Fugitive Fragments

by Mike McGuire

Seamus Heaney RIP

The pen now idle

a way of telling silenced

next Tollund Man dies.

.

From furrow fertile

blackberries ripe each August

anniversary.

.

Bogs will keep crusting

between the sights of the sun

as you rest below.

sh

Single Post Navigation

37 thoughts on “Seamus Heaney RIP

  1. I saw the Tollund man as a kid. I didn’t quite grasp the significance until later. The face is absolutely amazing. Actually, come to think of it, there’s something vaguely Heaneyesque about his benign, avuncular smile and the kindly eyes he seems to have. A very nice tribute, Mike. Sort of a remix.

    • Remix – that’s it, well termed. Where I stated that Heaney would become another Tollund Man I was alluding to the longevity of his works but I’m delighted with your observation of a physical similarity – it seems very appropriate. Thank you for your perspicuous contributions here.

  2. A fine honouring friend

  3. A beautiful tribute to a great man. I have really enjoyed reading your work. Thank you for visiting SurreyKitchen. Emma.

  4. a wonderful tribute

  5. I love this, especially furrow and crusting…

  6. Lovely tribute to a great poet.

  7. Men like Mr Heaney are a rarity. The words mattered and inspired us to write our own. Thank you for this. RIP Seamus (Rest In Poetry).

  8. As wonderful as it is short, I stopped to ponder over every line.
    Admittedly I only own his translation of Beuwulf and not a collection of his own. I aim to change that.
    Ireland lost one man but a thousand-thousand words. Your poem praises beautifully well, Mike!

    • Thanks Brent and I notice how in the day since I wrote that, similar works of homage have flooded the blogosphere and social media – he has generated more words in death than he did himself in life and I suspect he would be quite chuffed at this. Decide which collection to buy by sampling the extracts available all over the web. You’ll find new meaning in my words once you have read ‘Blackberry Picking’, ‘Bogland’ and ‘The Tollund Man’.

      • It is early morning here in Canada and I am off to the market and bookstore(s). If I don’t come back with a collection of his I’ll be saddened! Though it’s saddening in itself that it took death to make me do so. Such is the way of life, oddly enough sometimes. I will check out those three poems of his before I head out the door.

  9. Terse words for a long peal of time, a good, an only, place , for such as he to rest.

  10. I am sure all of Ireland mourns. My condolences to you, his family and Ireland itself.

  11. Love the line: “bogs will keep crusting”. And oh! That blackberry poem! A great loss today. Posting mid-term break a perfect introduction .

  12. Immortality is his, as long as someone absorbs his words.

  13. I will show my ignorance here and say that other than being familiar with the name, I really know nothing about the man as a poet. But I’ve always thought the name was cool… I mean how could you not be a famous writer with a name like that?!?

    • And a cool man – here’s an introduction:

      Mid-Term Break

      I sat all morning in the college sick bay
      Counting bells knelling classes to a close.
      At two o’clock our neighbors drove me home.

      In the porch I met my father crying–
      He had always taken funerals in his stride–
      And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow.

      The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram
      When I came in, and I was embarrassed
      By old men standing up to shake my hand

      And tell me they were ‘sorry for my trouble,’
      Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest,
      Away at school, as my mother held my hand

      In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs.
      At ten o’clock the ambulance arrived
      With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses.

      Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops
      And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him
      For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,

      Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple,
      He lay in the four foot box as in his cot.
      No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.

      A four foot box, a foot for every year.

  14. Sad news today, but if his life and death inspire such words as yours, he’ll go on living.

  15. With your permission Mike I will post this on twitter.

    Chris.

Whaddya think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

kalabalu

Kalabalu.WordPress.com site

Syl65's Blog

Poetry, creative writing and a desire to inspire

ANNIE'S MUSE

Whispers of Poetry

Life

in whispers

Mum C writes

Poetry, Short Stories and Articles

webthewords

My little world of words

redgladiola

Writing & Poetry Journal of T. Wong

thecourseofourseasons

Observations from the Ozarks

JAMESMAYORBLOG.COM

This WordPress.com site is the cat’s pajamas

Reject Reality

The world as I see it, according to myself.

Merging Traffic

Poems by Dennis Ference

rahnie

LET US WAKE THE SLEEPING FOR WHAT THEY'RE DREAMING IS NOT THE REALITY THEY OUGHT TO LIVE.

UpChucking Words

Puking up Poetry, One Verse at a Time

Carduus Sanguinem

Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it.

Bojenn

This WordPress.com site is the bee's knees

geoffreylake

Just another WordPress.com site

The Girl You Didn't See Coming

Take a look but i'm warning you my thoughts are scattered

thewolf9900

Quick Slick Poetry Written on a Blackberry Q5

A Lionhearted Journey towards Authenticity (c)

Sharing my love & passion for nature, animals & the soul journey through writing. With love, hope & courage, in harmony with nature we travel a Lionhearted Journey towards Authenticity (c)

From Maybe To Almost

One lost & confused 20-something's nonsensical account of the nowhereland of not-quite-adulthood.

Jemverse

Life in words

I-ZΛΛX-SØN

The Unpreachable

Brett's Future

Science Fiction or science fact....the thoughts of a budding author.

Poems: "Lax Rhetorica" (Fallible Rhetoric)

...Free Verse, Experiment, Illustration, and occasionally...Art !

Ajaytao Quotes Blog

Enlightening our souls

RePrEsSeD ExPrEsSiOnS

I like Eclectic. I am a blogging mutt. Sometimes I will dress it up a bit with a poem or song.

Stellular Scribe

the ramblings of a rogue writer

CultFit

Form, Flow and Grace

Blue Girl Poems

My thoughts, expressed in poetry

pantspoet

words with a twist, like knickers in a twist, you get the gist....

B-kiran Poetry & Musings

wAsTe pRodUcTs oF mY iDlE mInD

Tarns begins - Dead Brown Bird

Poetry, pieces and other bits of my writing. ©Copyright 2014

Incandescent Moon Poetry

Spiritual and Worldly Poetry for the Soul

Michele Marie's Poetry By The Fireside...

poetry by the fireside... life...

I.J. Keddie

Poet (of sorts). I'm hiding behind your curtains.

TED Blog

The TED Blog shares interesting news about TED, TED Talks video, the TED Prize and more.

Looking At Raindrops

Some people look at rivers, writers look at the raindrops

Neues vom Hutschi

Just another WordPress.com weblog

Mr. Modigliani's Private Studio

Intimate expressions of a complicated man

becoming the muse

words on paper

1 SIGFRIDSSON

ON = TIME

My Invisible Crown

Impulsive writing from my inner Princess

Poet on the Farm

A Residency at Acton Scott Historic Working Farm 2014

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,094 other followers

%d bloggers like this: