Christmas Eve – By Christy Parker

Bated breath, eyes open wide, anticipation wells inside

On the night that culminates past the ‘father of all waits’

Visions of a laden sleigh crossing moonbeams on its way

Induce each hour to tease and test young brittle minds that cannot rest

And who, propelled on shoeless feet, hasten toothpaste across teeth

Lest that wise man knowing why, should see them sleepless and pass by

So scrambled sheets secure and tell the all-seeing eye that all is well

Where palms pressed hard by little fingers authenticate the wait that lingers

Like a song whose chorus when, it finishes starts up again

Is that a noise upon the roof? Could it be a reindeer’s hoof?…

If you’re awake he’ll turn and go, so shut those eyes that he won’t know

But angels gliding by your bed wrap you in sleep and dreams instead

Of morning time that will shed light on the magic of that night

In coloured packages of paper that cannot wait a second later

For young hands that tear in fear that they might somehow disappear

Before the joys so wound and bound inside the packages are found

Meeting friends from far away, home for Christmas, not to stay

Noisy bar in beer-gut scrudge, with precious little scope to budge

Brain engaged in one last push to somehow win that counter rush

Then laden with the liquid force, squeeze back to rejoin the discourse

Now sprouting through intoxication wings of wild imagination

And answering the clarion call of bonhomie and alcohol

Soars you past the stifling clouds of mediocrity and crowds

To the rightful place where you belong: upon the throne of chat and song

An erstwhile Queen amongst your peers in the War of Lending Ears

Your voice is resonant in glory through every charge of joke and story

But the battles not being lost, impose on you that loathsome cost

Of wilting balance, muscles weary, vessels swollen, red eyes bleary

Yet, one more round -make it a double- in this rosy Christmas bubble

Not quite ready to be burst while there remains this ego thirst

Until you cross the beer-strewn floor towards the night and your front door,

Remembering in lurching pause, tonight Mum, you are Santa Claus.

 

“Christmas Eve” taken from  ‘Don’t Step In The Poems’ by Christy Parker available at Alan Prim’s Bookshop, 6 South Main St, Youghal. Co. Cork. Phone: +353 (024)92781

ART AND CULTURE VENUES opened their doors in Youghal last Friday night (Sept. 24th 2010) for Culture Night 2010. Drama, behind-the-scenes tours, and music performances were all part of the fare on offer. The night is one of the highlights of Youghal’s cultural calendar and gave people the opportunity to explore venues and facilities at night and for free!
Photo: Michael Hussey www.youghalonline.com Email: news@youghalonline.com

The majority of events started after 6 o`clock. This was the first year that Youghal took part in the national event which originally began in Dublin’s Temple Bar as a small event and now reaches out all over the island.

Local radio station CRY hosted an open mike night with Tim Smyth, John Kennedy, Tony Sheehan and Jim Coleman broadcasting live from the Mall Arts Centre. Youghal Heritage Centre at the Tourist Office was open 7pm to 10pm.

Pat Lynch at Fox’s Lane Folk Museum talked about the collection and told stories relating to items in the museum which gave a wonderful opportunity to enjoy the unique exhibition of domestic bygones – a fascinating display of some 600 gadgets and appliances used in the home from the 1850s to the1950s

Padrone Restaurant hosted several local writers reading from their works. Sheila Mannix, a runner-up in this year’s Francis MacManus Short Story Competition read a selection of prose and poetry while Jerry Twomey read from his recent poems. Local journalist Christy Parker read a selection of poems from his book ‘Don’t Step on the Poems’ and Tom FitzGerald read excerpts from his historical guide ‘An A to Z of Youghal’. Sheila Loughnan also read a selection of prose. Alan Prim from Prim’s second-hand book shop was MC for the cultural evening.

