New Poetry, Fiction, Essays

Beth Kilkenny, Poetry

Beth lives in Dublin. She writes a feminist parenting blog, and is also an MA student of Gender Studies. Her poetry is on the themes of motherhood and womanhood.










Not his, not theirs, not ours,

not yours.

No papers, no vows, no book,

no belief

bestowed upon you ownership

of me.





How odd, I thought.That they would use red string to repair me.

It was my blood, your heart, our hearts

Passed through me.




People you don’t know will stop you in the street

and tell you things you didn’t ask to hear.

“Maybe he’s cold? He should be wearing a hat”

People you don’t know will look at you in the street

and give you sympathetic looks,

“Perhaps he’s hungry – I’d give him an extra bottle.”

and consoling smiles

“ Are you getting any sleep, love, you look tired.”

And you will look at them, (timidly,

through glassy eyes, made weak

through tears, and love, and uncertainty)

you will look at them, the people on the street,

that you don’t know, and wonder why,

they can’t keep

their goddam


to themselves.



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