Harry Clifton, Paula Meehan and Michael Longley: to spend even a short time with these three very different poets is to experience a tiny fraction of their love of words and their finely-tuned sense of mischief. Photograph: Dylan Madden

The Ireland Chair of Poetry is a solemn, formal, academic institution. The poets who hold it, however, tend to be anything but. Gather the three mo(...)

Disappear With Me: Alec Soth’s Snapchat images, which vanish from your phone almost as soon as you receive them, have sold out. Photograph: Jenn Ackerman/New York Times

It’s a First World problem that is insignificant in the face of life’s major traumas, but a defining malady among those who have enough is the nagging(...)

Kyoto lidded vase, mark of Namikawa Yasuyuki, circa 1890. Copyright Victoria and Albert Museum, London

Seven Treasures Chester Beatty Library, Dublin Castle *****   Cloisonné is an ancient enamelling technique. As a process, the(...)

Bartholomew Ryan: ‘I see the great poets like Yeats and Wordsworth and Fernando Pessoa as loafing heroes.’ Photograph: Luis Barra

The Loafing Heroes sing the poetry of WB Yeats and TS Eliot, and the subject matter of their songs ranges from Irish revolutionary heroes to the de(...)

Author Alain de Botton (R) makes notes during his week as writer-in-residence at Heathrow Airport, west London, on August 20, 2009.

Internet research has convinced some we can know everything. But away from Google’s spoon dipped into Wikipedia’s stockpot, the idea of the mystery of(...)

Photograph: Thinkstock

Recent poetic interventions on RTÉ Radio 1 to celebrate the One City One Book programme are likely to have intrigued and beguiled listeners. Readers o(...)

Mad Men: the TV series has featured work by the wonderful American poet Frank O’Hara

Is this the consequence of an overly optimistic disposition or is poetry everywhere in recent times? Devotees of B(...)

Colum McCann at Sandymount, Dublin in 2011. New York, however, is where he wants to live now. Photograph: Alan Betson

‘You could write about this fat bastard in Central Park,” Colum McCann laughs down the phone, enthused by the idea (his) of talking about his n(...)