Claycastle Recording Studios was open late and gave an opportunity for budding musicians to find out how a recording studio works.
Eamonn O’Brien from Gallery 126 was delighted with the large turnout and featured Galway musician Tom Connolly on Mandolin to entertain the crowds who visit his gallery. The gallery was showing some new paintings by Barbara Dempsey and a unique watercolour of Youghal harbour, painted in 1903 by Joseph Poole Addey

St. Mary’s Collegiate Church held performances by Ian Sexton who gave an organ recital at by J.S.Bach, Passacaglia & Fugue while local Harpist Úna Whyte gave a solo performance.

Tom McCarthy from Tynte’s Castle was proudly showing the recently built salmon yawl by Jim Horgan and his team, together with a pictorial history of the project.

Meanwhile Luigi from the Rendezvous Gallic Café hosted local musician Bobby Lee and friends who entertained the audience with a selection of their own songs.

With a fantastic atmosphere and buzz around the town in it’s first year participating in this national cultural event, it can only be bigger and better with more and more venues taking part. Youghalonline covered all of the events on the night and looking forward to next year’s Youghal Culture 2011!

Click on image to start the slideshow of the venues who took part in this year’s Youghal Culture Night. Photos: Michael Hussey www.youghalonline.com

A record number of diverse art and cultural venues have signed up to take part in Youghal Culture Night 2010, which takes place this year on Friday, 24th September.

Youghal Culture Night is one of the major highlights of the town’s cultural calendar and gives locals and visitors alike an opportunity to explore cultural venues and other fascinating private facilities by night, and all for free.A veritable cultural feast of displays and activities will be showcased ‘after dark’ in a record mix of venues.

Among the free events planned for Youghal is a literary evening at the Padrone restaurant on North Main Street. This will feature several local writers reading from their work. Among the writers taking part are Tom FitzGerald reading excerpts from his history guides “An A to Z of Youghal” and “An A to Z of Cork”; Sheila Mannix, a runner-up in this year’s Francis MacManus Short Story Competition, reading a selection of prose and poetry; and Jerry Twomey reading from his recent poetry. The event starts at 8pm, admission is free and all are welcome.

Fox’s Lane Folk Museum will be open from 7pm to 10pm. Pat Lynch will talk about the collection and tell stories relating to items in the museum at 7.30pm, 8.30pm and 9.30pm. Entrance to the museum will be free on the night, providing a wonderful opportunity to enjoy this unique exhibition of domestic bygones.

Gallery 126 will be open from 7pm to 10pm. Pop in and enjoy listening to music by Tom Connolly on mandolin.

The Youghal Heritage Centre at the Tourist Office will be open from 7pm to 10pm. Admission will be free on the night.

Claycastle Recording Studios wil be open from 7pm to 9pm, an opportunity for budding musicians to find out how a recording studio works.

St. Mary’s Collegiate Church will be open from 7pm to 9pm.

Tynte’s Castle will be open from 7pm to 9pm.

Jack O’Patsy Pottery will be open from 7pm to 10pm for a demonstration of pottery techniques.

Community Radio Youghal will broadcast from the Mall Arts Centre during the evening and will host an “open mike” night and will welcome contributions.

Come out and enjoy Youghal Culture Night Friday September 24 2010

NO ENTRY!

NO ENTRY! – by Christy Parker

Factories close, dole queue grows, sometimes you just can’t win

Down in Youghal we’ve seen it all, but we take it on the chin

We’ve pothole craters that alligators would lose their way inside

And derelict sites with things that bite where furry creatures hide.

The hills are steep and grow men weep at Youghal’s post office queue

As it winds its way into next day and the day after that day too

The roads aren’t great and I hate to say it, but the footpaths can lead you to jump

And we’ve seen the breeze bring a man to his knees as it carried the smell from the dump.

We’ve had Raleigh, Cromwell and buskers from hell as merciless persecutors

And worse than others, some Christian Brothers used torture when they were tutors

But never in life has Youghal known strife like the day of the Shock of all Shocks

When we awoke one morning to find without warning they’d closed the diving rocks.

