I will arise and go

(After William Butler Yeats)



My people are a migrant clan

Prospering not by hook or crook or craft

But by diligent labour and an easy charm

Flung from one small corner

Across every wind-tossed sea

Mountaintop to valley floor

To lay a thousand roadways

Or stand on…

This year marks an uneasy halfway for me—I have been in Australia for as long as I lived in Ireland. So where does that leave me? The truth, I have come to realise, is somewhere in between. In Australia, I am regarded as Irish. My accent, parlance, even my ‘writing voice’ are often differentiated as such.…

In July 1690 the last battle fought on Irish soil between two kings played out in the hills and valleys of the Boyne river valley in County Meath, Ireland. The battle was fought between the deposed king James II who was the last Roman Catholic monarch of England, and William III (William of Orange) the reigning…

In the Realm of Spirit: Psalms from a Mountain

John A. Brennan

Escribe Publishing Inc.

ISBN: 9781722290641 Price: $14.95

https://www.amazon.com/author/johnabrennan

The man sitting in the back row of the meeting room had an uncommon brogue, not the Galway or Clare…

26 Common Irish Sayings

The following is a compiled list of 26 common Irish sayings with their translations below written by The Irish Store.

You may find these useful to save confusion & hassle when crossing paths with an Irish person.…

When I was asked to write a series of poems for an art exhibition in Australia earlier this year, I embarked on a dark voyage of discovery into the lives of Irish immigrant children 150 years ago.

Image: 'Image Above: Falling' by Jane Theau (2017)

There is a special brand of human misery so steeped…

When at 18 or 20, or in my case 24, you fly away on the adventure of a lifetime, you aren't thinking of your future self. When I first winged my way to Australia, I had no inkling where it would lead. Or all the losses it would lead to. For me. For my future husband. For our future children. For our…

I am surely not the first Irish emigrant to have heard these words from their heartbroken mother. Guilt at the impact of my decision to leave Ireland and grief at the loss of my beloved mother are central themes in my poetry collection…

MÁIRT -- On June 12, 1844, Januarius A. MacGahan…

In April 2004 I was launching my first novel at the Irish cultural centre in Hammersmith, London, when a lady came over to me and shook my hand.

“I think I may be your cousin,” she said. “My name is Ethna Herron. You look a bit like my people and I thought I just had to say.” She…

A clean “Memory Slate,” brought to this earth,

Shining and new on the day of our birth.

A special place to chronicle and store,

Experiences formative, new and enticing.

Many of them significant to ourselves alone.

The bantam, downy and…

Ships, Real and Imaginary

It’s a piece of rock with a wonderful beginning.

A cause for marvelling in a right of its own.

Formed deep in the magma of earth.

Mainly composed of quartz, the colour of light

And feldspar carrying the…

IRISH SOCIETY WRITING CONTEST

The Irish Cultural Society announces its annual writing contest for students in the 9^th through 12^th grades in the Nassau County high schools.  The materials describing the contest, named the Martin J. Kelly…

'Christmas is coming; the goose is getting fat.

Please put a penny in the old mans’ hat.

If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’penny will…

Anna Margaret Ross (née McKittrick; 8 December 1860–2 February 1939), was an Irish writer,  who used the nom de plume Amanda McKittrick Ros. She was born in Drumaness, County Down, on December 8, 1860.  She holds the dubious distinction of being called by critics "one of the world's worst poets"…

And there are among them composers of verses whom they call Bards; these singing to instruments similar to a lyre, applaud some, while they vituperate others. -- Diodorus Siculus, 8 BCE

All poets have the uncanny ability to tap into the realm of spirit. It is a gift…

Seamus Heaney, considered by many to be the greatest Irish poet since William B. Yeats, texted his wife Marie a few hours before his death: “Do not be afraid!” How comforting these words were to her I do not know. They seem, however, appropriate words for a man who faced so many crises in his life, dealt with them with…

Within the written she resides 

in quiet assurance of her place. 

Lithe and languid, with regal mien, 

she glides from the page bearing gifts.

The mantle, flowing through the ages,

envelops her in verity profound.

Gently musing all the while, 

in soft tones of…

Three of Ireland’s well-loved 18^th century Gaelic poets lie at rest in the graveyard of Creggan Church, near to my hometown of Crossmaglen, County Armagh. The poets, Filid Art Mc Cooey, Padraig MacAliondain and the rapparee poet Seamus mor MacMurphy sleep under the oaks and elms in the company…