All of these people
Dear friends,
I visited the 9/11 memorial once. It is terrible and sombre. I walked through it the way I do a graveyard, pausing at the names and dates of people: someone older than me, someone younger. Time does strange things in a graveyard where everyone has the same date of death.
There’s a book in the memorial that contains the names of all the dead. I had in mind a student I’d met at a university once: he’d been a baby when his father—a firefighter—had gone in to help rescue people from the second tower. From my recollection of the story, his dad went in, brought people out to safety, and then returned, then the second tower fell. I remembered the student’s name, and looked in the memorial book for his dad’s name. Sure enough, there it was, a young man; dead at 31. His son is now approaching the age his father was when he died.
Thirty One. I was already thinking of this student and his dad as the anniversary of 9/11 approached and now it’s another age in people’s minds because of Charlie Kirk, also murdered at thirty one, also leaving children behind who’ll need to learn a story as they grow up. I know exactly what I was doing the day Charlie Kirk was born—it was my 18th birthday. As I approach my 50th, I’m guessing I’m closer to his poor parents’ age than his. I want everyone to live decades and decades, not just a few. I’ve mentioned two 31-year-olds—looking around the world, we could mention many (twelve hundred, sixty five thousand, hundreds of thousands) more: babies to seniors. It is an awful world we live in where some actively participate in the extermination of others.
In 1998, a historic peace agreement was reached between Ireland and Britain. Both Ireland and Britain renounced territorial claims over the contested northern jurisdiction of Ireland, asserting instead that sovereignty of the island of Ireland belongs to the people of Ireland, and not to the passing powers of parliamentary voices. Our Peace Agreement’s lasting legacy is that it recognises that peace is not built on agreement, but rather on a way of living—democratically, amidst deep divisions—with profound disagreements. It proposes parity of esteem between ideologically opposed political viewpoints, provided those viewpoints do not propose or condone threat to any community or persons.
There’s no peace without addressing power, both among legislators and populations. It’s difficult work. There is nothing middle-of-the-road about this: our agreement was built on fundamental human rights, as well as redressing power imbalances and asynchronous policy protections. It was—and remains—hard for historically privileged populations to recognise their complicity; and it is hard for underprivileged populations to bear witness to the complicated legacy of resistance. None of this is easy. Much of it is exhausting, some cumbersome, some challenging, some complicated. People lost—and made—friendships in the name of ceasefires and agreements; the terrible legacy of war. But after so many years of division, oppression, threat and murder—night after night on the news, in friends’ families, at funerals, in police barracks and prisons and woodlands and street corners—the relief of knowing that tensions were addressed with something that built on basic dignity and respect of all was worth it for most.
All of These People by Michael Longley
Who was it who suggested that the opposite of war
Is not so much peace as civilisation? He knew
Our assassinated Catholic greengrocer who died
At Christmas in the arms of our Methodist minister,
And our ice-cream man whose continuing requiem
Is the twenty-one flavours children have by heart.
Our cobbler mends shoes for everybody; our butcher
Blends into his best sausages leeks, garlic, honey;
Our cornershop sells everything from bread to kindling.
Who can bring peace to people who are not civilised?
All of these people, alive or dead, are civilised.From Michael Longley’s Collected Poems (Wake Forest University Press) Used with permission of the poet. Listen to Michael Longley read this poem on the On Being archive.
My question today is to ask how you respond to Michael Longley’s poem. I’d love to know your response to the language of the poem; as well as what it calls for from you, and from those you entrust with power.
Pádraig
Poetry in the World
A list of my events: Online and in the US (Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Rhinebeck, NY; Swarthmore, PA; Atlanta, GA; Cleveland, OH; Portland, OR; North Kingstown, RI; Chicago, IL; Stockbridge, MA; Notre Dame, IN) and the UK (Iona, Scotland)
September 14, Online
My good friend Marie Howe and I will be discussing poetry and prayer through the Fine Arts Work Center at 4 p.m. ET. There’s tiered pricing to attend this online event; you can reserve your spot here.
September 15, Manhattan, New York
Emily Kasriel and I will be leading an in-person interactive workshop on Deep Listening. The event is free, but you must register in advance here.
September 21, Brooklyn, New York
Come find me at the Brooklyn Book Festival in Brooklyn Heights. I’ll be in conversation with Cathy Linh Che, Aracelis Girmay, and Hafizah Augustus Geter on the 21st of September at 12:00 P.M. Event information can be found here.
