The following poems have been selected from twelve poets published in The Unfinished Book of Poetry 2025, and are being displayed in Cork City Library’s Poetry in the Parks project during the summer, via installations in Marina Park, Fitzgerald’s Park, Tramore Valley Park, Ballincollig Regional Park, Gerry O’Sullivan Park and the Blarney Sanctuary Walkway. The displays are part of the 2025 Cruinniú na nÓg festival. Audio recordings of the twelve poets reading these poems are also accessible via QR code in the park displays.
(installed at Ballincollig Regional Park)
Loud and Quiet by Gaspar Napora
The room is quiet
and so am I,
the outside world
is too loud.
My land was taken,
all I know is gone,
my only belongings
my mind and my thoughts.
No one understands
me, their language is foreign.
I don’t belong,
we don’t belong.
It’s quiet again
but I am speaking,
there will be change
and I will start it.
(installed at Ballincollig Regional Park)
I am from by Ríain O’Connor
those grassy greens in West Cork,
from the chair by the fire, glistening.
I am from family board games
and movie nights. From Tim and Ted,
the grandads that could fix anything.
I am from summer nights in a field.
I am from Christmas magic and belief,
from a Sunday roast, steak and chips.
From messing with my friends
and working hard. I am from Turner’s Cross
every Friday night. I am from Cork, born and bred.
(installed at Gerry O’Sullivan Park)
The Mysterious Mysteries of a Blobfish by Colum Hogan
Blobfishes come from far deep
In the ocean depths
They don’t really do much
Other than lie and watch other fish
One fish, two fish, three fish they’ll be counting.
Blobfishes don’t know anything about themselves
Can they grow legs? They don’t know.
Can they go into space? They don’t know.
Can they run for president? They really don’t know.
They stand on wet rocks
Thinking about life.
They will never know the truth.
About what they really are.
(installed at Gerry O’Sullivan Park)
Magnifying Innocence by Mikayla Ryan
In the floral garden
the four small feet run.
Crushing the flowers in their path.
The dull sky doesn’t seem to dampen
the mood or quiet the giggles.
The echo of their laughter
coming in the house like a draft.
The muck on their clothes
and the grass on their shoes
magnifying their innocence, old or new.
My Sister by Svea Johansson Aherne
Sisters are like best friends, no doubt,
Always there, through all the ups and downs,
Laughing at jokes that only we get,
Making memories that we won’t forget.
She’s got my back when things get tough,
With her by my side, I can’t get enough,
Late night talks and silly fights,
With her, every moment just feels right.
From inside jokes to shared dreams,
Life’s a blast, or so it seems,
So here’s to my sister, my partner in crime,
Together forever, one day at a time.
Bus Home by Maria Mos
I take the bus home.
I’m surrounded by strangers.
I’m in my own world.
I look out the window,
and see the rain pour down.
Every individual drop illuminated
by the glow of the street lights.
I have my headphones on
with my favourite song on repeat.
I’m going home.
This peace won’t last.
So I sit there,
looking out the window.
Hoping that the bus takes
just five minutes longer.
(installed at Fitzgerald’s Park)
Noise by Orlaith James
Walking on leaves, gravel and
Smooth tarmac,
Breezing in twists and spirals
Of euphoric fortune.
A beat resonates from the river,
Reverberates underfoot.
Step-step; step. Step.
The city operates to the beat.
I walk with it
Guiding me
Like waves at my back.
Push-push; push. Push.
Jangling chained dogs are dodged,
Cracks are overstepped,
Louder thuds,
Languid leisurely folks are overtaken,
Construction cracks and bluntly bangs,
Tyres roll with waves and engines roar.
Noise-noise; noise. Noise.
(installed at Fitzgerald’s Park)
Awake, Tired, Hungry, Asleep by Aurelius Weber-Shevchenko
Awake,
Jumpy Heart.
Feeling Blood Stumble.
Time Passes By Uncontrollably,
You Try To Hold On.
Salt Water Fills Your Sockets.
Cry Til Eyes Wade.
Negligibly Flooding Over—
Sullen Beaches.
Tired.
Hungry.
Already Full.
Half-Realised Reality—
Comforts Your Stomach Pit.
