Spoken recitation of an excerpt from the fouth chapter of my novel 'A Land Without Wolves', which was published in Ootber 2021 by Temple Dark Books (https://www.templedarkbooks.com/). 

The music accompanying the piece was composed and performed by uillean piper and multi-instrumentalist Brian O' Brien.

A Land Without Wolves (Reading with Music)

Poem written about my great-grandfather's involvement in WW1, here read live onstage at the Patriot's Inn in Kilmainham,  in early May 2014

Recruit (live At The Patriot's Inn)

A poem about Dublin after dark, featuring Paul Wade on piano, John Walsh on trumpet and Jim Tate on bass.

Colossi

Featuring the Waterboys' Steve Wickham on violin, this is a tribute to one of Ireland's greatest polar explorers.

Tom Crean

Featuring an original composition by Kevin Wade, keyboardist from Irish folk-rock band Screefy, this track addresses the state celebrations of the 1916 Rising which took place in Dublin in April of 2016, midway through what is known in Ireland as the 'Decade of Centenaries'.

Centenary

Recruit
i.m. William Kelleher, died 1967, Veteran of the Somme
i.m. Patrick Dunne, died June 30th 1916, 5th battalion, Royal Dublin Fusiliers 

Here are the hallmarks you try to disown: 
Each confirmed kill, your raw prize 
And dried blood, a civilian’s powdery bone.
Your soldier’s stride slack in the glare,  
The service rifle propped on your shoulder.
 
You want a shoulder to cry on. 
I have two shoulders. 

You’re still a boy, draped in a man’s disguise. 
Reeling off your sham spleen, waving a torch 
From the scarred parapet, marching where you’re
Told to march. But you don’t yield or adjust 
To a ceiling of sandbags, or a floor of body lice.
Your choler leaks from a blackened cast.

You want a shoulder to cry on. 
I have two shoulders. 

Blood-sodden bandages grow for you to scorch. 
A Celtic cross unveils darkness for the brigade.
The sergeant major starts smoking: 
“The best cancer is one that infects slowly.” 
He exhales and sweats in a heat-wave’s prism,  
But carnage won’t make him a martyr, or even holy, 
And it won’t graft him in a licit heroism. 

You want a shoulder to cry on. 
I have two shoulders. 
 
The Islandbridge memorial, gritted by rainfall 
And infamy, excludes your name.
Your rifle lost its voice, as you lost your fortitude.     
You were a war hero, pocked with shame. 
Mustard gas was the dreg of every battle, 
Grinding your lungs for the next five decades.
Your ammunition pouch thinned down, shellshock
Leapt from your throat in deathly coughs.

You want a shoulder to cry on.
I have two shoulders. 
   
How to remember you, a dead man I never met?
As a Royal Dublin Fusilier, 10th Brigade, 4th Division,
With an ammunition pouch, gas mask and helmet?  
Or as an expert gardener, planting apple trees,    
Living your final years on a British Army pension, 
Believing you were a traitor to everyone?
Did a Victoria Cross decorate your mantelpiece? 
Were you threatened with conscription, 
Or did massacre, and shellfire, enthral you?   
Were you taken in by the emblems of blood?
Did your rifle make you feel like a man,
Standing heroic in in the barbed, war-torn mud?  
Or did you want three square meals, and a wage?
Whatever the reason, I pray your stony fate
Is bloodless, free of bullets, and war’s waste,
As I commemorate you here, a century too late. 
 
You want a shoulder to cry on. 
I have two shoulders.

