Odd as F*ck (eBook, ePUB)
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In this collection, the author loses, finds and redefines herself, in poems that are sometimes visceral and often humorous. She ultimately shows how meaningful life can become after a period of darkness and how transformative those experiences can be. Anne Walsh Donnelly's debut chapbook with Fly on the Wall Press 'The Woman With An Owl Tattoo' came 2nd at the International Poetry Book Awards 2020.'These are personal poems, where the reader shares with the poet a space as intimate as the conjugal bed. From the everyday idiom of housewives and farmers to the imagined voices of beasts and inanim...
In this collection, the author loses, finds and redefines herself, in poems that are sometimes visceral and often humorous. She ultimately shows how meaningful life can become after a period of darkness and how transformative those experiences can be. Anne Walsh Donnelly's debut chapbook with Fly on the Wall Press 'The Woman With An Owl Tattoo' came 2nd at the International Poetry Book Awards 2020.
'These are personal poems, where the reader shares with the poet a space as intimate as the conjugal bed. From the everyday idiom of housewives and farmers to the imagined voices of beasts and inanimate objects, Anne Walsh Donnelly captures the humour and pathos of real life with unique honesty.' - Audrey Molloy, poet and author of Satyress
'In Odd as F*ck, Anne Walsh Donnelly recounts one woman's journey through pain and growth. The poems are poignant, stark, and beautiful, heavy with unanswered questions, but buoyed up by levity. This is potent work.' -Nuala O'Connor, author of The Juno Charm
Sample poem;
1957 - 1959
On the hottest Sunday in July,
the same day Mam got her first period,
she was sent to her father's room
to wake him for tea.
She cried when she touched his tepid skin
and begged him to open his eyes.
In the fields cattle lowed, udders heavy with milk.
Two Christmases later,
my grandmother pressed Mam's hand
against her abdomen,
told her of the operation in January.
'I'm afraid I might not wake up.'
'You mustn't cry,
you have to be strong for your sisters,'
the nuns told Mam, the day before the funeral.
She watched over her sisters
as they stood shivering in the graveyard,
under the shadow of a Great Oak.
She became the roots of their saplings,
chainsawed through her own pain.
'This is poetry; raw, untethered, honest poetry. It is poetry that doesn't hide, doesn't whisper but instead stands tall and roars. It allows us to get to know the author, to journey with her as she navigates through family, sexuality, ageing and motherhood. This is poetry that tells us that it's okay, that life is often not easy but there is always hope, poetry that gets straight to the point, that is pure, that is real. This is poetry.' -Steve Denehan, poet and author of Days of Falling Flesh and Rising Moons
'Anne Walsh Donnelly states that Death is not nothing, it is everything-this could be the manifesto for her fierce and delicate poetry. A disarming openness and honesty lights up in every poem while her voice never loses its humour or balance, ranging. from the visionary to a wonderfully universal everyday demotic.' - Martina Evans, poet and author of Now We Can Talk Openly About Men
'These are personal poems, where the reader shares with the poet a space as intimate as the conjugal bed. From the everyday idiom of housewives and farmers to the imagined voices of beasts and inanimate objects, Anne Walsh Donnelly captures the humour and pathos of real life with unique honesty.' - Audrey Molloy, poet and author of Satyress
'In Odd as F*ck, Anne Walsh Donnelly recounts one woman's journey through pain and growth. The poems are poignant, stark, and beautiful, heavy with unanswered questions, but buoyed up by levity. This is potent work.' -Nuala O'Connor, author of The Juno Charm
Sample poem;
1957 - 1959
On the hottest Sunday in July,
the same day Mam got her first period,
she was sent to her father's room
to wake him for tea.
She cried when she touched his tepid skin
and begged him to open his eyes.
In the fields cattle lowed, udders heavy with milk.
Two Christmases later,
my grandmother pressed Mam's hand
against her abdomen,
told her of the operation in January.
'I'm afraid I might not wake up.'
'You mustn't cry,
you have to be strong for your sisters,'
the nuns told Mam, the day before the funeral.
She watched over her sisters
as they stood shivering in the graveyard,
under the shadow of a Great Oak.
She became the roots of their saplings,
chainsawed through her own pain.
'This is poetry; raw, untethered, honest poetry. It is poetry that doesn't hide, doesn't whisper but instead stands tall and roars. It allows us to get to know the author, to journey with her as she navigates through family, sexuality, ageing and motherhood. This is poetry that tells us that it's okay, that life is often not easy but there is always hope, poetry that gets straight to the point, that is pure, that is real. This is poetry.' -Steve Denehan, poet and author of Days of Falling Flesh and Rising Moons
'Anne Walsh Donnelly states that Death is not nothing, it is everything-this could be the manifesto for her fierce and delicate poetry. A disarming openness and honesty lights up in every poem while her voice never loses its humour or balance, ranging. from the visionary to a wonderfully universal everyday demotic.' - Martina Evans, poet and author of Now We Can Talk Openly About Men
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