Spend Your Time In Ignorance.
They Will See Light Within,
Ignore The Kinder Words.
Beautiful? Loving? No.
Think… Cry…
Asleep.
(installed at Blarney Sanctuary Walkway)
Mo Bhród by Ruby Ní Drisceoil
Ag breathnú ar mo chol ceathar óg,
agus í ag léim suas ar an luascán,
cosúil le gur dhéan mé nuair a bhí mé óg freisin.
Tá sí ag labhairt is ag labhairt,
faoi pé rud faoin ghrian,
agus í sé mbliana d’aois.
Táim tar éis a bheith ann dá saol go léir,
í ag dul ó leanbh beag bídeach,
isteach ina cailín mór ag tosnú ar scoil.
Níl cliú aici faoin mbród atá agam di,
na mothúcháin a bhraithim agus
í ag déanamh na rudaí céanna liomsa.
An bród atá ag gach duine inár dteaghlach di,
an páiste deireanach, báibín na clainne,
mo bhróidín óg.
(installed at Blarney Sanctuary Walkway)
The New Path of Life by Lena Ní Sheasnáin
It looked like a cluster of clouds
Laying lonely on the pavement
Where the dog would lay
On a cold day.
A treat for the lonely eye.
But to be fair it sent a sense of hope.
A new beginning.
A fresh start.
A newness in the backyard of our life,
So subtle and so white.
The crunch beneath our feet as we follow…..
The New Path of Life.
Let them be heard, leave in the light.
Our old life…. s l i p p i n g.
A New Beginning.
(installed at Tramore Valley Park)
Untitled by Siobhan O’Callaghan
You could take a feathered brush
And wash the skyline with watercolour blue
Amongst the ink paper airplanes
High above nature’s floral ruffles
That serve as bedsheets
For the coarse wet earth beneath.
Standing to attention are great trees towering above us
The kind you peer up to in fear
Alas, no worries
The sun’s embrace redeems these
Into big friendly giants.
Take a look at the finishing touches
Huts built up for humans to enjoy a comfortable existence in this oasis.
Gorgeous gowns that resemble those same bedsheets
Blow gently in the wind
Families flock to bask in this world that surrounds them
Almost as intertwined as the land beneath them.
(installed at Tramore Valley Park)
A Simple Trail by Xiao Long Chalmers
A long, muddy trail that curves
Off into mystery.
A person walks this simple trail,
Discovering their own story.
The trees surround its edges,
Making everything else seem small,
However one breaks free from the crowd,
Standing free and tall.
A small river runs near the path,
But only for a moment.
Its beauty only but a fraction,
Of time’s eternal movement.
Foreword
The 21st edition of this unique anthology, The Unfinished Book of Poetry, has yet again exceeded expectations, replete with 204 pages of rich and surprisingly adept verse, covering a wide range of subject matter which attests to the focus, maturity and foreward-thinkingness of Cork city’s next generation of young writers. It has also been published as an eBook, which is easily searchable online.
The 2025 edition features poems from 51 young writers engaged in transition year, representing five Cork city schools. Since the début edition was published back in 2005, the year Cork city was the European Capital of Culture, over thirty schools have taken part in the project, on multiple occasions.
The consistent quality of poems is in no small part thanks to the industrious tutorship of our five professional assisting writers. Their creative guidance is as crucial for the rounded development of our young writers as it is for the overall success of the course, providing the students with a strong foundation in what can be made possible with poetry.
These poems showcase the growing vision of a very talented and enlightened generation. My heartfelt Congratulations to all of the young writers, from:
• Cork Educate Together Secondary School with poet Róisín Leggett Bohan at the school;
• Terence MacSwiney Community College led by poet David McLoghlin at Hollyhill Library and at the school;
• Ashton School with poet Róisín Kelly at the Cork City Library;
• Coláiste an Phiarsaigh le file Gormfhlaith Ní Shíocháin Ní Bheoláin, i Leabharlann Ghleann Maghair; agus
• Coláiste Éamann Rís led by poet Kerri Sonnenberg at the school.
Our special thanks to all the T.Y. co-ordinators and Cork city library staff.
Delights await you on every page. Enjoy!
Project Curator, April 2025
