By Angela, age 10, Dublin
Tag: Writing
I woke up again
By Chris, age 14, Dublin I woke up again, different again. The house is empty, a small blessing, but it means I live alone, only the various comics, books, and oh right, the notebook I’m writing in right now, are strewn about like crumbs telling me who I’m meant to be this time. In here… Continue reading I woke up again
Eye of the Beholder
By Katelyn, age 17, Minnesota The painting wasn’t under a spotlight. In fact, it was towards the back of the museum, overshadowed by the clearer-cut artworks where people could explain exactly what was happening and feel cultured. But nonetheless, the oft-ignored Shapeshifter by Diana Copperwhite had caught the eye of two twenty-somethings who had inexplicably… Continue reading Eye of the Beholder
A Splatter of Paint
By Lucy, age 11, Luxembourg A splatter of paint sunlight, and it was telling me something. The clash of colours might have seemed unflattering to another being, but the painting stood out from the others. The colours shone perfectly messy for me. It was a modern art piece, abstract. Streaks of rainbow covered the canvas,… Continue reading A Splatter of Paint
The Old Cycle of Living
By Matvii, age 16, Dublin This is a day of truly different emotions and different thoughts…What you see is an ordinary teenager’s room in the morning, vibrant, dynamic, with refracted light from stained glass, and wallpaper with striking vertical bands of colour, but with a window on the bottom left corner showing shadows or silhouettes… Continue reading The Old Cycle of Living
Nostos
By Raonall, age 13, Dublin 6am. MMT.* He awoke wondering “why me”? He was always alone, never with anyone else. Leaving the shelter again, he began to wander the rocky Martian surface. The landscape was always the same; blood orange rocks, ice capped mountains. Heavy-hearted, he meandered as he reflected. As a child, there were… Continue reading Nostos
When I met You: The End
By Shirine, age 14, Dublin It’s theorized that after the human body dies, the brain is still active for 7 minutes. Scientists don’t know if it’s for memories, or a dream or something. My eyes shot open, I looked around in awe, there was a mix of colours around me. I heard the faint sound… Continue reading When I met You: The End
B.S. is my Name
By Ysandre, age 13, Waterford ‘Ah, fellas I’ve just stolen something Come and have a look From an unsuspecting girl Nose buried in a book.’ B.S. is my name But I ain’t takin’ none of that I’ve just nicked me a wallet So nobody’ll call me a doormat. Jaysus, I’m class Top fella of the… Continue reading B.S. is my Name
Sarjena
By Caterina, age 11, Cork Sarjena sat on the art gallery bench as her mum drew sketches of the paintings. Sometimes Sarjena hated her name and sometimes she loved it. Her parents had chosen it because they were both artists, their paintings scattered across art galleries as far as Australia and Rome and all sorts… Continue reading Sarjena
Bloomsday 2025 Finalists
We are delighted to share the names, ages and locations of our 10 Bloomsday competition finalists! Although we will select an overall winner, all finalists will be published on our website after Bloomsday and will be invited to our awards event in the beautiful Marsh’s Library in early September. Well done to all. We had… Continue reading Bloomsday 2025 Finalists