We're shining the spotlight on some of the authors/poets who we feel really sum up the MONO. vibe. Steve Denehan is a poet from Kildare, Ireland and lives with his wife Eimear and daughter Robin. He is the author of two chapbooks and three poetry collections. Winner of the Anthony Cronin Poetry Award and twice winner of Irish Times' New Irish Writing, his numerous publication credits include Poetry Ireland Review and Westerly.' We love his work and we think you will too:
Hi Steve, sum yourself up for us in one sentence:
I'm drawing a blank here which is not a good start! I suppose I'm a person that gets up each day and tries not to mess up too badly.
What or who inspires your writing?
I often write about people close to me or things that have happened during the day but I think, more than anything, I tend to write about small things. The small things are the big things really after all.
Where do you like to write?
I write in the sitting room on a laptop mostly but sometimes a line or a poem comes along when I'm out and about so the phone comes in handy then.
Early bird or night owl? Night owl for sure! I've never been a morning person at all. There's a different feel to the world at night time I think. What's your favourite quote? That's a tough one, in that I don't know a whole lot of quotes! The old Bukowski line of 'Find what you love and let it kill you.' is always a winner but I like the Tom Waits line, 'A gentleman is someone who can play the accordion, but doesn't.' Tom really is a quote machine.
Who's your favourite author/poet and why? Narrowing it down to just one author or poet is pretty much impossible I think. But the book I have reread most is 'The Catcher in the Rye' by JD Salinger. It's not exactly a hidden gem I know but it's as close to a perfect piece of writing as I have ever read. I read it once every few years or so and each time it affects me just as deeply. Words of wisdom/writing advice?
Be brave enough to keep things simple. Complicated doesn't always mean better.
Poetry by Steve Denehan:
Mirrored Shades
There is such a thing
as mirror spray paint
I had no idea and plan
to stock up on it
to step into the garden and spray
every inch of myself
from my toenails
to the hair on my head
with a pair of mirrored shades
I will be invisible
I will walk down the street
through shopping malls
through the park
reflecting the world
back at itself
people might notice me
as a distortion
a ripple in the air
moving past
they might look at me
but they will only see themselves
which, when you get down to it
is all
they really want to see
anyway
November 2nd, 2021
I hadn’t expected it
just two days after Halloween
but on it came
during a break in the snooker
the first ad
for Christmas
I don’t even know
what it was for
but there was snow
a smiling family running
into the kitchen
crackers being pulled
all soundtracked
by a lilting version
of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
I thought of my mother and father
of other people
in other homes
watching angrily
strange bitterness boiling in them
steaming from them in clichés
It’s getting earlier every year!
Halloween has just been and gone!
It’s all a money racket!
Ridiculous, just ridiculous!
I look out the window
white clouds
hang in the blue sky
a half dozen birds
flit to and from the bird feeder
they are all the same
small, yellow-breasted
I don’t know what they are called
anonymouse_weezil
I ate the back of my hand last night
in a half-dream
half-nightmare
everything was vivid
besides the pain
of which there was none
the flesh was all texture and no taste
a gelatinous resistance
to my teeth and tongue
I saw the long, thin bones of my hand
moving smoothly up and down
as though seeing the workings
of a clock
with no face
online, I discovered
that there are experts for dreams
but not nightmares
people detailed their dreams on a forum
received analytical responses
were grateful
for a stranger’s insight
into their own subconscious
there were dreams of falling, murder
car crashes, drowning, being buried alive
I found just one instance of someone
eating their own hand
the analysis they received
spoke of a crisis of identity
a fear of losing the sense of self
or of being consumed by ambition
or obsession or a tendency
towards self-destruction or a yearning
to be a better communicator
each dream expert had a different explanation
often contrasting and conflicting
always vague
until anonymouse_weezil wrote
maybe it’s just a fuckin dream
which, in the end
is what I went with