Thursday, 15 December 2016

2 poems by Maurice Devitt

Mrs Mourinho’s Weekly Shop


She plans with liquid precision,
her hand-written list a fragment
of cursive joy and every week
she tailors the formation.

When she learned that attack
was the best form of defence,
she front-loaded with red meat
and carbs, added extra sugar,

leaving the fruit and veg to sweep
up at the back. When she thinks
the going is likely to be soft
she will pick a team of cereals

and pulses, enough roughage
to facilitate a passing game.
Is comfortable in Tesco’s
but when playing away

in Lidl or Aldi, she expects
a more continental form
of open shopping, parks
the bus and believes every item

to be ripe for substitution.
She was one of the first to spot
the potential of kale, scouted it
in a small speciality shop

on the other side of town
and completed a swap that included
the young, sprouting broccoli.
Happy at first with its

performance, particularly
when partnered with potato,
latterly she found it
too green and had fallen back

on two experienced heads,
cauliflower and cabbage,
old-fashioned but reliable.
As the shopping window

closes, she has been tipped off
about a young, versatile
foreign star, but is worried that
quinoa may just be a flash in the pan.



-----
Previously published on 2nd February 2016

Raft of the Medusa

After Gericault

The sea swells and the boat bares its teeth,
stands tall, pushes into the crowded waves,

His skin becomes porous as he clutches
loose handles of air, weight drains

and his arms are like ribbons flapping,
his face flattened by the wind.

He feels himself swallow the storm,
gulp it down until it rages inside and out,

eyes rolling in concert with the sea. No time
to consider the sacrifices made to get here,

no time to scan for the cropped shape
of Lampedusa, for now he must scramble

with the flotsam of death, swaddle his son
against seething eyes and treacherous hands,

count every breath, forget the words
for panic and fear, because today

may never spell tomorrow, and hope
is impossible to calibrate, when every hour

seems to sneak in extra minutes and the men,
who survived last month, are found

smothered in an English lay-by.


About Maurice Devitt


A graduate of the MA in Poetry Studies at Mater Dei, he is the recent winner of the Trocaire/Poetry Ireland Competition 2015. He has been placed or shortlisted in many competitions including the Over the Edge New Writer Competition, Cuirt New Writing Award, the Listowel Writers’ Week Collection Competition and the Doire Press International Chapbook Competition. He has had poems published in various journals in Ireland, England, Scotland, the US, Mexico, Romania, India and Australia and is a founder member and chairperson of the Hibernian Writers’ Group.

2 comments:

  1. Great perception in Weekly Shop and Raft of Medusa sums up the plight of refugees with style and sympathy

    ReplyDelete