An Caoineadh by Brid Mary Harnett

An caoineadh, finality, a shriek, a wail of odes, some of which may never be told. The caoineadh, an gol mar a deirtear, unleashing the souls of those dearest to the earth of Ire, of tribes long forgotten, combed out and whittled by the banshee until all cultural marks of identification transpire and evaporate into …

Anthology 2017

The date for the launch of our latest publication, Anthology 2017, has been selected and we are back in business in The Irish Writers Centre on Parnell Square near Findlaters Church. Hope to see you all there.

Spring Afternoon, Dublin by Orla Ni Sheaghdha

The sun bathes Dublin in glorious light on a crisp Saturday afternoon in March. Birds call to each other as cyclists zoom by on their heavy city bikes, zipping through the capital. Hope permeates the air as the dregs of Winter finally begin to fade and Spring shimmers through the clouds. St. Stephen’s Green is …

Whatever You Say, Say Nothing by Stephen Brady

From a prompt 'Little Margaret had never been to a funeral before' Little Margaret and her Mammy stood in the rain under a big black umbrella, and watched the train of mourners file slowly out of the chapel, toward the open grave beside which they stood. Mammy had been too upset to go into the …

April is the cruellest month – T.S. Elliott by Mairead McGrath

How on earth did T.S. Elliott decide this?  I think April is the most human month because it teases us.  We have taken a giant leap forward with our clocks which provide us with a “stretch” in the evenings. We then fool ourselves that the invisible door of Summer is ajar.  The Sun joins in …

Tender-hearted Hard-shaws by Therese McGarry

“She's a hard-ticket that one" or, “he's a bit of a hard-shaw”, or so they say. Seems to be the saying in the inner city of Dublin; And it's easy to spot when One takes the time. There can be a toughness in the mannerism and yet a hearty laugh if coaxed and a smile …

Yellow Sky by Michael Gavin

“Better to die beneath an Irish sky than souk el Garb or something similarly unpronounceable” said Joe to the hooded man repeating a strange placename from a well know Ballad. Frank had been accused of touting to the peelers or informing as polite people call it, never a popular past time with the Irish, polite …

Handbags

Women’s handbags are a source of mystery and feminine magic to us mere men. It is a source of wonder and amazement to us how anything can be found in the bowels of these repositories of life and identity which are such a necessary part of a most women’s lives. My wife’s cousin (male of …

Deleting the old woman’s No

Written by Brian Browne The prompt last week was "Deleting the old woman's No." ... ... She is gone now so, there isn't much point anymore. There was a time when this was simply unthinkable; a constant and presumed eternal presence but now? The simple pleasures, afternoon tea in a downtown tea shop, a lazy …

Brian’s Prophetic Dreams

Written by Brian Browne To sleep perhaps to dream! Well if you were in my position you might not want to do quite so much dreaming. You see my dreams are of the kind that allows me to see the future; Unfortunately the things that people usually want to know, like what numbers are coming …