JGHeraghty | Poetry

Hello to who it may interest.. For a short time the site will be under maintenance, but don't worry, it won't effect those who visit the page. What it will do, however, is evoke questions such as "what is up with this one and her disordered fonts?" and all that.. It will look a tad odd, but only for a short time until I fix things up. Secondly, besides answering a question no one has asked yet.. I'll answer questions I have been asked, like "Joanne, do you actually still take the time to write poetry anymore?", or, "with the Leaving Cert, and all, where do you get the time to write extra..?" Firstly, I do still take the time to write, because I love writing. I could never just stop.. And secondly, like a dancer likes to practice dance moves and a footballer likes to practice skills, I like to practice my writing.. So, I dont see it as extra.. More like a hobby :) My favourite question was "Joanne, why do I have to wait until next mon...

So.. I was walking up the road to my house a few days ago and the thought struck me. What if there is someone, just like me, who is as unrealistically keen about hearing about competition results as me. Who won? That's the question, buzzing around in my head when the result is due, any day, to the competition I have entered. So for those who are interested in the answer to "who won the Yeats' Poetry competition of 2014" for young people? which, unfortunately, cannot be found out from the internet (until now), it was me. Yes, for the second year in a row. I understand that makes me look a tad greedy and I almost feel guilty for not giving others, with the same talent, the chance to win, but I could never be happier. This year we were assigned the task of responding to Yeats' "An Irish Airman Foresees His Death." For the competition, the candidate had to take the perspective of a soldier and respond to the story of the poem. I thought, at first, that...

This one's a little unusual. Ends are pretty sad, most of the time, but as I come to the end of my school years, I decided that I should close up all the loose ends. It was funny, considering I'm beginning my actual Leaving Certificate examinations tomorrow morning, to find a piece of work like this. I scanned through my personal account on the school computer a few months ago, and I moved everything off of the account and onto my USB key. It was brilliant to find a poem I had written in first year. My English teacher assigned the class the task of writing a poem for poetry day in 2010 . We had to work in pairs. I worked with a guy in my year called Darrell Leydon . As well as it being my first poem to co-author , it was my actual first poem to ever write . It's a little amateur , but hey, we all got to start somewhere, right? I didn't make ANY changes to the wording, or the punctuation... I'm posting it as it was written! A Sunny Day It was the middle of may...

I've made it pretty clear that I haven't been posting my poems in the same order that they have been written. Only recently I have dug back out one of my favourite poems that was not just written by me, but with a good old friend of mine. As I said before, co-authoring poetry brings out a funner side to the actual writing of the piece and creates a sort of background story. For this one, it's clear that this fellow and myself are quite the pair of lunatics! The poem was written with Kieren Massie , on the 3rd of August 2011 , the best summer of my life so far, may I add. Thanks to all for that, by the way! :) Here it is... I just called it "Random Poem" .. (if you have a better name for it, drop me a little comment). Random Poem J oyful is the sound of the air. O ver in the distance bunnies stare. A ll around me it's Autumn space. N eat and tidy I tie my lace. N ot only me but everyone. E nemies gone, yet I'm not alone. G lorious sunshine sha...

I wrote this during a free class in school. Despite distractions from those so keen to read it, I managed to piece together what I would refer to as a simplistic poem based on the deepest, and most precious thoughts in my mind. This one is dedicated to Caroline , my big sister. It's very unlike sisters to be as close as we are, so this one's for you. I hope you like it. All of Our Old Walls The time went by too quickly, And we're all grown up now. Our lives have become different: But, at least, we know more how's. How to distinguish right from wrong; And venture through life's song, In a bigger world than the one between All of our old walls. As the clouds roll past on the table, And the words don't spill from my head. I remember all the days we spent together And every single word you ever said. I wonder at times, do you think of me? And our childhood as it's gone? To whisper softly in nostalgia, And, then, continue to go on. I hope yo...

I wrote this poem out of boredem. Honestly, I believed it was nothing more than sentences with no meaning.. Yet when I reviewed the poem, I realised it actually came from the centre of me. It may provoke a sense of a political nature, but despite my Irishness; I have no interest in politics or the government. Instead, the poem is about Sligo. In Irish, Sligo (Sligeach) means 'Shelly Place' , so that's where I got the name. It worked pretty well with the body of the poem, I believe. It's not my best one, but I'll let you be the judge of that. Shelly Place Too big to call it yours, Too small to compete. Not the wisdom from your mouth, Or the knowledge in your feet. Never yours nor never mine. Ours, together. The stones that had sat, old. The water's depth surround. It wasn't fame that we did need, Just organics on the ground. See, we are all the one, A family, you might say. Sheltered from the sun, but skies are never grey. The Shelly Pla...

I don't have much to say about this poem. I wrote it during the aftermath of hearing word of the devastating story that NASA publicly released on Thursday 6th of February 2014 . It takes an open mind to believe the story of the poem, but the horrific truth is that it is reality. I don't have any dedications for this one, of course. But I would like to add, I was devastated ... Andromeda's Star The horror that emerges from the tip of his tongue; Devastation: before our humanity had even begun. When prehistoric tigers roamed Pangaea still A civilization of intelligence, at their will; To meet a certain apocalyptic fate 80,000 years on, we were too late. A planet condemned to failure at once. Andromeda’s stars: awaiting a response. Too long to reveal the answers Kulakov neared; An intergalactic cry for help remained unheard. Devastation: igniting a world in one. Now, just a ball of fire. A doom upon. Never to know the fear they endured.. A lifetime already...