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#eavanboland

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Imagine a moment where you had nothing to worry about and everything to enjoy. Pure happiness.
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#eavanboland ?

Great news @rob.corby , I'm kidnapping car line and bringing her to UL with us x #engineering #maths #eavanboland #freedom

Best of luck to everyone tomorrow in the Leaving and Junior.
Looking forward to getting these exams done JB straight away and enjoy the summer 🤙🏾 #peaceout #eavanboland

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Only a leaf of our laurel hedge is torn—
Of distant interest like a maimed limb,
Only a rose which now will never climb
The stone of our house, expendable, a mere
Line of defence against him, a volunteer
You might say, only a crocus, its bulbous head
Blown from growth, one of the screamless dead.
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In the second verse Boland captures our irreverence to matters not immediately affecting us. She compares death to “only a leaf.. torn”. Again she mixes beautiful imagery of flowers with that of “a maimed limb” to reinforce the brutality of the events with which we have now become impartial to. She compares the deaths of the volunteers in Northern Ireland to a rose which is merely “expendable”. This portrays the lack of sympathy from the rest of the country for those fighting for their beliefs as if their deaths are of less importance. Irrespective of whether I share their same views, I admire anyone who is willing to fight for their beliefs and also willing to die to protect them.
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Today people are becoming numb to the atrocities in the world. Every day on the news we hear stories of tragedy, destruction and death. This influences us into seeing the world in a negative light. After watching the news I often find myself saying “this world is fucked up”. But what the news often fails to show is amazing stories of the heroic deeds and incredible acts of love and compassion being expressed by people all over the world every day. Imagine if the news was full of these positive stories, how inspiring would that be? Instead of feeling powerless to help we would feel empowered to do more of the same. Instead of spreading hate and negativity we could spread love and positivity and in turn change how people see the world. I will always remember what an elderly woman told me as I waited at a bus stop a few years ago, “there is a lot of bad in the world but all you can do is focus on the good”. It is easy to continue to complain about the bad but change only happens when we focus on what good we can do!
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#eavanboland #thetroubles #focusonthegood #irishpoetry #dánoftheday

Chanleys angels 👼👼 #eavanboland #robertfrost

Brought my girl Eavan to keep me company in Dublin. 'If love is a civilization,
As I once hoped it was,
And you and I are its living citizens
And if our words
Are less than rules and more than remedies
As we speak, maybe
Someone escapes from a wounded morning
In a small classroom and finds
The world is not stern, after all.' Talking to my Daughter Late at Night
#EavanBoland #awomanwithoutacountry

In “That The Science of Cartography is Limited,” the speaker laments the failures of the mapmakers
in conveying the human circumstances which carved the lines of the famine roads into Irish topography. By way of background, the famine roads were a series of meaningless, meandering roads that connected nothing to nothing. They were constructed at the peak of the Irish Famine of 1847 and were assigned to Ireland’s poor and starving as tasks for which their relief was contingent. It was a fool’s errand; about a million people died during the famine and many more emigrated to flee starvation. In the poem, the speaker walks to the edge of the cobble where it falls away into the grass, noting that “Where they died, there the road ended.” Her lamentation is that this the mapmaker simply cannot describe in two dimensions the totality of the experience which she imagines to have taken place on the very spot where her feet stand.
#EavanBoland, the poet who penned the work described above, has been on my mind a lot in the last few days. As you can see in my feed, a portion of my work uses photography as a means to explore subjects for which there is no active verb. The #bombshelters and the nuclear silos inhabit places which, when viewed in two dimensions offer only fragments of a story that the imagination must backfill. For me, the exercise of stepping foot in these lost places provides a starting point for understanding the these similarly Sisyphusian enterprises. They are testaments to human folly washed clean by the grass which grows over them.
Pictured here, behind the moving billboards and carefully tucked away under a layer of black paint and cedar plank fencing lies the superstructure for the entrance to the #ClaphamCommons Deep Level (Bomb) Shelter, used during the German #Blitz of #WorldWarII. The site was one of eight constructed during the war which housed thousands of Londoners deep below the level of the Northern subway line during the relentless German bombings. Though their history is fairly well known, the structures themselves have been blurred into the city’s background in the seven decades following the war.

London reunion!! I met these two amazing poets on the same day over thirteen years ago. Thanks, Eavan Boland and Shara Lessley. #eavanboland

'Grow your garden, Keep house, good bye' #eavanboland #glackkk #swurthatflowersmeltnice

MOST RECENT

Strand and Boland's "The Making of a Poem: A Norton Anthology of Poetic Forms." | Poetry has been my outlet for thoughts and emotions, ever since I took an English literature class in the university. I enjoy reading poems like observing a painting. I step back to see the big picture, lean in to focus on the details, always discovering something new. There will be lines and forms which move me, such as this one from Adrienne Rich: "I came to explore the wreck. / The words are purposes. / The words are maps. / I came to see the damage that was done / and the treasures that prevail." #themakingofapoem #markstrand #eavanboland #poetry #JaviReads

"She put out her hand and pulled down/
the French sound for apple and/
the noise of stone" #eavanboland #pomegranate #seasons #northerngreece

"III. The Pinhole Camera," (solar eclipse, August 1999) from Against Love Poetry by Eavan Boland. "The sun is in eclipse:
if this were legend
the king of light would turn his face away." #poetry #eavanboland #solareclipse2017 #solareclipse #powerandnature #lovepoetry #myth

Great news @rob.corby , I'm kidnapping car line and bringing her to UL with us x #engineering #maths #eavanboland #freedom

I finally own a collection by Eavan Boland ❤🌹🌷 #eavanboland #poet #irishpoet #poetry #femalepoet #outsidehistory #love

"The pomegranate! How did I forget it?" /// take two of the August #artsnackschallenge inspired by my most favorite poem. Loved experimenting with the acrylic ink!
🖌🖌🖌🖌🖌🖌🖌🖌🖌🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨
#artsnacks #illustration #pomegranate #eavanboland #drawing #persephone #muliebrity

Brought my girl Eavan to keep me company in Dublin. 'If love is a civilization,
As I once hoped it was,
And you and I are its living citizens
And if our words
Are less than rules and more than remedies
As we speak, maybe
Someone escapes from a wounded morning
In a small classroom and finds
The world is not stern, after all.' Talking to my Daughter Late at Night
#EavanBoland #awomanwithoutacountry

One of my all time favorites. Especially for Heartbreak Monday.
#love #quarantine #1944 #eavanboland #poetry

Probably the best night ever, apart from the wine vodka beer and the 3 hour walk home #gavin #eavanboland #625

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