Patrick Kavanagh Poems (21 Poems)
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Having To Live in the Country (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
Back once again in wild, wet MonaghanExiled from thought and feeling,A mean brutality reigns:It is really a horrible position to be inAnd I equate myself with DanteAnd all who have lived outside civilization.It isn’t a question of place but of … Continue reading
On An Apple-Ripe September Morning (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
On an apple-ripe September morningThrough the mist-chill fields I wentWith a pitch-fork on my shoulderLess for use than for devilment. The threshing mill was set-up, I knew,In Cassidy’s haggard last night,And we owed them a day at the threshingSince last … Continue reading
On Raglan Road (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knewThat her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,And I said, let grief … Continue reading
April Dusk (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
April dusk It is tragic to be a poet now And not a lover Paradised under the mutest bough. I look through my window and see The ghost of life flitting bat-winged. O I am as old as a sage can even be, O I am … Continue reading
March (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
There’s a wind blowing Cold through the corridors, A ghost-wind, The flapping of defeated wings, A hell-fantasy From meadows damned To eternal April And listening, listening To the wind I hear The throat-rattle of dying men, From whose ears oozes Foamy blood, Throttled in a brothel. I see brightly In the wind vacancies Saint … Continue reading
Innocence (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
They laughed at one I loved-The triangular hill that hungUnder the Big Forth. They saidThat I was bounded by the whitethorn hedgesOf the little farm and did not know the world.But I knew that love’s doorway to lifeIs the same … Continue reading
Inniskeen Road: July Evening (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
The bicycles go by in twos and threes –There’s a dance in Billy Brennan’s barn to-night,And there’s the half-talk code of mysteriesAnd the wink-and-elbow language of delight.Half-past eight and there is not a spotUpon a mile of road, no shadow … Continue reading
Gospel (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
We are the children of light, Wise, not companioned By goats In a condemned graveyard. Backward blowing Blizzards of memory Flatten out The genealogies. But here a point, The objective essence We work in. We shall not drink from the stink-pots. Propaganda, Gospel spread With tin shovels, We are this generation. (Patrick … Continue reading
Kerr’s Ass (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
We borrowed the loan of Kerr’s assTo go to Dundalk with butter,Brought him home the evening before the marketAnd exile that night in Mucker. We heeled up the cart before the door,We took the harness inside —The straw-stuffed straddle, the … Continue reading
To the Man After the Harrow (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
Now leave the check-reins slack,The seed is flying far today –The seed like stars against the blackEternity of April clay. This seed is potent as the seedOf knowledge in the Hebrew Book,So drive your horses in the creedOf God the … Continue reading
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