Category Archives: Sandymount Strand

The Write Men

Behind the curtain, he moves like a swan

The crowd is silent, all chitchat gone

Everything is ready

Sam’s rock steady

Lights, camera, action ‘Right, I’ll go on’

In memory of Samuel Beckett, born 13 April 1906

Samuel Beckett


Closer now, to that further shore

The wind is up, blowing hard once more

Sea spray does caress

A magical largesse

Feeding mind and body, deep to the core

In memory of Seamus Heaney, born 13 April 1939

Seamus Heaney

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Filed under Art, Dublin, History, Ireland, poetry, Sandymount Strand, trinity college

Seashell on the Seashore

Seashell, seashell on the seashore

Just the one, I was looking for

The sand I clear

Now I can hear

The tumbling sea, and endless roar

Seashell on the Seashore

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Filed under Art, coronavirus, covid-19, Dublin, Ireland, Sandymount Strand

Keep on Running

H igh on energy, a few K I ran

A fter isolating, I’ll do what I can

P ast snappers and walkers

P ram-rocking talkers

Y es, I’m smiling, as I work on my plan

Keep on Running…

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Filed under Art, coronavirus, covid-19, Dublin, Ireland, poetry, Sandymount Strand, vaccine

Bloomsday Places

Sandycove’s Martello, is where it all began

For Mulligan and Dedalus, your only man

Then a walk on the beach

Eternity within reach

On Sandymount Strand, as the bubblin’ tide ran

James Joyce Museum, Martello Tower, Sandycove

James Joyce Museum, Martello Tower, Sandycove

Inside Sweny’s Chemist, where aromas did linger

Bloom buys lemon soap, for Molly a singer

He breathes in the smell

Ooh, he feels so well

Soon striding along, a cane on his finger

Sweny Chemist, Lincoln Place

Sweny Chemist, Lincoln Place

Into Davy Byrnes, nice bar and moral pub

A glass of Burgundy, and some lovely grub

The talk is loud

It’s a busy crowd

Yes, the place to be, in the heart of old Dub

'Sweet lemony wax'

‘Sweet lemony wax’

On a sunlit Howth Head, they did caress

Bloom and Molly, in her fine new dress

Then a stroll on the pier

Fancy a drink, my dear?

To a gin and tonic, I must say YES!

Howth Harbour with Ireland's Eye beyond

Howth Harbour with Ireland’s Eye beyond

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Filed under Art, Dublin, Ireland, Sandymount Strand


The strand is empty, on my own

Tide’s going out, just bubbling foam

Gulls dive and swoop

They screech and whoop

Lost in thought, I continue to roam


The salty air, is sharp and clear

A gentle breeze, brings smiling cheer

Crushing shells clickety, clack

Onwards now, no going back

Twin Towers at Poolbeg, getting near


Rising sunlight, a stunning surprise

Feast for heart, and my gazing eyes

I love being here

Any time of year

Always, forever how my spirits do rise


Don Cameron 2020

Twin Towers at Poolbeg Power Station

Twin Towers at Poolbeg Power Station

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WB Yeats – Happy Birthday

William Butler Yeats was born on 13th June 1865 in 5, Sandymount Avenue, south Dublin, the eldest of four children. Ireland’s greatest poet was one of the founders of the Abbey Theatre, a leading member of the Irish Literary Revival, a Senator in the new Irish Free State and the winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923.  (I will arise is dedicated to the great man.)


I will arise


I will arise and go now, to the big shop

A place long-closed and almost forgotten

After such strange effort, my goodies I drop

Please don’t break, the eggs I’ve just gotten


It was fun being there, the place was right stuffed

Crowds gathered for ages, talking bargains galore

Anticipation finally over, we pushed and huffed

So much dizzy excitement, never once a chore


I will arise and go now, be sure to make it count

The place looking lovely, under a cloudless sky

The haggling was tough, but I got a dis-count

After such a busy day, time for bye-bye!


Don Cameron 2020


Bust of WB Yeats in Sandymount Green, Dublin

Bust of WB Yeats in Sandymount Green, Dublin


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Filed under Art, Dublin, History, Ireland, poetry, Sandymount Strand

Sunday Poem – No. 1 ‘The Struggle’

I shall compare thee to a pain in the head
Killing silently, softly, be it day or night
You’re everywhere, filling the world with dread
So small and lethal, hiding in plain sight

It’s life and death, as we struggle to move
Taking great strain for us just to be
Chemists and scientists at work to prove
Your days are numbered, soon you’ll see

The spirit is strong and wanting to stay
So much trouble now making it fierce
The sunlight is rising and coming your way
When we will finally, your web to pierce

We will overcome the dark and fatal sting
Beating you the pest and comfort bring

Don Cameron 2020


Into the light...

Into the light…


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Filed under Art, coronavirus, covid-19, Dublin, History, hospital, Ireland, poetry, Sandymount Strand

Limerick-a-Day: No. 10

A little piece, written in strange times


You may be anxious, but you’re not out
Feeling nervous, there’s no doubt
We all can alter
Let’s not falter
And this deadly menace, we will clout


Don Cameron 2020

Together we can....

Together we can….



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Filed under coronavirus, covid-19, Dublin, History, hospital, Ireland, Sandymount Strand

Joyce and Stream of Consciousness – kind of!


Sandymount Strand

Sandymount Strand

Arguing with the guy you know who can beat you – I had never thought of it like that before but it makes sense, especially now as I am walking on Sandymount Strand with nobody within two hundred yards, and I can hear words go back and forth inside my head as the argument carries on. And I am nervous because I feel that I might just lose. How crazy is that? Very, I thought, and I wondered which one of those arguing had responded. I stopped, looked around making sure that I was still out of earshot of any beach walkers, and said ‘What’s going?’ There was a long silence and I heard nothing as both voices seemed to have, well, lost their…you know. It was a weird moment and I remembered that James Joyce, a keen stroller and habitué of the strand where I now stood, was fond of using stream of consciousness in his writing, a literary device that awakened the world to its subtleties in his most famous work Ulysses, a book that is considered a difficult read by many who pick it up and one of the greatest ever written by countless others. That such a difference of opinion should exist is partially a response to Joyce’s idiosyncratic style with his referencing of mythological and historical characters; differing chapter layouts where various rhythms reflect the story being told at that point and his use of the stream of consciousness technique that permitted the reader to be ‘inside the character’s head’ and in the story like never before. This was a new and radical approach that did not win favour at first, except with a small number who saw the liberating aspect that he had revealed. Being ‘inside the character’s head’ was not only interesting and revelatory but, as many readers found out to their surprise, an uncomfortable place to be, as much for its unexpectedness as its lack of familiarity, and the not-knowingness of what was coming a step too close to a reality they thought they had left behind, if only for a little while.

Joyce's magnum opus

Ulysses – book for thought

Yes, Jimmy, my man, you have managed deliberately, of course, to ‘get under the skin’ and show normal life in all its simple and twisted moments; a life that happens more surprisingly that we ever imagined; where what we see is not always what we think it is and where the opposite is equally true, and where stream of consciousness, although a wonderful addition to the writer’s quiver of literary techniques is above all, to put it simply and something that I suspect Jimmy recognised because he was such a sharp observer, about thinking people thinking as they move through the day, as they have since the dawn of time.

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Filed under Art, Dublin, Ireland, James Joyce, Sandymount Strand