Recruit

A tribute to the medical staff, firefighters, paramedics, during the Covid-19 pandemic. ‘In a crisis,’ writes the journalist Kenan Malik, ‘a society often reveals both its best aspects and its worst.’ In the early stages of Covid, I wrote a very cynical piece about self-isolation (published here: https://strandspublishers.weebly.com/lit-sphere), and while my cynicism toward many things remains intact, cynicism alone rarely leads to any great resilience or understanding, especially in the circumstances we now as a nation find ourselves in. But seeing the heroic, life-saving work carried out by Ireland’s frontline staff, including doctors, nurses, student nurses, pharmacists, firefighters/paramedics, Defence Forces members, retail workers, aides and volunteers in the face of COVID-19, gives me a hope that tempers any begrudgery I have. Their diligence, dedication and courage in the weeks before and ahead, especially when many face eviction, meagre pay and great personal risk due to being in direct contact with the virus, can never be taken for granted.
Words and vocals by Daniel Wade, music composed and performed by Paul Wade.

Frontliners

As the IRA’s Director of Intelligence, Michael Collins' deployment of flying columns (small, lightly-armed land units specialising in guerrilla tactics) to the republican ranks throughout the Anglo-Irish conflict was deemed an ingenious and game-changing move from the fighting styles of previous Irish uprisings. The most notorious of these divisions was the West Cork Brigade, commanded by Tom Barry. 

A veteran of WWI, Barry saw action at the Siege of Kut and along the Mesopatamian theatre. He joined the republican movement on his return to Ireland, his combat experience proving vital to the Brigade’s activities. On the 28th of November 1920, he led the nighttime ambush of an Auxiliary patrol unit in West Cork, near the townland of Kilmicheal. Attacking from the roadside, up to 17 Auxiliary personnel were shot and killed, while three IRA members also died in the crossfire. Like Barry, many of the casualties were also veterans of the First World War. 

A week earlier, the events of Bloody Sunday in Dublin took place, wherein a combined force of British regulars and Black and Tans opened fire on a crowd attending a Gaelic football match in Croke Park, killing 14 civilians and seriously injuring 80 more. Support for the IRA amongst the public  skyrocketed after this, while the victorious attack at Kilmichael was viewed as a turning point, boosting morale for the republican movement. 

By 1921, the country was engulfed in violence, with ambushes, raids, engagements, shootings, and reprisals between republicans and Crown forces, bolstered by the notorious Black and Tans, being the order of the day. An estimated 1,400 deaths occurred before ceasefire was declared on July 11th, 1921.

Flying Columns - Daniel Wade

Part of a series of boxing poems I'm working on.  

Title Fight

Mosh Pit

Daniel Wade is an Irish poet, playwright and spoken-word performer from Dublin, Ireland. He is a graduate of Dún Laoghaire Institute of Art, Design and Technology, where he studied English and Journalism.

His poetry has been published in journals and anthologies including Optic, Limerick Revival, Wordlegs, The Stony Thursday Book (ed. Paddy Bushe), HeadSpace Magazine, the Seven Towers 2014 Census, Bray Arts Journal, The Sea (charity anthology in aid of the RNLI), Sixteen Magazine, The Bogman's Cannon, Iodine Poetry Journal, Zymbol, HeadStuff, Coast Monkey, FLAR 17, Tales From the Forest, and The Runt. In April 2015 he was the Hennessy New Irish Writing poetry winner, published in The Irish Times. He writes a monthly poetry column for Coast Monkey, entitled 'Poems from the Coast'.

Daniel has been a guest on Dublin South FM's Rhyme and Reason poetry program, and Near FM's Writer's Block. In June 2015, his radio drama, The Outer Darkness, was broadcast on Dublin South FM. 

A prolific performer, Daniel has read his work at festivals including Electric Picnic, Body and Soul, Noeliefest and the West Belfast Festival. 

In January 2017, his sequence of haibun poems 'Iceberg Relief' was published as an e-chapbook by Underground Voices and is available for download (see 'Iceberg Relief' section below).  

In January 2017 his play The Collector will be staged in The New Theatre, Dublin.

Recordings of his work can be heard on Mixcloud and Soundcloud. For professional booking, contact Daniel at danielpwade@gmail.com.

Daniel Wade 8

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