Tuesday, 10 May 2016

Divertimento - The Muse is a Dominatrix by Peter O'Neill

A la recherche des jeunes filles perdues, homage to Christophe Mourthe and Marcel Proust., by Peter O' Neill
Divertimento - The Muse is a Dominatrix by Peter O'Neill
edited by Walter Ruhlmann

Cover photograph, A la recherche des jeunes filles perdues, homage to Christophe Mourthe and Marcel Proust., by Peter O' Neill.

© mgv2>publishing, May 2016

Price: €6.00 (excl. VAT) Paperback, 92 Pages Buy it here

Peter O' Neill was born in Cork in 1967. He is the author of The Dark Pool, also published by mgv2>publishing, of which the poet Michael S. Begnal had this to say:

The Dark Pool is a self-confident collection, on the one hand knowingly playing on the poetic modes of its author's influences while at the same time attesting to O' Neill's unique achievements.
(Trumpet, Poetry Ireland.)

He was made writer in residence of the boathouse in Loughshinny, near to his home-town of Skerries, in North County Dublin, by Fingal Arts. There he also hosts Donkey Shots, Skerries International Avant Garde Literary Fest in the spring. He is currently working on his 13th collection.


From the foreword by Carmen-Francesca Banciu

Sometimes in order to grow and fly one has to leave a place and look at it from a distance.
Sometime one hast to climb a mountain in order to see the whole picture from above. 
And sometimes one hast to return, to continue the path that was once started.


With all his strength Peter O´Neill adheres to poetry. As poetry is flight. And he is one who has wings in his mouth. As he is one who has the duty to show to us how to fly.

Excerpt from Divertimento

The Slave

I can smell the odour coming from your mouth,
That hole in your face where our tongues go to dance
And which causes so much destruction
That we are obliged to lie down together,
For only then can we discover our proper geography.

With my mouth on the ends of your breasts,
Surveyed by your eyes which watch me with a curiously
Intense fascination, then can I make the unique
Journey, travelling down your magnificent limbs
With their skin so soft, to your feet,
Where, like a slave of old, I get to lick
The dust off of the mollusc Queen.

No comments:

Post a Comment