Author Archives: diarmuidfitzgerald

I am a poetry and prose writer. I write poetry, haiku, haibun, short stories as well as novels. Two haiku collections have been published by Alba Publishing (www.albapublising.com). Thames Way appeared in 2015 and A Thousand Sparks in 2018. Poems have appeared in The Stinging Fly, Cyphers, Boyne Berries, The Blue Nib, Flare, Impossible Archetype, and Crannóg. A poem of mine won 2nd place in the Ballyroan Library Competition 2018 and again in 2020. I won the Individual Artist Bursary from South Dublin County Council 2018. I won a scholarship to attend the Yeats Summer School 2018 in Sligo. Sixteen poems of mine were Highly Commended in the Blue Nib Chapbook Contests IV and V in 2019. A poem was shortlisted in the Bray Literary Festival in 2018. A poem was long-listed in Over The Edge Poetry Competition 2019. A haibun received an honourable mention in the Genjuan Haibun Competition 2021. The Singing Hollow, my first collection of poems, has been accepted for publication by Alba Publishing.

Front and back cover for The Singing Hollow

In further news I got permission from the Paul Henry estate to use the photo of The Only Tree in the Burren. Whyte’s Auctioneers kindly gave the photo for free to use. Thanks to them. Anne Tannam and Catherine Ann Cullen kindly did the blurbs on the back. Thanks to them also. I am currently working on the final proofs of the manuscript and checking for errors and punctuation issues. I hope to have a face to face book launch sometime in late November or early December 2021.

Poem in the Waxed Lemon

A poem of mine Bottle Bank Therapy was published in the Waxed Lemon. I am delighted with that and look forward to reading the journal.

Bottle Bank Therapy

On the first day of ease from the lockdown,
I bring a box full of bottles, green, brown, clear 
and blue. They shine in the sun. Glass shards litter the ground.
I pick my way carefully to the bank and select a bottle. 
The neck is smooth. I lob it down the hole, 
listen to the cacophony of the breaking, 
a joyous crashing sound, the way the glass clinks 
through glass, makes the sound of rain. It is heaven
to me as I let go and keep letting go and think how will 
we gather our smashed selves into a new whole.

2 Poems

Aughacasla Strand

The wide bay is shaped like a horseshoe.
The sand fills the pools and algae covers 
the rocks. The wash comes in then goes out 
with a crash. My debts pile up, drag
me down. I lost my job and my world shakes.
I seek to clear my head as it pounds
then run to find an answer, make an imprint
of feet. I release my thoughts into the waves
which pull back, leaving the shingle shining
in rusted browns, yellows, reds and blues.

Rented House

As you open the front door 
the light through the fan window is lost for a while.

Dampness from mouldy walls wets the window.
A door may be slammed,
keys lost, or an argument had over unpaid bills.
The spark of anger is doused
as you keep your distance.

The shape that you carry from house to house
is a suitcase. The views from various bedrooms
changes over the years.

Through the neighbour’s window
a family sits down to a hot meal
and the steam clouds the glass.

Photo Credit drmakete lab on Unsplash

3rd Place in the South Dublin Libraries Poetry Competition

I won third place in the South Dublin Libraries Poetry Competition for a poem called Brú na Bóinne. This poem is about Newgrange. Here’s the poem to read.

Brú na Bóinne 

The mist rolls over the hills and stays
around the approach road. The sun is a pale disc. 
Light comes through in odd glimmers.

People are dressed like druids, carrying staffs, 
playing bodhrans and chanting. A druidess says 
she has cleaned the ley lines back to their old joy.

We go into the inner chamber
and the heat from this tomb warms me.
We could stay in here protected from the cold

and the harsh realities outside.
The mist subsides and light comes up 
the passage to consummate a new year.