Padraic
Fiacc , Joe O Connor, has left us.
After his 94
years seeing life for what it is, like treading on grass littered with broken
glass and shredded bricks, hope, fresh amazement dissolving into sorrowful disappointment,
rising again because the spirit is stronger than the hardest of worlds, not needing
a sweet smelling lawn from which to leap to where the spirit is at home ......................
A friend, he
came to visit us and we talked about
life and death, about poetry and about why we should be afraid of poets............
He did us
the honour of writing a poem about it afterwards :
Up afterwards,
I take to the middle of Royal Avenue
On my way in
gold rimmed Polaroids to give
A poetry reading
in Ballymurphy : clutching at
Ragged editions
of my own poems , like clutching at
strands of
grass to keep you up from falling
with
crashing debris down the mountainy ware
- houses and
hotels ! .........................."
Rest
peacefully, Joe , and remember your friends..............
Fíle den chéad scoith abhí Padraic Fiacc(Joe O'Connor). a man who was gentle and thoughtful. Ní Fheicfidh muid a leitheid arís. Suaimhneas Siorraí dá anam uasal.
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