I had so much fun writing this poem. Truly an emotional and intellectual challenge. First, I got to express my obsession with County Clare and
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
shallow tomb
Hi, friends. Time to dust off your Old Testament for a reread of 2 Samuel 11 and 12. The sins of King David with Bathsheba
O gentle Death
I suffer from thanatophobia. I fear death. Not sure if that fear roots itself in my failing search for god or my strong disbelief in
hounds
Rejection. How many times in our lives have we suffered unrequited love? Where the rules of love’s engagements change midstream, and we are left wanting
in adoration
Nearly 30 years since my wife and I first started dating. I still love her more today than the day before. There are moments, like
viny thorns
Forbidden love. Poets have broken the hearts of readers for millennia exploring this tragic theme. The ensuing tragedies and repercussions from these taboo affairs echo
sentenced to suffer
This poem explores the notion of suffering. There is something profound to me in that idea. In reality, do we get so accustomed to our
uncomely gadfly
I wrote this poem to honor my strong, bold, headstrong daughters… now young women. May the early feminism demonstrated by Xanthippe always guide them on
in my abandon
Have you ever lost yourself in passion? Surrendered yourself, body and soul, to a moment? That feeling is so unforgettable. It can even trend a
labors of Hebe
“As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport.” – William Shakespeare, King Lear. This poem attempts to
blessed night
nyctophilia – an abnormal preference for the night; a condition of being very happy and comfortable in the dark. My friends @ Quill & Crow
light and shadow
This poem takes root in Irish mythology… the story of Fionn & Sadhbh. Epilogue with background story to follow. EPILOGUE A dark sorcerer turns the
cast no shadow
I almost named this poem “a poet’s passage”. Personally, the notion of death terrifies me. But this vignette is as close to a perfect death
fragrant memories
For me, there is a certain je ne sais quoi about stories with surprise endings, poetic or otherwise. I struggle to capture the words for
roses wilted
Grief is so powerful. So devastating. It can make us feel powerless, even useless. I intentionally structured this poem as a simple, short vignette and
juniper grows sparse
Sometimes nightmares are so vivid, they warrant capture… in words. This scene was so clear to me when I opened my eyes. I’m often left
croagh patrick ☘
Being the namesake of an Irish saint like Saint Patrick is a heavy burden. Especially on St Paddy’s Day. But it’s a Celtic cross I
transgressions paid
I often find myself drawn back to Ireland in my poetry. Not sure if it’s a matter of ancestry alone. We have visited “the motherland”
northern lights
My Twitter friend, Martii, was my Muse for this poem. She lives in Norway and asked me to write a poem that combined passion with
yoknapatawpha
Lies. Sins. In some cases, can death be the one true forgiveness for our lies and sins? Or can we learn to forgive those who