Culture Night: Eric O’ Neill on the streets of the Crescent (Top of O’Connell Street)

Our Georgian City

With fanlights above, and doors of distinction below.

These features of Georgian architecture obvious to those in the know.

With red brick facades, carrying the dust and grime of many a year.

Their golden proportions blinding to the thousands of visitors who stop and stare.

Limestone plinths glimmer in the rain soaked streets,

They hide the arched basements and coal bunkers under ones feet.

With sash windows of wood now numbering but just a few,

Ah sure as the planners say Plastic, sure it will do.

The railings of uniform and boundary, rusting and screaming out for care.

So much knowledge lost, a tapered point ,a cast finial or a forged spear.

The era of the Celtic Tiger grabbed and torn down.

Now we have time to think, to look, to frown!

With Cruises gone, and Arthur’s Quay just another modern disposable block,

Let’s gather our thoughts create an appreciation, of our valuable unique heritage stock.

Champions must step forward, brave enough to voice ,we as a society should care!

It’s a must for the unborn future generations, to ponder, embrace and share.

Conservation and best practice should be understood and become the norm,

Limericks Georgian City the winner, sheltered from neglect, poor vision and planning, which year on year causes more destruction than any storm.

– Eric O’ Neill

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Paul O’Connell on O’Connell Street (Outside Augustinian Church)

I know what you’re thinking when you’re looking at me

I see it in your eyes and I don’t like what I see

But what your seeing is pain and misery

Sorrow & tears and trying to come through adversity

It’s been so long now I forgot the real me

Night after night I’m tossing in my sleep

His telling me in my dreams that he’s coming after me

These demons I’m fighting just won’t let me fucking be

This last year my world is upside down

Like the Jericho Walls when they hit the fucking ground

I don’t know who to trust I think I’m losing my mind

My life’s a dark room, I could swear that I’m blind

I’m nearly 25, not a spark in my life

All I’ve known so far is the struggle and the strife

Will I ever see the day when I’ve kids and a wife?

Thinking to myself YA that would be nice

So what the Fuck did I do with my life?

Now I’m looking back, man, some-things not right

Whatever I reached for was always out of sight

So please god just show me some light

My head wants to die but my heart wants to fight

Tell me Lord will this pain ever cease?

I know I’m fucked up but I don’t want to be deceased.

So guide me through this darkness, let me find inner peace.

 – Paul O’Connell



Elaine Hartigan on O’Connell Street

It’s just a street,
Where strangers and friends meet,
In winter the rain pours down,
11.30 pm on I rarely saw a frown.

Melodies sprinkle through the air,
Taking away all despair,
Couldn’t count the times,
The music transcends our minds.

Its just a street,
On which all cultures meet n greet,
But even in the heat don’t walk up there on bare feet.

Your friendly smile,
Makes people want to stop a while,
A street
That sings with the help of six strings,
gives us all wings.

– Elaine Hartigan