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Writers Week and The Passing of George Rowley
George Rowley; Civil servant, singer/songwriter, storyteller and author of A Memoir died on April 22nd. Among his many contributions to Writers Week George did MC at The Healing Session, a marathon Open Mic session, in John B. Keane’s for many years.
At the time of writing the programme for Listowel Writers’
Week 2025 has just come out. It looks like the Culture capital of
Ireland will be buzzing like in days of yore: Art exhibitions,
workshops, Book launches, open mic sessions and much more.
You will find the full programme at https://writersweek.ie/events-2025
If you happen to be on this green and misty island from May
28th to June 01st don’t miss it. The first Writers’ Week in Listowel was
in 1971. It has grown and grown for the past fifty four years until
there was a hiccup in 2023. But like all irritating ailments, with the
right treatment, it has been cured.
I have attempted to tell the story of it in rhyme:
THE GOOD SHIP WRITERS’ WEEK.
By Mattie Lennon.
I remember twenty- twenty two
When hope was all around
Then when the year was half way through
For Listowel town I’m bound.
The Healing Session back once more
(Cocooning in the past.)
John B’s was packed right to the door
As Mickey gave a blast.
Of Aldi and of Lidl
And the lovely river Erne.
John Sheahan with his fiddle
Came in to do a turn.
A busty lass dropped in from work,
She’d banish any gloom,
And a woman from the County Cork
Said “Yes” like Molly Bloom.
It looked like things were back on track,
And the country lockdown-free,
With songs and poems and mighty craic,
After years of pent-up glee.
With the last song sung at half past five
Bright future we could see
And vowed if we were all alive
We’d meet in twenty-three.
Through winter’s dark and dismal days
What brightened up the soul?
To battle sad and sombre ways
We looked forward to Listowel
But towards year’s end disquiet bred fears,
With tension all around.
Would a ship afloat for fifty years
Be forced to run aground?
Consultants called; insults were rife
With words like “toxic” used.
Arts Council paid, to twist the knife,
And privilege was abused.
Program, of sorts, was brought out late,
It was of a boiled-shite hue.
Did power corrupt and seal the fate
Of those like me and you?
I called some good attenders
In early twenty three.
And asked of several genders,
“Now kindly tell to me
With the information on the go,
Will we see you in John B’s?”
A few said “Yes” but most said “No”
And some unsure “Maybe's”
When the day came round all things went well,
The air was friction-free.
When Billy hit his small church bell
You’d almost bend the knee.
Another brilliant session down
Just like it’s always been
But we learned from around the town
New brooms don’t all sweep clean.
Then a change of crew for twenty four,
Meant improvement on the cards,
Book launches, drama, talks and more
With returning poets and bards.
And thanks to those who fought the fight
To keep the flame alive
The programme’s out and all looks bright
For twenty -twenty five
©April 2025 Mattie Lennon
See you in July.
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