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…
Tag: Socially Engaged Art
Adam Rudden’s Poem outside the city library
Bookmark . River-like Our stories flow anew Along dog-eared pages – Adam Rudden
Christy O’Donnell’s poem on Thomond Bridge
I stood and watched as here they fell, some jumped freely thinking this life was hell, mixed up feelings within their head, lost to the river the floating dead, memories remain with those bereft, all were loved before here they left, on moonlight beams you can hear their song, in death there is no right…
Maire Morrissey-Cummins – Lakeside Dreams (Written in Westfield Park)
Lakeside Dreams . Dusk by the lakeside, Waters gently lap the shore. A breeze weaves through tall reeds, To dance amid soft mountain shadows. . A strawberry moon rises, Behind a copse of Oak, Rolling smoky skies. . In the hush of midnight, Bare branches reach to the stars, Weaving the falling darkness, Into a…
Project Promotion Material
Watch out for posters and leaflets that will soon be appearing around the city. If anybody has any suggestions or feedback as to where they should be placed don’t hesitate to contact us.
Brendan Hayes on Clancy Strand
Brendan Hayes on Clancy Strand . I see the girl dancing by the river leaping the gaps in the wall but talking much too fast How can she make sense of it all . or find the time and space to heal . But here I kneel and pray and hope she’ll feel happiness some…
Brendan Hayes on O’ Callaghan Strand
There’s a stone and its black and green and it lies on the riverbed, With neither eyes to see nor tears that can be shed, Yet the light of a million moons its drank searching for the dead. – Brendan Hayes (18-07-2013) . This is not the end of the the line__________________ | |…
Anne Culhane’s Piece on Thomas Street
Walking down Thomas street and loving the names of the shops ; ‘Watercolours’ ‘Bella Italia’ ‘Medjana’ the names roll off the tongue. I see the brightness of the street. Its wideness makes me look left and right as I try to catch it all. People strolling, children skipping. I hear snippets of chat (‘Fair play…