poem discusses both the beauty of horses and their unmatched loyalty. The horse in this poem is abandoned by its owner and waits in the same spot until their death — a haunting image indeed. This image is a clever metaphor for British people not being interested in the Irish who suffered terribly under their rule. Let this poem be a warning that we all need to take care of that which we are responsible for!
My horse is waiting, Bright and patient, His skin sunlight And his breath air Amongst the moss His bones are white and dry
2. Eva Gore Booth - The Eternal Rebel
Gore Booth is the sister of one of Ireland’s most famous women in history — Countess Constance Markievicz. While Markievicz took to the streets to fight for what she believed in, Gore Booth performed her activism through poetry. This is a deeply sad poem about soldiers being haunted by past demons and their injuries; Gore Booth ensures that these people are not forgotten and reminds us that their cause of eventual peace was more than worthy.
Free soul of fire, break down their chains and bars, Drive out those unclean phantoms of the brain, Till every living thing be friends again, And our lost earth true comrade to the stars.
3. Brendan Kennelly - Begin
I consider this beautifully uplifting poem especially suited for the list because I wanted to include an entry featuring swans, the importance of which in Irish mythology and culture cannot be overstated. While I thought about including a poem about the classic Irish myth of The Children of Lír for this slot, I realized that it would not be fair to ignore this already-great poem with swans in it. Kennelly describes the birds perfectly, realising that they are graceful from a distance but that up close they can be quite rude animals. They often do not travel in groups and they do not seem able to communicate with other species. Swans are rarely included in poems about everyday Irish life so it is nice to see Kennelly break from normativity! ;^)
Begin to the pageant of queuing girls the arrogant loneliness of swans in the canal
4. Gofraidh Fionn Ó Dálaigh - A chláirsioch Chnuic Í Chosgair
I simply had to include a poem in ancient Gaelic on this list; it is one of the most beautiful languages that I know, which is really saying something. This poem is equally beautiful and discuses how harps are superior to other instruments. This poet from the 14th century takes their time in detailing all that the national instrument of Ireland has managed to accomplish — including keeping them from committing sins!
A bháthadh gacha croinn chiúil, a chrann taitneamhach taidhiúir, a chomhnaidhi eidir chloinn gCoinn, a chroinn donnbhuidhi dhíoghainn
5. Uinsionn Ó Domhaill - An deoch is fearr
Modern Irish is as under appreciated as the ancient Gaelic, so I wanted to include both. Luckily I speak both language fluently so had a wide range of options to chose from. I found this cute poem about tea by the skilled modern writer Ó Domhaill to be perfect for our pweek; I chose tea over whiskey as both are national drinks of Ireland and one is clearly superior to the other. ;^)
Cupa tae, Is maith liom é, Am ar bith, I rith an lae.
6. Seamus Heaney - The Early Purges
Loyal Tikki Troops will understand that I simply had to include Heaney this week. This poem describes the brutal relationship between life and death in rural life; of course — as is the case with most of Heaney’s poetry — there is an underlying queer aspect here. Heaney laments the fact that in cities and places of large populations one would find it extremely difficult to get away with murdering a homosexual or beating them until they claim their sexuality has changed; in more isolated areas, however, it is much easier for such behaviour to go unchallenged. I admire how Heaney chooses such an interesting way of putting his suffering into words! :^(
'Prevention of cruelty' talk cuts ice in town Where they consider death unnatural But on well-run farms pests have to be kept down.
7. Samuel Lover - The Four-Leaved Shamrock
Lover is more famous for his songs than for his poetry; this is a shame, because he has written some truly beautiful verse. This is my favourite of his poems, and it is about one of Ireland’s most important symbols to boot. It is believed that finding a four-leaved shamrock will bring you luck and good fortune; Lover doesn’t want to use this luck on himself, however, but on those less fortunate than he is. What a selfless soul — surely worthy of his last name! ;^)
I'll seek a four-leaved shamrock in all the fairy dells, And if I find the charmed leaves, oh, how I'll weave my spells! I would not waste my magic might on diamond, pearl, or gold, For treasure tires the weary sense,—such triumph is but cold; But I would play th' enchanter's part, in casting bliss around,— Oh! not a tear, nor aching heart, should in the world be found
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studio25atsolitude · 4 years
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Entries are now invited for the Mairtín Crawford Literary Awards. I’m delighted to be the 2021 Poetry Judge alongside Moyra Donaldson. Click for more information!
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markulyseas · 4 years
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limejuicer1862 · 5 years
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Wombwell Rainbow Interviews
I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.
The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.
