‘Tea at Old Price’ – Jack Ormston and Paul Quast
Tag: street
Finished!!! Some Photos of the Installation
Overview and individual window shots. Photos Paul Quast and Lotte Bender
Jennifer M. on Mulgrave Street (outside St. Joseph’s Hospital)
I try to see you with my eyes closed Every day I was doing my best, Moving you out of my brain. Dreaming about all the things we had, Illusions, for me it was the same. I know you had no body. But for me you were so good. Deep inside me. You gave…
Brendan Hayes on Mulgrave Street
Mulgrave Street: A Drinking Song It starts at the Horse and Hound, And ends at the Cemetery, In between, There is the mental home, The jail and Jerry O’D’s. – Brendan Hayes Photographs by Natalie Woociker:
John W. Sexton on Upper Mallow Street
Sky Pouring . to everything of night / badger follows the white path of his face briefly the butterfly a kite on the spider’s steps out-running cloud shadows / sky pouring from the horse’s mane my window holds off night / the bronze eyes of a moth cerise fluctuates green the neck of the pecking…
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…
Lucey Bowen outside the Old Town Hall Building – Rutland Street
The Old Town Council Building Remember: democracy is like these walls, it harkens back to Greece and Rome. Remember: politics is people discussing how their society should be governed. Remember: gather in coffee shops, read newspapers, argue. Remember: to be a citizen in the city is to walk its streets. – Lucey Bowen Lucey…
Sheila Fitzpatrick O’Donnell on Clancy Strand by the Treaty Stone
Gabriel Slouched upon the footpath He hugged, A brown paper bag, Between swigs of tawny wine Voluptuous lips ranted. A mind-full of intelligence Peered through Water-filled eyes And weather beaten face. Each crease weighed a ton. On those lousy grey winter days Fierce winds charged with a rush From Thomond bridge Silently,…
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…