Poem of the month - December 2007

no rumour on the radio the guns are shouting are you in are you in as usual murderously in the book, the syllables of love are oozing red drops outside the window, an empty landscape except for the sound of steel buffaloes beyond the hill behind the great door, the bare knuckles of the skeleton so graceful round the pen ready, utterly ready, for the march across the page cha b’ fhathann air an rèidio, tha na gunnaichean ag èigheach eil thu staigh eil thu staigh mar as àbhaist gu murtail anns an leabhar, than a lidean goail a’ sileadh bhoinnean ruadha taobh a-mach na h-uinneige, raon falamh, ach gu bheil fuaim nam buabhall stailinn taobh thall a’ chnuic cùl an darais mhòir, na h-uilt lorna cnàimhnich cho finealte mun pheann, deas, buileach deas, airson màrsail thar na duilleige from laoidh an donais òig / hymn to a young demon Aonghas MacNeacail Poem supplied courtesy of the Scottish Poetry Library

The inspiration for the poem Aonghas says:  'The poem No Rumour is a product of an anguish that arises from the times we live in. We may have "peace" on our little patch of earth, but it would seem to be at the expense of an endless variety of proxies. And can we be certain that those we abuse will not, eventually, wreak vengeful havoc upon us? Looking again at the poem, I find it hard to avoid the shadowy presence of Dylan Thomas's "Hand that signed the paper", which was one of the first poems to prompt me to have a go at writing. I hope my poem is different enough to have an independent life of its own, though.'

About the Poet Aonghas MacNeacail was born on the Isle of Skye in 1942. After learning English in Primary 1 he retained Gaelic somehow, despite an education system that taught it (to native Gaels) as a foreign, and essentially dead, language. He eventually became a poet, in both English and Gaelic. The latter has taken him to many parts of the world, from the Arctic Circle to the Dead Sea, From Hokkaido to Seattle, via Ballyferriter, with various stops between.