dead drunk dublin and other imaginal spaces
this is the way home poetry - written and spoken stories and creative writings alternative writings, prose, essays, reportage manifestos, insights, alternative views music mp3 original music eyes to see with movies, flash and animations links - click here to read reviews of our favourite websites click to subscribe to our occasional ezine all about dead drunk dublin info on how to contribute to dead drunk dublin



n e w

by aoife mannix

Let me give birth in a poppy field with seagulls overhead,
the cry of their wings a cradle of petals,
where scare crows dance and field mice clap,
the rivers flow with champagne and the nurses are marzipan,
where there is no white, no cold steel forceps,
nothing to drag screaming
into a world that doesn't know what to do
with such a tiny perfect flicker of hope.
Let me cup my hands around that flame,
set fire to the night,
and at dawn all the streets will ring
with the wonder of what has yet to be,
the fingers, the toes,
the sleeping dreams of the newly born
before anyone has said no, that's not possible.


copyright © 2003, aoife mannix



to contact the editor, email or use our contact form
all contents copyright © 2007, all rights reserved - redmoonmedia, publishers - authors rights are protected

site design by redmoonmedia