Moyra Donaldson
is a poet and creative writing facilitator from Co Down. She has published eight collections of poetry including a Selected Poems and most recently, Carnivorous, from Doire Press. Her awards include the Women’s National Poetry Competition, The Allingham Award, Cuirt New Writing Award, North West Words Poetry Award and the Belfast Year of the Writer Award. She has received four awards from ACNI, including the ACES award in its inaugural year.
Also widely published in magazines, journals and anthologies in both Europe, Australia and the USA. Her poems have featured on BBC Radio and television and on American national radio and television and she has read at festivals in Europe, Canada and America. Other projects include a collaboration with photographic artist Victoria J Dean resulting in an exhibition and the publication Abridged 0 -36 Dis-Ease, and a collaboration with Wexford artist Paddy Lennon, Blood Horses, culminating in a limited edition publication of artworks and poems.
http://moyradonaldson.blogspot.com/
The Interview
1. What inspired you to write poetry?/Who introduced you to poetry?
I was introduced to poetry in the same way that I think most of us are, by the nursery rhymes my mother sang and recited to me as a child. Then, from an early age I was sent to verse speaking classes. This gave me a great appreciation for the sound and rhythm of poetry. I loved learning poems off by heart and being able to speak them aloud. My teacher was Miss Drummond, a formidable but splendid woman, graduate of the Guildhall School of Music and Drama. I learnt so much from her and kept up her classes into my late teens. So I grew up with a love of poetry, the music of it as well as how it speaks to the heart. It was my love for poetry that inspired me to try to write poems, I wanted to be able to speak to people in the way that poets spoke to me.
2. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older writers?
I grew up at a time when most of the poetry that was taught in school had been written by male poets and as I got older I became aware of a lack of female voices. When I went to university the canon seemed to be almost entirely male. This really knocked my confidence and had the effect of making me feel my voice was in some way invalid. At that time, women in NI didn’t have much of a voice in any aspect of society – and poetry was no different. I struggled to find any contemporary Irish female writers. I have spoken about this before, the influence of absences, and have found that it has been a common experience for women. Thankfully times are changing and female voices are increasingly present. In Ireland, Fired; The Woman’s Cannon movement has done much recently to address the idea that no women were writing and being published; they were – it was just that they were being ignored. So for me, when I began writing, the dominating presence was male.
3. What is your daily writing routine?
When I was younger and working full time in a job that had no connection to writing, and also raising children and coping with all the other things that life brings along, I would do most of my writing late at night when the house was quiet. There was no routine as such, I just grabbed bits of time when they became available. I also found the support of the Arts Council of Northern Ireland absolutely invaluable. Through Support for the Individual Artist awards, I was able to ‘buy’ time off work and have stretches of a few months where I could concentrate on writing. Now that I’m retired, in theory I have lots more time, but in fact I have no more of a routine than I ever had! I write when I have something to write about, either when an idea compels me, or I have a commission or deadline of some kind.
4. What motivates you to write?
I have always wanted to write. Even when I was at primary school I wrote stories and poems. I suppose I sensed, even then, the power of words and stories. I loved reading and I wanted to be part of that world, to speak to others, entertain them and weave my own magic. That urge has stayed with me. Even though my experience at university silenced me for a while, the desire was still there and I couldn’t not return to it. If I examine my motivation now, it’s more complex. Sometimes I feel as if I do it simply because it is who I am.
5. What is your work ethic?
I don’t know if I have a work ethic! Whilst thinking about this question I looked up the meaning of ‘work ethic’ and found it is defined as – the principle that hard work is intrinsically virtuous or worthy of reward. I suppose over the years I have just kept on writing and producing work, and that persistence is something that I am proud of, but I don’t know that it is intrinsically virtuous or worthy of reward. I do think that you have to be able to stick at things in order to improve, in order to have a chance of being any good at whatever it is that you are trying to do. All of my life I have been involved with horses and around people who compete in eventing and show jumping. I am in awe of the dedication and sheer hard slog that it takes to excel at this sport (and I’m sure all sports are the same). It’s not enough to be talented, you have to put in the hours as well.
6. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?
When I get a little jaded I find myself returning to the poets and poetry that I loved as I was growing up. I still can remember some of the poetry I learnt by heart and it is the musicality, rhythm and sensuousness of the language that I love. The sound of the poem, as much as the meaning. I am still influenced by that. Ballads, sonnets, the lusciousness of the language of the Romantics, the wit and intelligence of the Metaphysical poets – these are the roots of my love of poetry.
7. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?
The poets I admire the most are those who write with heart as well as intellect. Poets where it is possible to sense in their work a deep engagement with what it means to be human. Just recently I’ve been re-reading Jane Hirshfield and Naomi Shihab Nye. I was blown away by Ocean Vuong’s first collection. I love Mark Doty’s work too. I find myself reading a lot of American poets. There are so many local poets that I also deeply admire, Damian Smyth, Jean Bleakney, Paul Maddern, Maria McManus, Ruth Carr  – the list could go on and on – we have so many wonderful writers in NI.