Some bloke we don’t know with a clipboard in tow strolled around the spot

And was allowed to decide as he gazed at the tide what was safe -and what was not

He said someone could slip on the pathway, or trip and land themselves in sick bay

And if the sea got an urge he swore it would surge and sweep the poor bathers away

Amongst further failings the absence of railings made the note-taker quake in his shoes

As he pictured a swagger would conclude with a stagger and a fall to one’s doom -or a bruise.

And then, oh Good Lord!! Look -the diving board!!! It’s way too high at low tide!!

Someone out of their mind might dive only to find their skull and their brain would divide!

His amazing insight would put danger to flight and he called for immediate action

He said, ‘no ifs or buts, these people are nuts to be using this unsafe distraction.

‘There is no time to waste, we must order with haste, some ply board and 22 nails

And tack words of restraint on a coat of white paint, explaining the finer details.’

Up went the construction to cause an obstruction to swimmers intent on a tan

Amidst much denouncing and profane pronouncing from every woman and man

Some say with a laugh, ‘in a century and a half, nobody once came to grief

And the fact that some stranger could fathom such danger is a matter of great disbelief.

‘But if we’re to survive,’ say the swimmers who dive, ‘we have to unearth a solution

We reject out of hand going to the Front Strand on account of water pollution’

Though searching for hope some say that a rope would best of all fit the bill

They could stay where they love with a knot tied above while abseiling the Lighthouse Hill.

Yet there is one place that thrives without trace of the ‘health and safety’ crew

Its private, secluded, clean water included and offers a wonderful view

It has legroom galore and I ask you what more is needed to save the hour?

So let’s have fun restored by taking the board -and climbing the water tower.

Photo: Michael Hussey (YoughalOnline.com)

Clodagh Madden

Youghal Poet Clodagh Madden was a finalist in this year’s Strokestown International Poetry Festival. The poem below was her entry in the political satire section

P.S. Daughter, I Love You
Yet again my darling daughter I must sit down and write
To say well done on yet another TV interview last night
Your dear old dad’s as proud as punch, I knew that you’d go far
Young, beautiful and talented, you really are a star

I can’t begin to tell you how pleased I am with your success
An author in the family, my little poppet, my princess
Celebrity becomes you love, but of course it’s in the blood
You look radiant on the telly, my precious little rosebud

But don’t forget, my little pet, my own part in your fame
It surely helped a little bit, the good old family name
A call to a producer on behalf of my sweet sugarplum
Resulted in the very speedy making of a fillum

I won’t forget how my heart did swell and a little tear I shed
To see you at the premiere, walk along the carpet red
Autographs cameras, reporters, paparazzi, what a whirl
I smiled in the background wanting to shout ‘Hey that’s my baby girl.’

Richard and Judy on Channel Four, RTE and the BBC
Discovered your talent when I let them know that you are related to me
A thousand calls on your behalf was your loving father’s plan
I think you must agree with me that’s how your stardom began

In every book shop huge displays to push my lovely daughter
Make your name, ensure your fame, so don’t you think it’s time you oughta
think of me from time to time and maybe throw a crumb,
I could do with a little help right now to supplement my small income

You’re famous now and it seems to me you’ve changed a lot, you’d rather
forget your roots and the help you got from Read more

by Christy Parker

A bloke that I knew got caught in the act
Interfering with a squad car, was what ’twas in fact.
Interfering in a manner that was virtuously wrong
He said ’twas the blue light on the top turned him on…

To further compound the man’s situation
The alluring white car was parked outside the station
And fifteen moral guardians were fast on the scene
To arrest his attempt to molest their machine.

They frog-marched him inside, then sat down to discuss
How best they would punish his Read more

by Christy Parker

There’s a Castlemartyr traffic jam
Its thirty-five years old
It moves ten metres every year
And sometimes less, I’m told

It’s choc-a-bloc in gridlock shock
It’s time without a space
Kids have grown to angry men
Without seeing another place

There’s buses, lorries, bikes and cars
A horse-and-cart or two
Ten fire brigades can’t fight this Hades
Nor an ambulance get through

The man attired in the car in front
Is in a worried state
He left his Read more