The Cowboy Of The Western World He rides the range at Thomond Bridge tracking trampled hooves smeared by heavy plod of wellies ragged tyre threads Branded on rim of Stenson’s brim random ropes of yahoos and sneers bounce off a tarnished silver star a pitchfork’s rusted spears Lassoed on saddle bags a…
Tag: Socially Engaged Art
Tim Cunningham outside No. 2 St. Johns Square
Mrs. Kirby A protestant lived in our house. We rented the place downstairs, She had a room on top. I knew she was different Because people said she was a protestant As if she has measles Or came from the North Pole. Once when we giggled in church, The woman behind said That…
Brendan Hayes on Mulgrave Street outside St. Joseph’s Hospital
This is not the writing on the wall. This is not the writing on the wall. This was not the predicted end. – Brendan Hayes Photographs by Natalie Woociker:
Lotte Bender on Old Clare Street
A place where once desire lines, Lay, traced across the grass. . Now our thoughts are hidden, Beneath concrete, gone are our tracks. – Lotte Bender
Tim Cunningham on Mathew Bridge
The Singers and the Dancers (You shall have singing and dancing enough.’ – Sheriff Francis Lloyd, Limerick, 1798) Another summer morning on Mathew Bridge, Another thrush trilling her repertoire And the same sun dancing on the Shannon As it surges towards the sea. A different tune those centuries ago When singing was…
Rita Ryan on Pery Square
The Sinking Church in Pery Square Curiosity got us going,A bunch of seven year olds,So very bold,To the sound of ‘into a Protestant church you must not go’,Echoing in our ears, It didn’t help to dispel our fears. Down Pery Square we went,Brave as could be, Maybe old nick the Devil to see. Nervously giggling in we…
Neil McCarthy on Catherine Street
Excerpt from ‘Mouth of a Basking Shark’ . Conversation has long been a dying art, patrons of the cafe glued to laptops, propped up like headstones in a forgotten cemetery, rigid in their reluctance to talk. – Neil McCarthy http://www.neilmccarthypoetry.com/ Photographs taken by Natalie Woociker:
Eric O’Neill on Robert Street
A mighty smith did forge nearby, The work was hot and heavy, I say with a sigh. Smiths toiled in the darkness of a smoke filled place, The above bronze plaque leaves, its only trace. Now its time to remember the trades of old, Their work is all around us,it needs respect, and its story…
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…
Clare Dollard – Outside the G.P.O. – Lower Cecil Street
G. P. O. . Greatly Pissed Off queueing Seeking service- express. The parcel is not for you, And there’s no forwarding address. . Greeted Politely On entry. Your query, dealt with – quick. ‘It’s a self adhesive stamp,’ says the clerk As your tongue protrudes, to lick. . Greying Pensioners Orbit Around tassled green ropes as they wait For the meagre…