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SUSAN LINDSAY‘s work has appeared in journals and anthologies — most recently Poetry Ireland Review (December, 2017); Bosom Pals edited by Marie Cadden (Doire Press, 2017, in aid of Breast Cancer Research in NUIG) and The Café Review in Maine, USA. Her work was commended in the 2018 Gregory O’Donoghue Poetry Prize. A graduate of Trinity College, Dublin (1975), Susan followed a brief career in social work before working as a psychotherapist, facilitator, trainer and occasional consultant to organisations for over thirty years, retiring in 2012. In 2011 she read for Poetry Ireland Introductions. A founding editor of Skylight 47, in which she was involved for a number of issues, she has read her poems and facilitated her workshop Conversations Mediated by Poetry at festivals and in local communities.
‘The voice of experience wrought in lines that are lucid and direct.’
— Paula Meehan
Making Headway
A woman at the helm
steadies the tiller
he is the mast, sails
catch wind
billow in light breeze
reeled in
taut
they skim the waves
about turn
jibe
take a fresh tack.
In The Darkness
of the asylum
she made pâpier machée beads
from crushed paper
the stickiness satisfying,
her fingers immersed in glue
smoothing torn squares
in layers on the surface.
When the occupational therapist
spent the last of her budget
on metallic paint and a volunteer
donated gold she found light
could create something
beautiful.
Taking to Air
Sometimes
she has to claw herself out
into the world
at other times
home again
haul on the strings
of limp parachute
endeavouring
to gather the weight
of ballooning volume
into folds
expelling cold air
once so hot
it took flight
drag damp remnants
like bedraggled feathers
back to bosom warmth
to peck at
settle
fluff the downy straggle
gently battle
shake, flap
shape
the misshapen manifold
into rightful symmetry.
Bewilderment
Gratitude, rising like water
filling the lock
gates closed behind.
Wonderment he’d said.
Green blades in need of a mow
yellow dandelion heads
fluff balls of seed to pick off
daisies ready
for foragers to chain
the heads blown
on scattered pink tulips.
In the pot, shrunken earth
begs for water, surrounds
the holly tree
in need of bedding.
The cherry blossom has disappeared
in its place, full-grown leaves shaped
like children’s first pencilled attempts.
Drooping tendrils of silver birch,
a curtain through which to view
bright light, white
grey, the threat of rain.
ISBN: 978-1-907682-66-7 | Pages: 88 | Published: 2018
Starting with windmills, Milling the Air takes a slant look at the energy of airwaves, the air we breathe. Downsizing and faced with the arrival of a social identity card in a world where all climates are changing and on-line personas and personal identifiers fuel the information highway— a growing international market where identity is a commodity for sale — this third collection of poems explores the essence of identity, both personal and collective, and finds answers in grykes, gaps, the air itself alongside creative endeavour and poetry.
ISBN: 978-1-907682-29-2 | Pages: 72 | Published: 2013
The poems in Fear Knot are heightened by Susan’s evocative use of language and metaphor, layered by her skillful weaving of the intricacies of the human condition.
ISBN: 978-1-907682-04-9 | Pages: 72 | Published: 2011
For her, poetry is about playing with the words until something is revealed. The journey is everything, the destination something she knows is mostly out of her hands (review by Kevin Higgins, Galway Advertiser).
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Doire is the Irish word for oak grove, translating into English as Derry.