Times Present and Past by Liam McNevin

Published by Swan Press, Dublin, Times Present & Past is Liam McNevin's first collection of poetry. Liam is from Dublin and has been writing for many years. He is a member of Virginia House Creative Writers. His work has appeared in journals such as Boyne Berries and Flare, Tallaght Soundings anthologies, and online in Pendemic, Drawn to the Light Press and Live Encounters, among others.

Opening with Amour Vitae Meae (love of my life), a serenade to his wife, McNevin has an unsullied sensitivity of spirit found throughout the book in poems such as Soulmate, where he feels the calming presence of his passed father come to him on his son's confirmation day. He appreciates moments. The poet has a talent for rhyme. Of falling leaves in Autumn he writes,

They remind me of dying embers,

of life coming to a close;

fiery blenheim garlands,

in restful repose. 

McNevin has a deep appreciation for the beauty of nature and nuances of light. In Campus he notes 'Early sunrise, IT Tallaght', and stops 'to take a photo/to put into verse and leave grass frost/footprints in my wake.' In Morning, while observing the crescent moon he sees 'jet lines and pinkish cloud/paint a winter sunrise'. While in Skyscape he is 'enthralled by the dawn/of a winter sky.' He spies in the darkness a 

flickering star,

a lighthouse flung-far

amidst a sea

of inky blue.

McNevin remembers those who have touched his life in character poems. Of Buddy he says 'Of course I'd like to see you as you always were./When as a young fella we'd meet', continuing with the wisdom of the line '...elders give credit...saw our show for attention as the anxious/thing.' He recalls the man who sold the Evening Herald newspaper with 'face similar to his tanned cap' in Selling the news. From another in Fisherman's blues he learns the perk of fishing, 'To step away from the routine of everyday/and let his mind wander at random.' Of a colleague, Valerie, he pens, 'No words spoken could ease your going;/but time allows for a tribute in a poem.'

The poet is concerned with the art of writing and in improving craft. In Ballpoint, an ode to the pen, he muses, 'should I really say that?' Sombre days finds him experiencing 'this threading water/while waiting for a topic to arrive.' Work in progress unearths his mission and mantra,

The task: To have a piece of writing

that is sturdy when the unveiling mist lifts

which assists in keeping lit, the pilot light

of confidence. 

I enjoyed the grace of this collection. Liam McNevin wears the true, heart-and-soul cloak of a poet, sensitive to moments of beauty and wonder about him, and ready to step out of the ordinary into the act. I particularly loved Holiday morning which captures the quiet, stillness of a moonlit night so vividly. Looking again to the skies he understands, 'Creation I'm a part of;/significant, though small.'

For more information contact liamedia15@gmail.com