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Featured Authors:

JOHN SHEAHAN

John Sheahan is one of Ireland’s best known musicians. Born in Dublin in 1939, he was a member of The Dubliners from 1964 to 2012. He has played... MORE

DOIREANN Ní GHRíOFA

Doireann Ní Ghríofa is an award-winning bilingual poet. Born in Galway in 1981, she grew up in Clare and now lives in Cork. Among her... MORE

JESSICA TRAYNOR

Jessica Traynor was born in Dublin in 1984. Literary Reader at the Abbey Theatre and a creative writing teacher, she has published poems in a variety... MORE

PATRICK KEHOE

Patrick Kehoe was born in 1956 in Enniscorthy, Co Wexford where he still lives. Educated at St Peter's College, Wexford, he studied History and... MORE

MAURICE SCULLY

Maurice Scully was born in Dublin in 1952 and spent his childhood between Clare, the Ring Gaeltacht and Dublin. He was educated at Trinity College,... MORE

TOM MATHEWS

Tom Mathews was born in Dublin in 1952. After working in advertising he studied Fine Art at the National College of Art and Design in Dublin. He has... MORE

PAULA MEEHAN

Paula Meehan was born in 1955 in Dublin where she still lives. She studied at Trinity College, Dublin, and at Eastern Washington University in the U.S.... MORE

LELAND BARDWELL

Leland Bardwell was born in India, grew up in Leixlip and was educated in Dublin with extra mural studies in London University. She has published five... MORE

PAT BORAN

PAT BORAN was born in Portlaoise, Ireland in 1963 and currently lives in Dublin where he works as an editor and broadcaster. He has also held a number... MORE

Poem of the Month

THE GRIP
Aidan Murphy
(from Wrong Side of Town)

You advise me to let go;
thanks, but no thanks.
Don’t get me wrong: I know
the tight holds we keep
on family and friends,
on lovers, dogs and cats,
may bring us nothing more
than grief and wrath.

But when I watched my girl
get sucked back up the waterslide
and disappear, I let her go;

and when I watched my boy
slouch through an ill-lit gauntlet
of barbarians, I let him go;

and when I saw myself
get cynical and hard while plummeting
from parapets of sense, I let me go.

Too much. Too much letting go.
From here I swear

on dead friends’ eyes, to grip.
The whole grip.
Nothing but the grip.

(from Wrong Side of Town by Aidan Murphy, April 2015)

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