Cassandra Voices

Tag: michaela

  • Poetry: Michaela Brady

    White Bay Park

    And cows trod on thickened sand,
    Bow their heads beneath the sun.
    It’s as if this summer was planned,
    With days that cannot be done.

    That sun implores, infects my sight,
    Surges fire through greying sea,
    Through my heart and through the night,
    Perennial, I am allowed to be.

    Could I spend an eternity here?

    If I lassoed eternal dusks,
    If you were caught as well,
    All our present woes would rust
    In Atlantic’s alabaster swells.

    But life will change, not just the tides.
    I cannot say when I’ll be back.
    You cannot know what you’ll decide.

    Could eternity wait for our return?
    I cannot trust a view revived
    To last a lifetime I have hardly lived.

    Feature Image: Daniele Idini

  • Poetry: Michaela Brady

    Uaigneas (Dán do m’athair)

    Crows befriend the bread-handed boy,
    Squawk and battle for a bite.
    Metro wires hiss and wheeze,
    Spite the hills and sun-soaked fields.

    New York blinks its bloodshot stare,
    Recalling you and I were there.
    From azure deli doors,
    Whiffs of baking bread
    Flirt with slow-cook sunburn.

    But now I can be anywhere;
    Western cities groan the same.
    Riding through a London green,
    Gliding through the shadowed dawn;
    I’m convinced it’s just the same.

    But where are you when I awake?
    Where are you, voice beneath music,
    Brimming with stories owned and rented,
    Debates and schemes for woodsy walks.

    Bottled up in bucket seats, we watch
    As worlds of millions catch the day,
    Battle for statues to recall their names.
    We’re facing west to Hudson, south to Thames.

    Do you have a friend these mornings?
    Do you choose to drift and dream?
    Yes, it’s just the same.
    And never is again.

    Feature Image: Daniele Idini