Amy Barry (Irland)

Amy Barry (Irland)

Amy Barry writes poems and short stories. She is published in anthologies, journals, and press and e-zines globally, including Southword, Sunday Tribune, The Blue Nib, Paris Lit Up, Opiate, Live Encounter. Her poems have been translated into many languages including Turkish, Persian and Italian. Recipient of Neruda Award 2017 (Poetry) Italy. She took 1st & 2nd prize in the English Poetry at PAU World Poetry Day in 2017/ 2018. Highly Commended (Poetry) in SiarSceal International Literary Festival in 2017/2019. Highly Commended in the Francis Ledwidge Award 2019. Shortlisted for the Roscommon Poets Prize 2020. Recipient of Words Ireland National Mentoring Programme 2020 supported by Roscommon Arts Centre.
Featured in the RTE Radio One Extra in Reverberations Series 2, Nov.2019.
She has performed her work in Ireland & internationally.
Divine parallelism
What I want is to hear
my heart beats like lusty fire
and see my fingers reach out
to touch your breath.
What I want is to embrace you,
and my feverish lips
to kiss you with urgency
like the desire of a storm —
where
beauty and passion erupt
like the rising sun.
A towering affection
The breeziness of unexpected affection,
comes like a perfected dream,
shatters my calm.
I try not to lose myself,
yet, I drown in his taunting charms,
like a spray of exquisite perfume,
too beautiful to part with.
I’m like a puerile child,
an inane dependence
handcuffed to his heart.
There’s no way to say Goodbye
We promised ourselves a trip-
On the road like Kerouac;
To see everything-
close our eyes
and dream with the peeling waves.
Cigarette dangling from his lips,
he strummed the Electric gypsy.
Blazing-eyed,
he sang of darkness,
revenge, life, death.
His mind scribbled notes.
My eyes transfixed,
he was a butterfly on a bush-
A charming bastard,
but complex,
confused.
Like the sharp, strong afternoon sun-
Joy became pain sliding deeper,
and deeper into my skin.
My happiness slit
like recurring nightmares.
The past sealed like a tomb.

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