'No make up selfie'

Face scrubbed clean,

camera poised

angled for the best shot

full on, or profile?

Should my hair be neat,

or tousled to go with

the bare skinned

just up look?

Picture posted

three hundred likes

friends nominated,

my heart thumps

with good feelings

perhaps my £3 have

saved a life.

I choose to hide

the stories of

real life struggles

the photos

of mastectomy scars,

heads bald and faces

bare of eyebrows and lashes

my body has not been ravaged

by a disease, and its cure

that leaves me

skin and bone, hairless

drawn and exhausted.

No I have done my bit

posted my photo, sent the cash

my selfie for cancer is

as far as I want to go

as much as I want to know

I've told the world

I support the research

but I cannot bear to

see the truth.

©Niamh Hill

These selfies make me livid

Niamh Hill is a former accountant and primary school teacher who enjoys reading and writing poetry, yoga and changing the world for the better over a coffee with friends

Pissing Against the Wind

She stood,
she ruled,
she rained iron
on the supposed mighty
beat them at their own game,
the spray back did not faze her
she remained firm against the gale;
her vision clear,
a nation to be proud of
working towards a goal
of people united yet independent,
earning a wage,
owning a home.
Some fell by the wayside
and still they lay the blame,
they rail at perceived injustice,
soaked in ineptitude,
they made no gain
from her golden reign

Margaret Thatcher's death

© Niamh Hill

Niamh Hill is a former accountant and primary school teacher on a career break, indulging in yoga, reading and writing.

Two poems about Savita

All for nothing           

Laid out
in a red wedding sari,
her life frittered away as easily
 as scattered dust.

Weeping like a child,
he whispers
her name over
     and over again.

How do we justify this?

© Amy Barry

Savita laid out in wedding sari

Amy Barry has worked in the media industry as a Public Relations officer. Her poems have been published in Ireland and abroad. She lives in Athlone, Ireland.


The other side

A victim of our throwaway society
no voice to protest
no means to fight
a collection of cells
that is a part of you and me.

Who gives me the power to
terminate
exterminate
because the time is not right?

I cut it out as I would
a tumour
discard it like a used napkin
stained and besmirched

the only malignancy it
carries is a threat
to bring out the best,

or the worst

 in us.

© Niamh Hill

Savita death leads to call for clearer NI abortion law

Niamh Hill is a former accountant and primary school teacher on a career break, indulging in yoga, reading and writing.