Matt Mooney. Born, a farmers son, in Kilchreest, Co. Galway in 1943. A graduate of UCG and UCC he has been a Vocational Teacher in Listowel where he is proud to be one of its townspeople. His collections of poems are: Droving (2003), Falling Apples (2010), Earth to Earth (2015), The Singing Woods (2017), Steering by the Stars (2021), Éalú (2021). Winner of The Pádraig Liath Ó Conchubhair Award 2019. (Filíocht/Poetry).
He is a reviewer, copy editor and proof reader with the Galway Review Literary Magazine.
His poems and writings have been published in:
The Blue Nib; The Amaravati International Poetic Prism Anthology; The Galway Review (online), The Galway Review Anthology; Feasta; West 47; The Applicant; Poetry Breakfast; Poems on the Edge; The Connaught Tribune,The Kerryman and Kerrys Eye; The Galway Advertiser (Peann agus Pár); Pendemic, Live Encounters and in Musings during a Time of Pandemic, a World Anthology.
He has been a feature reader in The White House, Ó Bhéal, On the Nail, West Cork Literary Festival, Baffle, Féile Raifteirí, Éigse Dara Beag , The Forge in Gort and has featured online in Cultivating Voices (USA) and Not the time to be Silent. Some of his poems have been translated in Colombia and published in Spanish literary magazines.
One of his poems appears on the syllabus of a number of UK Primary Schools . His poems have been read on: RTE Radio, Wired FM, Radio Kerry.
Steering by the Stars
(To Michael Hartnett)
‘My poems are written’ you said,
on being told to trim your sails
to stop you drifting on the rocks
and drift you did and you left us
looking into the sunset for you.
Once in crossroads conversation
sitting around in the Arms Hotel,
in the quiet before Writers Week,
I put it to you as to where I was
or if I was on the right bus at all.
‘Are you a poet?’ you threw at me
in a voice that put me sitting up,
knighting a vagrant soul searcher
strangely by a serious challenge –
led by the beck of your tilted cap.
Down the road I look back at you
eye to eye with me, taking me on.
Mine will be written too Michael,
yes, mine will be written soon …
from here I will steer by the stars.
Blowing at the gate Summer soon
see my blooms fall as snow
cherry blossoms from my crown
petals settle do not broom
rain has been dripping green
fleeting dream pink and clean
warmer winds I’ll make amends
cannot stay I’m April
I’m sudden squalls sun and run
enjoy me can’t buy me
I’m on my way to May.