Psychomama's blog

I was trying to daydream, but my mind kept wandering.


January 20
The quotation on my banner is from Steven Wright.
I'm a working wife and mother whose 50th birthday resolution is to develop a life - friends, a book club, a voice... I've loved writing all my life and I've loved talking all my life - it's the convergence of these two modes that's been difficult! But I'm working on it... All posts copyright Agalma 2009. The quotation on my banner is from Steven Wright.


In advance of the forthcoming "Psychoanalytic Poetry Festival" at the Freud Museum in London, later this month, here are ten poems which mark significant moments and life-stages.  

Jacques Lacan suggested that poetry was a supremely efficient coping mechanism, containing our fears and anxietyies… Read full post »

We all of us accept the restorative power of sharing our problems in a safe space, of talking them through with an intimate stranger.  Sometimes, however, it can be difficult to find the words to symbolise a trauma that has remained un-spoken for a long time, to find the words for… Read full post »

'The gift of life.'

Recently I've been thinking about what life means, what it's all for, why are we put on this earth and other unanswerable questions.  Maybe it's the New Year, a time for reflection and anticipation.  In looking for a suitable meditation I was struck by the phrase 'gift… Read full post »
AUGUST 25, 2011 7:44AM

It's All in the Perspective

Portland, New York
compass points of
longing and latitude
parsing my world
one a vacation
one a vocation

If I ever get rich again
which is all relative anyway
I’ll never spend a penny
I’ll save it all
like Silas
like Midas
grubby, greedy, Gollum-like

Or maybe I’ll go to Portland
and rent a bike… Read full post »

JUNE 21, 2011 12:14PM

On Being (here before)

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

The question sticks in my mouth
like sultry dough that
refuses to be licked from my lips.

Life is a game of chances
played in (blind T)error
a dice cast in dismay-motion.

Now and then,
a recognition comes un-bidden
shivers of might-have-been,
an instinctual… Read full post »

JUNE 5, 2011 4:54AM

Sunday morning sensibility

“Sensible as pyjamas”.

It’s Sunday morning and I’m listening to the radio.  The phrase captivates me; I cannot leave it be.   It is suspended above the crater that was my imagination.  

My husband is gone out.  He’s on a ‘ride-out&rsquo… Read full post »

MARCH 27, 2011 10:50AM

Solstice Styx and Stones

Sexed-up 'n' clued-in

the ol' bait 'n' switch

the ol' grab 'n' pinch




 epidermal wrapping


late Sunday solstice morning 

sweet springtime air

sealed within its healing







 A debt unto death.


&n… Read full post »

This post has arisen from a belated response to an OS friend who reached out to ask about me.   It was just a short message, not insistent but provocative.   It reminded me that I had once felt I belonged here, that I had made friends here and that I would… Read full post »

SEPTEMBER 13, 2010 5:50PM


Two hours ago she knocked at my door.

Four hours ago she found her daughter dead in bed. 

My husband falls in from the door, 

"It's Kate.  She says Ciara's dead."


My arm continues ironing; 

obviously he is wrong.

I correct him:

"Her mother, you… Read full post »

SEPTEMBER 4, 2010 4:27AM

A Note On Stalking (Saturday repost)

Stalking is a crime.   It is a crime against the person and it is not to be tolerated.    It is not trivial; it is not funny.   It is not confined to celebrities; ordinary people get stalked every day.   It inflicts pain: psychological, financial, relational an… Read full post »

AUGUST 13, 2010 4:45AM

Making Highland Whoopee

Dublin, Day One:
For three years we've toyed with the idea of touring the coast of Scotland on the motorbike and at last we've booked the hotels and there's petrol in the tank and we're going to do it.   We were packing until two o'clock in the morning and rose at… Read full post »

JUNE 23, 2010 5:51AM

A Song for Dorinda, OS Fox

Good luck tomorrow, Dorinda!   See you back here soon, let's get a picture of you beside Phil's statue on Grafton Street!





