AILSA CHANG, HOST:
Each week, a guest draws a card from NPR's Wild Card deck and answers a big question about their life. Pádraig Ó Tuama's poetry examines faith and sexuality. His new collection is called "Love Between Men." Ó Tuama talked to Wild Card host Rachel Martin.
(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR CONTENT)
RACHEL MARTIN: What did you think adulthood would look like as a kid?
PÁDRAIG Ó TUAMA: Oh, I mean, I remember, as a child thinking, I can do whatever I want with my hair when I'm an adult.
MARTIN: (Laughter).
Ó TUAMA: I was so excited.
(LAUGHTER)
Ó TUAMA: My mother used to cut my hair, and she has skills, but that is not one of them. I turned up in school once when I was 14, and my friend went, God Almighty, what happened to you? And I was like, my mother cut my hair. And so...
(LAUGHTER)
Ó TUAMA: Parts of it were too long, and parts of it were stubble. I mean, I suppose, in a certain sense, you could do it now, and somebody would go, wow, what an avant-garde look.
MARTIN: (Laughter).
Ó TUAMA: Yeah.
MARTIN: So what happened? I can't really quite - I mean, your hair looks lovely, but apparently, this is your dream hair that you've gotten to create yourself.
Ó TUAMA: (Laughter) My dream hair - I just stopped combing it. I've got very curly hair, and so, you know, they're loose curls. So - but I think, for me, it was like most children, it was independence.
MARTIN: Yeah.
Ó TUAMA: It was the idea of being able to make a decision and not have to ask permission for it.
MARTIN: So let me ask off of this, were there experiences you had where you could see that independence just over the hill? Was it writing? Did you have hobbies?
Ó TUAMA: Oh, yes, a countdown. Writing was definitely one of them, and poetry was a way where I thought gradually. I mean, I knew around the age of 11 or 12 that I was gay, and I knew I had to keep it secret. The two things came at the same time. It was 1987 in Ireland. So I'd write in all kinds of terrible metaphors, you know, or sometimes code that I forgot how to decipher. But there was a sense of, I need this.
MARTIN: When did it stop just being the place that you could work out your own sexuality and how you were belonging in your culture? - because it sounds like it was that for a while.
Ó TUAMA: It was, yeah. But it was also expression. And that was part of the joy of it is that poetry was not just for expression of things that were profound secrets. I also would be drawn to poetry in times of deep happiness.
MARTIN: Yeah.
Ó TUAMA: There was a place I used to go to nothing. It's just an estuary where the water would come in and then there was mudflats when it would go out. And I loved that place. I'd go every single day. And one time I was sitting there in a gray November day, and a car drove by. CZ 680 was its registration plate.
MARTIN: Wow, you remembered.
Ó TUAMA: And I - 'cause I wrote a poem about it, and I thought, that car does not know how beautiful this place is. And there was something about the passing nature of the car in that November day and the absolute joy of solitude and being there and knowing, I've come here every day for a few years at that stage, which is a significant part of your life when you're 16...
MARTIN: Yeah.
Ó TUAMA: ...And loving it. And so there was something of flourishing in poetry, as well as an exorcism. Yeah.
MARTIN: Oh, wow. Flourishing and exorcism are two big words.
Ó TUAMA: (Laughter) We all need both.
MARTIN: Yeah, yeah. Right. Right.
CHANG: You can watch Rachel Martin's full conversation with Pádraig Ó Tuama on YouTube by searching for NPR Wild Card. Ó Tuama's new book, "Love Between Men," is out now.
(SOUNDBITE OF AYANNA SONG, "GIRLFRIEND") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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