September 26–28, Rhinebeck, New York, and Online
I am leading a weekend retreat exploring “Strange Stories of the Bible” at Omega Institute. Expect strangeness, swearing, f**ked up stories of families, and literary brilliance. You can join in person or online.
September 30, New York, NY
Join Cyrus Cassels and I for a reading and discussion on the 30th of September at 7:00 P.M. You can buy tickets or find streaming access here.
October 5–December 7, Online
This fall, Blue Flower Arts is hosting a series of digital workshops with a stellar set of writers, including Keetje Kuipers, Safia Elhillo, Chen Chen, Mahogany L. Browne, and Haleh Liza Gafori. All the offerings can be found here.
October 10, Swarthmore, Pennsylvania
I’ll be discussing “Poetry and Openness” with Megan McFayden-Mungall, Isadora Caldas, and Vivian Ojo at the 2025 Annual Conference of the Peace and Justice Studies Association at Swarthmore College. You can purchase tickets for the conference here.
October 12–18, Online
I’ll be participating in the 2025 Collective Trauma Summit beginning the 12th of October. Registration for the digital conference can be found here.
October 15, Manhattan, New York
Join me for a lecture alongside Episcopal Bishop Marianne Budde at St. Thomas Church. You can register for this free event here.
October 18, Atlanta, Georgia
I’m leading a retreat day called “Poetry, Prayer, and Place” at The Cathedral of St. Philip. Learn more about the retreat and register here. Tickets at reduced rates are available.
November 6, Cleveland, Ohio
I’ll be visiting Case Western Reserve University to have a conversation with Michele Tracy Berger. Registration details can be found here.
November 8, Portland, Oregon
Come say hello to me at the Portland Book Festival. For pass information and the complete author lineup, check out the festival’s website.
November 14, North Kingstown, Rhode Island
Together with Sophie Cabot Black, I’ll be reading as part of Spencer Reece’s “14 Gold Street Series” Turn up — it’s free, it’s at 5:30 P.M. ET, and the location is here.
December 5–7, Manhattan, New York
I’m thrilled to be part of the Irish Poetry Festival at the Irish Arts Center in Manhattan; I’ll be doing two events: one paid and one free. Tickets and full details here.
December 11, Chicago, Illinois
I’m honored to be reading alongside E. Ethelbert Miller at the 27th Annual Peace Concert. Learn more about the free event and get a ticket here.
December 19–21, Stockbridge, Massachusetts
I’m leading a retreat called “Poetry of Peace” at Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health. More details and registration here.
February 26–March 1, Kingston, NY
I’ll be holding a retreat workshop, “Poems of Longing,” beginning on the 26th of February. For booking information and more about the program, visit the Hutton Brickyards website.
April 23, Notre Dame, Indiana
I’ll be giving the keynote for a symposium at the Raclin Murphy Museum of Art. Event details here.
June 27–July 3, 2026, Iona, Scotland
Krista and I will be leading a week of conversation (with some musical guests) on Iona, an island off an island off the west coast of Scotland. The Saint Columba hotel will be releasing information about it soon; sign up to that list here.
Michael Longley’s poem speaks of ordinary folks — a Catholic green-grocer, a Methodist minister, an ice cream man, a cobbler, a butcher. Each one trying to make their way in the world. Respectful and courteous exchange appears to be necessary if people are to live together is some kind of harmony: “our cobbler mends shoes for EVERYBODY”. Oh yes, “the twenty-one flavors children have by heart” speaks to me about the variety of perspectives, tastes, personalities, beliefs of people in our society. But “all of these people, alive or dead, are civilized.” For me, I must move beyond civility to reverence. I must move beyond tolerance to curiosity, understanding, and compassion. I must connect and work with those who seek justice with love.
I love the image of community - as well as holes in the community created by violence - evoked by Michael Longley's poem. Last night, I had the opportunity to volunteer at a gala for my city's Refugee Support Services - the colorful sari, hijab & African prints a celebration of the rich diversity of our community -despite ICE raids and other anti-immigrant rhetoric. There were three speakers - one from Afghanistan & two from Ukraine - who told their journeys from their beautiful, broken homelands (often broken in part with American complicity) - ending their speeches with gratitude for the welcome they'd received in our community and the phrase: I am a refugee. I am your neighbor. May we continue to be neighbors despite the diabolical powers which seek to drive us apart.