Gordon Ferris was born and raised in Finglas, a North West suburb of Dublin. In the early eighties, he moved to Donegal where he has lived ever since. He started writing in 2014 and has had many short stories and poems in publications including Hidden Channel, A New Ulster, The Galway Review, Impspired Magazine, and Lothlorien Poetry Journal. He has also won prizes in the summer 2020 HITA Creative Writing Competition for his poem ‘Mother’, and won the winter competition for his poem ‘The Silence’. Poetry Ireland awarded Gordon a Poetry Town Bursary in 2021.

I can’t tell you anything about 

I can’t tell you anything about 
the way you display your truths 
the sound you make 
so convincing, so right 
it’s in the way you explain things 
my lack of words to speak my thoughts 
it’s just my lack of nerve 
to utter those defiant words 
my lack makes me cower in your presence. 
I can’t tell you anything about 
how voices sing on moonlight breeze 
how shadows dance on the backyard wall 
how dug up memories make our neck hair freeze 
I can’t tell you anything about 
when the wicket takes all we have 
I take the troubled track 
Because our loved ones 
are all we have left. 

The worst thing about this war

the worst thing about this war is how the people 
look like you and I 
how we can look at the sky 
and not fear what’s falling on us 
how they all can leave 
except for men of fighting age 
did they once think It couldn’t 
happen to them, 
the way we think 
it will never happen to us 
would you volunteer to take arms 
and possibly die for your country 
let your child become an orphan 
let your soulmate go on alone 
will these times 
bring forth more legends 
or is it to be 
more loss of the innocents 
will more heroes be borne 
or blood lost on the battlefield 
to fill the coffers of suited men 
who presses the buttons 
and treat us all as pawns in their parlour games. 
I look at the pictures 
of a world gone 
of loved ones 
living in my heart 
in darkest times 
I call upon them 
when all begins to fade