SurVision Magazine / Patrick Deeley

The Inspiring of Molly Headd

Maybe once in a blue moon
you find the dead man or woman
about whom the world
knows only that he or she quietly,
unremarkably got by, has risen
from an old cardboard box
or battered suitcase – in the shape
of a book of hand-written
ballads, say, or in a crackly recording
of fiddle music or song.
And what astounds is your sense
that the stranger – fervent,
fierce, pent-up for so long –
is released, lisping or lilting there
until the open, awoken heart
is yours and yours alone.
With a sigh you go back to the quiet
requirements of the day,
but now you can never wholly go.
You are become altered,
stirred to loose – it will take
a lifetime – the cry of self-discovery.

Sliabh Aughty Skyline

If windmills take to the hills,
we have yet to find giants
fit for them in terms of scale –
giants such as bestrode
the fabled lands of long ago –
or words to clothe their
sorry silver with new folktales.

Patrick Deeley is a poet, memoirist and children's writer, from Loughrea originally but living in Dublin. Recently he has had poems published in The Rialto, The London Magazine and Staying Human, an anthology edited by Neil Astley. His latest (seventh collection) with Dedalus Press, The End of the World, was shortlisted for the 2020 Farmgate National Poetry Award. His awards include the 2001 Eilís Dillon Award, the 2014 Dermot Healy International Poetry Prize, and the 2019 Lawrence O'Shaughnessy Award.

SurVision Magazine
About Us Archive Submissions Contributors Books Links Home Page
An international online magazine that publishes Surrealist poetry in English. Issue Nine PATRICK DEELEY The Inspiring of Molly Headd Maybe once in a blue moon you find the dead man or woman about whom the world knows only that he or she quietly, unremarkably got by, has risen from an old cardboard box or battered suitcase – in the shape of a book of hand-written ballads, say, or in a crackly recording of fiddle music or song. And what astounds is your sense that the stranger – fervent, fierce, pent-up for so long – is released, lisping or lilting there until the open, awoken heart is yours and yours alone. With a sigh you go back to the quiet requirements of the day, but now you can never wholly go. You are become altered, stirred to loose – it will take a lifetime – the cry of self-discovery. Sliabh Aughty Skyline If windmills take to the hills, we have yet to find giants fit for them in terms of scale – giants such as bestrode the fabled lands of long ago – or words to clothe their sorry silver with new folktales. Patrick Deeley is a poet, memoirist and children's writer, from Loughrea originally but living in Dublin. Recently he has had poems published in The Rialto, The London Magazine and Staying Human, an anthology edited by Neil Astley. His latest (seventh collection) with Dedalus Press, The End of the World, was shortlisted for the 2020 Farmgate National Poetry Award. His awards include the 2001 Eilís Dillon Award, the 2014 Dermot Healy International Poetry Prize, and the 2019 Lawrence O'Shaughnessy Award.
Copyright © 2021 SurVision Magazine