Fighting my Way Back -Phil Lynott:


I'm tough, rough, ready and able

To pick myself up form under this table

I got no… Read full post »

Jon Venables and Robert Thompson, when both ten years old, were arrested for the murder of three year old Jamie Bulger in 1993.   Jamie was abducted from a Merseyside shopping centre, taken by the hand and led away while his mother was choosing meat cuts at a butcher's stall.  … Read full post »

Anger is a necessary instinct.  Usually, we forget that and speak of it only as an inconvenience, a problem, a moral failing, a vice.  In actual fact, it is only an emotion.   How we use it, just like any other emotion, determines its beng a vice or a virtue.   For insta… Read full post »

JUNE 3, 2010 9:18AM

Food, Family and For-getting

So, today, I'm having oat bran and fat-free yogurt for breakfast in preparation for a Lenten diet.  Last night I read through the book and checked out recipes and the list of permitted foods.  Yes, I admit, I bought a diet book without reading it.   And why not?  After all,… Read full post »

APRIL 10, 2010 7:34AM

Lethal Attraction

My son came home yesterday grinning guilelessly as he described his friend's girlfriend.   Apparently this paragon Amazon has passed the 'meet my gang' test.   Tagging behind me as I cleared the laundry from the radiators into his innocent arms, he detailed her extraordinary attributes one… Read full post »

Easter had always been yellow for me: yellow bunnies, yellow Cadbury tinfoil wrapping on chocolate egs, yellow filling on Creme Eggs, yellow stripes on Easter Rising lilies and on proudly raised flags above our public buildings on Easter Sunday...  

When my father died, Easter became blac… Read full post »

JANUARY 24, 2010 6:23PM

Not grumbling just moaning

I ache,

knocking back


on the flat of my back.



I creak and

cringe and


my back


each time I turn

I want to weep

I cannot sleep



I eat.


I shall become

Jabba the Hut

 on wheels.


I… Read full post »

JANUARY 16, 2010 3:13PM

A cut before bleeding

"Cut out of me, she was, cut out of me."  Her mother waved a cigarette in vehement punctuation at each use of the word.  "Cut", her mother said.   

"Cunt", she voiced silently.

Telling the same old story to the same rapt audience, her mother's performance continued merciless… Read full post »

When Irish charity Simon appealed for contributions this Christmas, I don't think even their wildest dreams could have expected this...


Charity begins at home!

The charity, Simon, helps homeless street people with accommodation, soup runs, as well as de-toxification and rehab programme… Read full post »

Newly married and still a little apprehensive of my in-laws, I was driving us very carefully though the winding, hilly back-roads of Mayo when I observed a jogger.   

Jogging had become quite the popular pursuit in metropolitan Ireland of the '80's.    Gyms were poppin… Read full post »

NOVEMBER 15, 2009 5:35PM

OS Sucks ... And How!!!


Lately, I've been quite perturbed by the extraordinary level of navel-gazing on Open Salon.    I say 'extraordinary' because, of course, there is always a certain amount of navel-gazing in our posts.   Where would we be, for instance, without the meta-posts by people l… Read full post »

NOVEMBER 8, 2009 9:18AM

Arbeit macht Frei - an Enduring Myth?

Thinker, teacher,

poet, preacher, 


Mother, father,



I am

What I do, not what I say


If I do not do

do I not have a say?


Why is it enough to tell you what I do

For a living?

When… Read full post »

OCTOBER 8, 2009 6:12AM

Party for Ric... Open Invitation!

What goes 'round comes 'round

Earth spinning on love axis

Karmic Banner-man

birthday hat


As many of you know, Ric Tresa has been in considerable pain since his fall on September 20th.    Open Salon seems strange without his regular technical advice, cartoons and comedy and
Read full post »

SEPTEMBER 29, 2009 4:39PM

A Maggie called Julia: UPDATED

I remember one Sunday morning coming down to the kitchen, and she was sitting there beside the Aga.   Julia.   Wretched, bruised, distracted, ragged.  Sitting folded upon herself, away from me, like a skeletal knot in the corner.  She brushed wisps of frizzy, filthy hair… Read full post »