Ariadne’s Notes: The World Poetry Café Radio Show , CFRO 100.5 FM on March 23, 1-2 PM, welcomed the Irish poet Tony Frisby, calling from England at 1:40 PST,near the white cliffs of Dover, with the wind providing the background music as he read in Gaelic and English. It was great to hear his beautiful voice and Irish lilt as he read his poetry. Featured studio poet Deborah Kelly also has Irish ancestors and appreciated his inspiring poetry.
Having left school in Waterford at 14, Tony Frisby emigrated to England a few years later where he worked a labourer, general handyman, fruit picker, fitter’s mate, sewage worker, waiter then cook in a London Wimpy Bar until finally gaining a toe hold in the white collar world.
Solvent at last, he eventually ‘returned’ to education in the mid-eighties finally graduating from Brunel with a Masters in Renaissance and Modern Literature before embarking on a PhD in Northern Irish Poetry.
However, by now smitten by the poetic form, he abandoned his academic studies to concentrate on writing poetry rather than commenting on it.
He now lives on the South Coast where he is currently working on the fifth in a ten part series of ‘Letters’ poems written about and from, this, his ‘second’ place.
Awards B Hums, Masters [Renaissance and Modern Literature]
Doctorate in Northern Irish Poetry – Brunel Uni left.
by Tony Frisby – Tony Frisby Poetry – An Irish Voice In Verse – Facebook Page
In Gaelic :
Sac Eile móna
Is fada an bóthar
ón Trá Ar ais ag Trá Mhór
leis na haillte bána ag Black Rock.
Agus is leor in aghaidh na bliana
ós rud é codlata ceann a scannáin ladhar
ag Ma Crosby ar Coliseum Pictiúrlann
aice Túr Raghnaill.
Ach tá sé aon turas ar chor ar bith
i mo shúil aigne;
sa-am a thógann sé
a mheabhrú Uncail Micky i bPort Lách,
Is féidir liom a bheith ann agus ar ais le sac eile
a móna fearr triomaithe
téamh an ruacain mo chroí.
Another sack of turf
It’s a long road from the Back Strand at Tramore/
to the white cliffs at Black Rock.
And it’s many a year /since sleeping head to toe and cowboy films
at Ma Crosby’s Coliseum Cinema near Reginald’s Tower.
But it’s no journey at all in my minds eye;
for in the time it takes to remember Uncle Micky in Portlaw,
I can be there and back with another sack of his best dried turf
warming the cockles of my heart.
By Tony Frisby (C) All rights reserved by the author.