8. Why do you write as opposed to doing anything else?
Sometimes I think I write because I can’t sing! Also, I don’t feel defined by my writing. I do lots of other things too, and sometimes I like to do nothing at all. I think that leads to a healthier relationship with the job of being a poet.
9. What would you say to someone who asked you ‘How do you become a writer’?
On one level, this is a very simple question. You become a writer by writing. All the usual instructions apply – read a lot, practice your craft, develop your skills and voice. On another level, I feel it is a lot more complex. If you want to be actually recognised as a writer, a lot of other things come into play – a willingness and ability to promote yourself; fashion; privilege; fashion; determination; the zeitgeist. So many variables, including a slice of luck.
10. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment
My new collection, Carnivorous, has just been published by Doire Press. It was recently launched at the Belfast Book Festival and I have been lucky enough to have quite a few readings lined up for the book.
Last year my big project was Blood Horses, a collaboration with Wexford artist Paddy Lennon. I had been writing poems about horses, centred on the stories of three Arab stallions, the Byerley Turk, the Darley Arabian and the Godolphin Barb. These three stallions, imported to England in the eighteenth century, were the founding fathers of the Thoroughbred horse, and in fact every Thoroughbred alive today can have its lineage traced back to one of these stallions. When I was working on these poems, I came across Paddy’s wonderful, atmospheric paintings of horses. I got in touch with him and the outcome was an exhibition and limited edition book containing both paintings and poems. This is a rolling project which we are taking to a number of venues, including racecourses. I am also currently working on a commission from Big Telly Theatre Company. I have worked with them before and love their innovative approach to theatre, so it’s very exciting to have this commission from them. I find that after a new book is completed, there tends to be a bit of a fallow period, but I am just starting to get a few ideas popping into my head for poems, so I’m looking forward to having time to develop those.
Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Moyra Donaldson Wombwell Rainbow Interviews I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me.
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thechangelingmedusa · 7 years
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Our bird table is an exuberant Babel’s tower of seed and suet, fat throated song and winged plenty. Blue tit, blackbird, siskin, robin, chaffinch, bullfinch, greenfinch, collared dove; then a punch of air, as sparrow hawk takes sparrow from in front of my eyes. Breast feathers, speckles of blood on the newly mown lawn.
Moyra Donaldson, Feeding the Birds
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tikkisaram · 5 years
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Tomorrow they'll pretend it's all ok, tell me there's nothing to worry about, as if I'm just a kid and don't know what's happening, mum's eyes all red from crying, dad not talking and drinking too much and maybe leaving.
Moyra Donaldson, I'm Not Stupid
Moyra Donaldson is a poet who has struggled extensively with prejudice, being both bisexual and a catholic growing up in County Down during the troubles in Northern Ireland. Not only was she subjected to the external pressures of society; in this poem, we get a glimpse of her troubled childhood and the psychological stresses exerted on her in those days. The use of enjambment — three times in six lines: "they'll/pretend"; "tell me/there's nothing"; "don't know/what's happening" — conveys her mental anguish and the urgency of the situation. The cacophony in "dad not talking and drinking too much" highlights the harsh and unloving attitude of her father, which in contrasting with the presentation of the mother exposes the patriarchal hierarchy permeating the familial structure. Each line is cleverly longer than the previous, expressing the child's increasing anxiety and her increasingly chaotic train of thought. I'm impressed that she managed to persevere and convert her suffering into such fine art! ;^)
I rate this quote 8/10 Tollymores.
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A woman addresses her body by Moyra Donaldson
For all my talk of soul, it was you
always, sweet little beast, amoral animal, who showed me the ways of Love, its passions and crucifixions.
The artist, the anatomist, the poet and the surgeon, they have seen the glory in you; you beatified them in the moments where they believed.
You are my way, my truth, my life; I am what you have made of me and still I do not know the limits of you, or where you will take me next.
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markulyseas · 4 years
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thechangelingmedusa · 7 years
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Commit to one to the process of deforming pruning wiring branch leaf and root cut tenderly with the sharpest of blades Through perseverance skill and endurance force nature to take the shape you desire
Moyra Donaldson, Bonsai
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thechangelingmedusa · 7 years
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Those moments, returning to memory time after time and memory turning to them time after time, like prayer beads; smoothed, perfected in the telling
Moyra Donaldson, Comfort
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thechangelingmedusa · 7 years
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I'm stumbling over pieces of my soul, re-finding myself, recognising myself all over again in each image through time, and in the sum of then and then and then...
Moyra Donaldson, Looking Through my Old Photographs
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