Three Poems by Hiram Larew







Hiram Larew’s poetry appears in recent issues of Viator, Contemporary American VoicesVoices IsraelAmsterdam QuarterlyHonest Ulsterman and Lunaris Review (Nigeria). He is on Facebook at Hiram Larew, Poet and at Poetry X Hunger


Achill Sound’ and ‘Ode to the Edge’ were written during a stay at the Heinrich Böll Writers Cottage, Achill Island, County Mayo, Ireland. 

















Achill Sound  


When the roads curve like sound

           and dip as if lifting to bow

Whenever all thoughts round or cluster

            or when hearts call down

                        is Ireland


And as rich when poor was

or as wise as bare heads in snow seemed

           and as twigs so frail broke into song

           and as true as any blight or potato could be

                          was Ireland


So when sand laps the senses

            or salt drips the edges as dreams

Whenever hope streams through such heavens

            and moss comes home

            or hearts beam down

                            is Ireland.














Ode to the Edge






of barley swept brooms

             or folds lost spun

of moons learned and books overgrown

of clamoring salt or silvered youth

              and stems of tuck

              and tables fussed

              or views knotted

of loosened bends

              and rustled sleep

              in nestled flings

of cornered moons and passing tolds

of borders loved

of lostings over

              and slipping spins.


              such bracken faith —

the candled roam

the lights-dimmed rhymes of boyhood

the limbing down and thready pulse

the plunging smear of drizzle dreams

               or sun-set shoulders

the sour blending sounds

               and humming kites up-tugging

and brackish stars or crusted roams

               and finding sounds of evening

               these odes to edge

the cloud’s full-urging scuttle

the dinner lights of boyhood


so sandled sky

               the brimming stray and purpled fust

               the daggly sog near by

                            with cresting buds just barely

               the hillside breath

so streakling skies

               the arrows’ lifted grateful view

                             sung-up like curved and few

                             and short as views surrounding

where land rolls far beyond

                 with knowing wings the ways

                 that see ahead.

                 through every dangle heart


Our Us 


Dazzle leaf these slanted nights

      by gozzy green and every most

      as outside lails atop our us and so

          shines open love

              shines budly

                   shines lufty new so inside out.


Treat truly green to dayling eyes

     become above as branch’s lips

          and so be dawned in fulward


Then even more

     in majest more

          make razzle waking ways


But most of all and over all

     upcaw our bless

          and glow us.


Hiram Larew 


‘Achill Sound’ was first published in The Echo World