Lindisfarne ~ A poem by Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon

Lindisfarne

Inland fields framed my childhood home
a hundred miles from any coast.
Yet, I dreamt oceans,
wave after breaking wave.

Harsh daybreaks chinked apart
my mother’s drapes –
stiff, bleached clean of love.
I rubbed sleep from my eyes
and wary, I watched
and learnt to read the frowns
gathered on her brow –

knew what came next
raised fists, open slaps, closed blows
all set to rain upon my lowered head.

In interim, nomadic years
I’ve lived north and east and west
uncradled by those early fears.
Now, finally, in this thin place,
midst Causeway and wild sea,
my mother’s curse is laid to rest
and I forgive her arid, tortured breast.

Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon

The Holy Island of Lindisfarne is considered by many to be a ‘thin place,’ that is a place where the veil between the spiritual world and our own physical world is thin.

Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon lives near Newcastle upon Tyne, UK, and writes short stories and poetry. She has been widely published in web magazines and in print anthologies. She has an MA in Creative Writing [Newcastle 2017]. She believes everyone’s voice counts. She tweets as @CeinwenHaydon

Photo credit; from Unsplash by James Homans ~ https://www.JamesHomans.com)

Bull Island Sanctuary, Dollymount Strand, Dublin ~ A poem by Rona Fitzgerald

Bull Island Sanctuary, Dollymount Strand, Dublin.

Summer days she’d set out with four of us on the bus –
bag laden with cosies, sandwiches and spare clothes.

Infinite blues; sea and sky merging, no frontiers.
Bird beat, waders, oystercatchers, zen-like herons.

We stood on one leg until we fell. Splashed about,
ate our sand filled lunch as mother’s nose twitched.

Later, we trudged home across the long bridge
trailing damp wool togs and towels. Back to order.

My heart’s in those grainy dunes,
keening sea birds summon me home.

Rona Fitzgerald

Rona Fitzgerald has poems in UK, Scottish, Irish and US publications.
Highlights include featured poet in the Stinging Fly 2011, Aiblins: New Scottish Political Poetry 2016, Oxford Poetry XVI.iii Winter 2016-17, Poems for Grenfell Tower, Onslaught Press 2018 and #Me Too, Fair Acre Press, 2018, featured poet in the Blue Nib issue 39 September 2019.

A Road West ~ A poem by Patrick Wright

A Road West

The cliffs’ tin mine is a sentry,
a shadow from the cove’s upwards glance.
A path leads West where the only sound are mason bees.
Alpines and stinging ants sheet the mounds.
Occasional ruins appear, Greek in this light,
and the scorched Atlantic peels like my sunburnt arms.
A coastal path spirals up, and my vertigo
throws me off the edge a hundred times.
The wire fence reveals no ledge, just a curve,
no precipice, no sense of where or how far to fall.
My backpack slices my right shoulder,
to remind myself, ensure the slip would be towards life.

Patrick Wright

Patrick Wright has a poetry pamphlet, Nullaby, published by Eyewear in 2017. A full collection will follow in 2020. His poems have appeared in several magazines, including Agenda, Wasafiri, The Reader, and The High Window. He has been shortlisted for the Bridport Prize. You can read more here; http://www.patrickiwright.co.uk/about.php He tweets as @Saturnineone

Finding the Real Ireland ~ A poem by Jilly O’Brien

Finding the Real Ireland

There she goes
flying along Inch Strand
flaxen mane and lightning hooves
thundering the low-lit sand spit
long red tresses a banner unfurled
before the green – gowned harp
sounds, sing-songing a tongue
only Tuatha de Danann understand

Her lover is a merman
sailing his coracle across strip-shiny sea
slipping like treacle over the side
into water where hair coils
like wet rope over seal – blinking eyes.
He tiptoes the bladderwrack
and eats silvery fishes

In Limerick boys are racers
kicking their horses
to go faster
down the motorway
between the rubbish fires.
A man walks a fox on a lead
and throws his empties into oncoming traffic

Girls share what they have
somewhere not on Trip Advisor.
The dark haired one with cracked lips
her dress isn’t a dress
she likes the smell of chips and hot water though
could be allergic to horses
often runs across the road without looking.

Jilly O’Brien

Jilly O’Brien is an award winning poet and psychologist, living on the Otago Peninsula in Otepoti, Dunedin. Jilly has had poems published in journals and anthologies worldwide. She has had her poetry displayed on the ice in Antarctica, on beaches in Dunedin, and on the back of parking tickets.

You can find more here; https://www.facebook.com/jillyobrienpoetry/

How safe the distance ~ A poem by Eileen Carney Hulme

How safe the distance

Perhaps Persuasion
or The French Lieutenant’s
Woman, both remind
me of you, holding
out a hand
or arms around a waist
to be lifted, swirled
the slow slip
of body against body
and the power
of waves
rushing in
rushing over –
no lighthouse in sight.

Eileen Carney Hulme

Eileen Carney Hulme lives in the NE of Scotland, close to many beautiful and often deserted beaches. She is a prize winning Poet and has three collections published. More info can be found here; https://www.indigodreams.co.uk/ech-tsm/4589983025

Submissions

  1. We welcome submissions of poetry, flash fiction and the occasional short story that specifically, and also loosely, follow a coastal theme. Use your imagination! We enjoy pieces that are contemporary and that may have been hiding under rocks for fear of being discovered. We particularly celebrate writing that has healed, or been part of a journey. That has been a cathartic process and is to be celebrated as such.
  2. Please email your poetry, flash fiction and the occasional short story, in one Word document, accompanied by a short (50 worded) third person bio. We prefer unpublished pieces, but will consider previously published ones. Please give credit to the the publisher/s, so that we can do so too.
  3. Copyright remains with the author at all times, but we appreciate the celebration of your first publication should you go on to have the piece published elsewhere.
  4. We will not enter into discussions about rejection of pieces, and whilst we appreciate that this can be disheartening (yes, we have been there), please do not take the rejection personally, for it is not intended to be so. We will wish you good luck elsewhere. Never give up, and remember, this is not a competition. You are of course welcome to resubmit, but we would ask that you wait for at least two months.
  5. Whilst we can not pay for any submissions accepted, we will, once a month, around the time of the full moon (or thereabouts), when tides are higher and lower than normal, gift a small prize for the treasure trove piece.
  6. We aim to reply within two weeks of submission date (although please do not hold us to this) and rest assured, every submission will be read. Acceptance, as perviously stated, is not on merit of previous publications or awesomeness, but on pieces that we feel reflect what we are aiming to showcase her at The Beach Hut.
  7. Please submit your pieces (no more than three, which can be a mix of poetry and fiction) to; thebeachhut7@gmail.com
  8. Please do not resubmit for a further two months, regardless of acceptance or rejection.
  9. Please read all of the above carefully.
  10. We are crazy, coastal loving, word consuming, volunteers; we don’t get paid for this. Please be respectful.
  11. We actively encourage writing as a wellbeing tool. To heal and to use nature as your inspiration and we wish you well on your journey.