Winners and Runners-up
The Writers’ Adventure for Bloomsday was an event organised by Thomas Gregg and the Ringsend and District Historical Society on Bloomsday past in the CYWMS where people shared their own poems. Thanks to everyone who participated. Below is a small selection of the winners and runners-up.
Winner, adults’ section
Sunday Morning Walks After Mass
(For the Da)
Words & Music by Mick Brady
We used to take a walk, just you and me
Where the two rivers and the canal run out to the sea
The city was always quiet on Sundays way back then
A day of rest for the working men
Across the bridge and down the steps
Weeds in the dried-up grass, boats and old fishing nets
Jinny-Joes blowing across the black dirt track
Flowers growing wild out through every crack
My small hand in your old leather glove,
It looked cracked and worn, but it felt like love
I still remember how it felt after all this time
How proud I was to hold your hand in mine
The canal would shine and sparkle as it tumbled out through the locks
Cranes on tracks through the cobblestones down along the docks
We’d cross the river on the ferry, then we’d come straight back
This was our own little world
After you’d gone, your coat hung in the hall
She kept it there and I’d see it every time I called
I still see it in my mind and it takes me back
To our Sunday morning walks after mass
Chorus
The factories, coal boats on the quays
The Broken Wall, wheat lorries on the streets
The gas works, the dog track and the mills
The Bottle House, the Iron Bridge
The rivers still run and the tides still ebb and flow
But the ships are gone, factories all shut down
Sometimes I walk those streets but now I walk alone
It’s not the same, it doesn’t feel like home
Everything changes but not some things inside
Like memories of you that I keep alive
Sometimes the mirror takes me by surprise
And I think it’s you, looking through my eyes
Maybe someday someone will think of me
And remember the way I used to be
Some small hand in some old leather glove
That looks rough and worn, but feels like love
Chorus
Runner-up, adults’ section
The Grief Manual
By Sophie Gregg
Grief is supposed to come in waves they say
But what if it never comes at all
I feel like since it happened
My body feels numb, and my mind feels raw
But no grief
I haven’t sat up during a sleepless night
With water rolling from my eyes
Haven’t encountered my fight or flight
Cause you know they say that will arise
With grief.
I feel wrong for not feeling the way I imagined it to feel,
I feel like I am betraying her for not being sad,
But this forces me to believe its not real,
Grief is not universal.
It’s not something everybody gets
It’s not like the flu.
I believe I grieved while she was here
She was still breathing yet I had started grieving
I was grieving right up until she took her last breath
And then it stopped
It was like when the clock strikes 12,
The way you felt yesterday is not what you’ll feel like today
It’s different
I can’t force myself to cry
I can’t force myself to feel what society says you should feel when somebody dies
I can’t
I can’t lie to myself
I can’t feel the way society wants me to feel.
I’m stuck between
In the space between fact and fiction
in the grey area
Is there a manual on grief?
Please just tell me how to feel
Because I know I miss you,
I know my heart breaks for you
I know my body aches for you
I know my eyes stay wake for you
But I am numb
I am walking across this tightrope
And I am afraid that if I stumble just once,
I will fall,
I will fall into a state I’ve never experienced,
Grief
But then again, grief is not universal
But if it is and I don’t like it
Can I get a reversal?
Winner, children’s section
Madison Tucker
In Ringsend by the river’s flow, myself, my dreams began to grow, my voice a song, my feet a dance, a world of magic and romance.
My laughter filled the cobbled streets, a melody of youthful beats, I sang in squares, in parks, in halls, my spirit bright, my voice enthralls.
The neighbours cheered me every day, their friendly smiles would light my way, with every note and every twirl, I’d hoped to be Ringsend’s shining pearl.
From sunrise to the evening’s glow, my hard work set the town aglow, I danced through lanes and by the docks, my rhythm echoing the clocks.
The Spar cashiers and all pub folk, would pause to hear the words I spoke, my songs would weave a tale so sweet, of Ringsend life, a perfect beat.
Opportunities began to bloom, my voice dispelling any gloom, invitations from near and far, I became a rising star.
But no matter where my path would bend, my heart remained in dear Ringsend. With every stage and every light, I’d think of home, my heart’s delight.
The friendly faces, warm and kind, were always in my heart and mind, their love and cheers my guiding star, no matter how hard or tough or long or far.
In Ringsend, by the river’s flow, a girl with dreams continues to grow, my song a gift, my dance a flight, in Ringsend’s heart, forever bright.
Runner-up, children’s section
Anonymous
Growing up in Ringsend, by the sea, where seagulls soar and boats roam free, in the shadow of the Poolbeg Chimneys tall, a place where memories rise and fall.
Strolling by the Liffey’s gentle flow, past the docklands, where stories grow, in Ringsend’s embrace, the heart finds peace, where the city’s hustle and bustle cease.
Children’s laughter fills the air, playing in the park without a care, the smell of salt and seaweed near, in Ringsend, where time is dear.
Growing up in Ringsend, a gem so bright, where the sun dances on the water’s light, in each street and corner, history weaves, a place where the soul believes.
Joint 3rd place, children’s section
Reagan Tucker
Growing up in Ringsend is a blast.
The community’s kindness will forever last.
From friendly neighbors to helping hands,
lifelong friendships in Ringsend expand.
In this close-knit place, we all belong.
Festivals and laughter, memories strong.
Local shops, bustling streets so grand,
Ringsend’s love and care always at hand.
Cheers to Ringsend, where love never ends.
Childhood adventures, lifelong friends.
A special place in our hearts it will be,
Ringsend, forever cherished, you see.
Joint 3rd place, children’s section
Fletcher Roche
Here is Bernadette’s story.
There were twelve in the family eight girls and two boys and mother and father.
We would have porridge toast or cornflakes for breakfast. We would have our dinner at half past two when we came home from school. Yea you would get hungry at night and you would make yourself toast.
We went to St. Patrick’s School, Ringsend. And before that we went to the old school for about a year. You would get a bottle of milk and a sandwich and on a Wednesday you would get a bun. The teachers seemed very old and they would slap you with a stick if you didn’t do your homework or you were talking. I remember learning how to knit and we did cooking in the cookery kitchen. We did that every Tuesday and you would have to bring in all the ingredients and sometimes we would not have them at home so you would have to buy them and there wasn’t much money at home so your ma would have to borrow it.
Sir Patrick Dun’s Grand Canal Street yea we used to go there a lot if you wanted a bandage you would go there and say you hurt your leg or something there would never be that much of a queue. A lot of the kids would get measles and a lot of sickness from overcrowding.
My da was a docker and my ma worked in Holies St. Hospital plus other cleaning jobs. When I turned fifteen, I left school and got a factory job.
You had a bath and if you wanted hot water you would have to light your coal on fire. A few neighbours would share the one washing machine. With a coal fire and logs you had a gas meter and you had to put a shilling in so you could cook on the gas cooker.
Yea we all had jobs in the house to clean different rooms. If your ma had money, she would give you something but not every week. We used to go to the shops for people and they would give you something. Mostly every Friday you would get chips and a burger from the chipper as a treat.
No, we hadn’t got a car I remember only two people in the flats had a car.
Yea we went to Butlins. When I was 19, I went to Spain first time on a plane. We borrowed money and paid it back weekly with high interest.
