Category Archives: Seamus Heaney

Back to the Bog, Seamus

I came late to the poetry of Seamus Heaney. Death of a Naturalist was his first collection, and the first one I read—it sat on my bookshelf for 10 years before I read it.  It was worth the wait. His … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Bog, Bog poems, Consciousness, Death, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, Language, Memory, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetics, Poetry, Seamus Heaney, The Earth | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Like Two People on Skates for the First Time (poems from old notebooks, December 2009)

The death poem still refuses exhumation (the good news, then, is that, while there is never a way out of death, for today, at least, there also appears to be no way in). I’ll get it yet, though. So here’s … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Astronomy, Astrophysics, Cosmology, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, Poem tweets, Poems from old notebooks, Poetry, Seamus Heaney, Space, Time, Winter | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment