Hello, dear friends, My focus in this week’s poem was on the metaphor of a storm – an external vs internal event of chaos. In
Author: PS Conway
Hey everyone! Welcome to Life Sucks. Laugh Here. In my college years, I was an English major and aspiring writer. Then life took over - marriage and kids - in our mid-twenties. Like all good Catholics of Irish descent, I literally looked sideways at my wife, and she was pregnant three weeks after our wedding.
And then the ride of life began. My writing took a backseat for the next twenty-five years. But now, our daughters are raised, and my wife and I are in a Renaissance phase of our lives. As I begin to write again, I see so much negativity, tribalism, and anger on social media... so many people seem to think life sucks. The only antidote to this mind-rotting negativity that I know of, albeit transient, is laughter. So, I have committed to writing and growing this blog around that singular objective... try my damnedest to provide original writing that makes people laugh. And maybe think a little, too. Hope you really enjoy. If you laugh, please share this blog with your friends so we can grow our subscriber base and online influence. We are on a mission to spread joy, mirth, cheer, yule, and good humor to as many folks as possible. Thank you for joining this effort. Sláinte! - PS Conway
heaven i knew
This week’s poem, for me, highlights the dangers of absolute thinking. The poem alludes to many characters from Irish mythology, folklore, and history – the
the leaves forget
As I daydream by my window, snug & warm, and watch the world transition to winter, an homage to autumn felt so good to me.
the coward
I do not write much war poetry. But this poem came to me as I was thinking through the power of juxtaposition and irony. And
saffron sunrise
The enduring power of love. What a truly poetic notion. In this poem, I am exploring a tragic “end” to forbidden love. Shipwrecked and doomed,
time-tested rafters
Enjoy this new poem. Something fiendishly fun for your Halloween 2021. If the spirits move you, please feel free to leave your thoughts in the
whisper me to sleep
One thing I love about writing poetry is attempting to get inside the head of a character – explore their thoughts and feelings from a
hooded shadow
For those of you who regularly read my poetry, you know I often interject allusions to mythology, Celtic legends, the bible, literature, etc. I fundamentally
blot of ink
On one of our trips to Ireland, my wife and I visited the burial site of my favorite poet, WB Yeats. The cryptic and provocative
chairside twilight
Sometimes a poem is an expression of pure, unadulterated emotion. That’s it. Simple in its intention. No great masterwork of literature. Just a good read
servant of none
As so many of you tell me, much to my unending delight, you genuinely enjoy my references to mythology, religion, and literature in my poetry.
rainbow’s end
Since ancient times, repetition has been a bedrock of poetry. Both in written and oral traditions, poetic repetition helps shape rhythm. That rhythm is what
mercies gained
I loved this poem from the moment my Muses pushed me to pen it. But, alas, I’m a bit biased. To be sure, it uses
morning dew
There are so many sayings, expressions, and idioms regarding the eyes. This poem seeks to focus in on the enormity of a moment captured in
dark sea sonnet
Sometimes I kick back after writing a poem, reread it, and am left wondering who wrote it. Seriously. Isn’t that so weird? Total “out of
the Whispering Tree
Who doesn’t love a good faerie tale? As a young lad of Irish descent, I was raised to believe that the fae were not to
buried by your side
Oh my broken poet’s heart! Irish mythology and legend contain so many heart-wrenchingly tragic love stories. They could make William Shakespeare cry! But the backstory
blue moon
We make so many assumptions when we read literature – especially poetry. So much of what we take away from a poem is informed by
empty canvas
This poem is sad. No question about it. I cried when I finished it. Broke my heart. But what is it about certain poems that
this magical night
Who doesn’t love romantic poetry and smushy gushy language? This is a love poem, for sure, on a surface-level reading. But I like it all