These poems are part of TN2’s ongoing poetry series, “Line Break”. Line Break aims to give a platform to exciting new poets from Trinity. If you would like your poetry to be considered for publication, simply submit it to literature@tn2magazine.ie, along with your name and a one-sentence bio.
Go Off by Brí Joyce
Everyone is as desperately lonely as you are
we all want to leave
The glittering ascension will take those who lied and cheated
and you will be denied the right to orgasm
Vicky by Maria McDonnell
As young girls we learn to adapt to our future woman’s role,
Still innocent, wild and childlike, but monthly cycles take their toll.
“Learn to live with it,” we’re told, “You can now become a mother!”
“It isn’t fair, we want to play,” we say, envious of our carefree brother.
We hide it all with shame, as we purchase our monthly packet,
Uncomfortable and full of pain, but we mustn’t make a racket.
Our mothers sit us down and give us the talk on the birds and the bees,
“Be careful, keep away from the boys,” as if they’re cursed with a deadly disease.
But it’s part of nature, we carry on, and we learn to live with it,
From as young as ten years old to fifty, it really seems quite shit.
So time goes by, we girls mature and bodies begin to change,
Breast checks, smear tests and pregnancies, it all seems very strange.
We take good care of our bodies and we do what we’ve been told,
Trust in the medical experts, not realising the lies we’ve been sold.
If you catch this disease in time, chances are you’ll have a long life:
Good news to hear if you’re a mother and a devoted wife.
So results come back and all is fine, we breathe a sigh of relief,
Carrying on with life as normal, spared having to deal with grief.
Doubts start to occur now, something’s not right inside —
But we have faith in the system, sure they’d have nothing to hide.
Until one brave young woman decides to question her pain.
“I’ll have a sneaky look at my charts, I’ve nothing to lose or gain.”
And there in black and white, she sees horror on her file.
“Good God, there must be an error, I’ve been sick for such a while…”
She pursues these revelations, and is given the terrible news:
“I’m afraid it’s terminal now, it’s a battle you will have to lose.”
The fear,sadness,and anger, the smell of flesh burning,
Inside her heart was breaking, and her stomach turning
“OK, we all have to go sometime, but this could’ve been prevented.”
Now she wasn’t alone, with over two hundred cases presented.
Becoming an advocate for all those suffering, wanting to reveal the big lie,
Bringing it to the courts, wanting to live, not die.
More stories unfolded, other women going through the same,
Dishonest excuses were given, the apologies seemed so lame.
There were Emma, Patricia and Ruth, to name but a few that have passed,
But this soldier carries on fighting, new treatments providing hope at last.
Overcoming is how she sums it up, as she spoke out against all the rules,
In a country run by deceit, making women look like poor fools.
I hope and I pray, dear Vicky, that you beat this in the end,
And I know I speak for the women of Ireland, with all the love and hugs we send.
Autumn Leaves by Hilary Mullen
Autumn leaves,
Doc Marten boots,
Auburn curls,
And polo neck jumpers.
Nothing wrong with autumn to me.
Should springtime be for new beginnings,
Why would the school year start in September?
I have been looking forward for the leaves to fall for a while.
Promises made of warmer September days.
After all of the harshness given this past year, normally seen in Winter’s, we deserve it.
But knowing how nature works, it may be more likely November by the time we see changes,
But nonetheless there are still Autumn leaves on the ground.
The Irish did not get their hot girl summer,
The skies were too cloudy.
new life begins with a golden autumn,
When traditionally hibernation begins,
We’ll be coming from shadows now,
With brighter days walking under autumn leaves.
Art by Emily Stevenson