donall-dempsey
Bio/Comments: / / Dónall Dempsey was born in the Curragh of Kildare, Ireland, and was Ireland’s first Poet in Residence in a secondary school. He has read on Irish radio and appeared in TV programmes there. He moved to London in 1985 and continued to write and perform his poetry there. He is well known for his dynamic delivery when reading, his surreal imagery and his tenderness as a poet in love with the world. / / / Publications: / / Dónall’s poetry has been published in numerous magazines, anthologies and journals, both online and in print. His work has been used by the Overlook Academy (USA) to make teaching videos. In 2013-14 two collections of his poems were published: “Being Dragged Across the Carpet by the Cat” and “The Smell of Purple”, which was launched at the 2014 New Delhi International Poetry Festival. In 2015 his work was translated into Spanish for the anthology “ Vaso de Agua” (ed. Andres Sanchez Robayna)
KISSING THE DOT
Our new black & white
more full of snow than pictures
holding the rabbit's ears just so
(“No...no...no...YES! ! ! ! ! ! !”)
holding it aloft like 9 year old Statue of Liberty
watching with fascination as I DREAM OF JEANIE
emerges
to our chorused 'ooooOOOOO! '
Even turning it off was a thrill
the little white dot dwindling to an infinity
the electric static tingling our lips
as we kissed it goodbye
. . .a pleasurable pain.
Now, after the bus crash
lost in staticky snow
I turn the set
on off onoff
watch the little white dot
die again and again
place my lips
against the fading screen
the electric kiss
of death.
3h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 4:18 PM UTC
DIRECTIONS
I’m heading West
(where ever that is) .
I march off into the distance
of field & sky.
West is where
my uncle is.
I cut through
the heat haze.
My uncle’s dinner
wrapped up in a scarf on the end of a stick
as if I am
running away into forever.
Tea slops in an old milk bottle
with a piece of cloth as a stopper.
I stare into the empty air
as if suddenly I will discover there
a sign saying:
“West – this way! ”
My Auntie Nellie’s instructions
still stamped on the inside of my stupid skull.
“Go west into the field
with your Uncle Michael’s dinner.
“Tell him. . .”
Me too terrified to tell her
I don’t know
where West is?
Typical townie!
I search the farm field by field
‘till I finally find him
sprouting out of a field
with a cloud attached to his head
beside the broken rickety gate
where the tiniest ever wild strawberries grow.
So this is where West is!
Why didn’t she say so in the first place!
This I know!
Why send me like a fool on a child’s errand!
My uncle devours everything ‘cept
the scarf & the stick.
Tells me
(“Oh no! ”)
to go South to where Uncle Seanie is
and. . .
4h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 3:15 PM UTC
SUCH GENTLE VIOLENCE
unseen
a shoal of fishes
turn &...turns again
above them
a moon covers her nakedness
with a passing cloud
the lovers make love
with such a gentle
violence
the waves argue
insistently with the shore
"Shhhh,,,!" says the shore "...shhhh!"
a noise stops
and becomes
a mouse
mouse
stops
gazes into an owl's eyes
its shriek lost
in the faraway barking
of a little brown dog
the lovers at long last
asleep
turn and turn again in the heat
a small breeze
whispers its secrets
to the warm dark
unseen
a shoal of fishes turn &
turn again
7h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 11:40 AM UTC
LAST CAll. . .
So, here we are
separated by Geography
and death.
I overcame the first
but not the second.
I always felt I failed you
by not dying with you.
Forgive me for escaping
your dying...my grief.
Living is now
the harder option.
I talk to your grave
in Newbridge cemetery.
Shoo off crows
perched upon a marble angel.
They caw mockingly
at this human grief.
Soon an aeroplane
will return me to
my abnormal normal life
a world minus you.
"Last call for passenger..."
7h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 11:39 AM UTC
OH WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE
breaking news just in
Rapunzel and Rumpelstiltskin
have fled Fairy Tale Land
having already absconded
from their own
respective stories
Rumpelstiltskin
( real name: Fred )
broke out of Grimm Land High Security
in cahoots with his cohort
well known rapper Rapunzel
( real name: Kayleigh )
in a press statement
they said they valued
their real lives as Fred and Kayleigh
and were looking forward to
what real lifer's term
rumpy-pumpy
Kayleigh sporting her new bob
and Fred in diamond studded platforms
looked nothing like their storied selves
Kayleigh's newest single
was timed to coincide
with their escape from Fairy Tales
an update of that
old Disney classic
"Yo! Someday my prince will come!"
10h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 9:18 AM UTC
THE NOTHIGNESS
I opened up
the nothingness
and there it was
. . .1956
only half way through
its journey
I thought: "Hey
this was a good place
to born in
the world opening up
to me and I
was mad about it
it had sky
and waves
and birds
as such
I just loved it
at first
couldn't get
enough of it
but the years
stripped me of my innocence
and before I knew it
it was time
to go back
into the nothingness
I never could
get along with Time
it was always
bossing my mind around
but would I do it
again given half a chance
you can bet my life
I would
10h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 9:17 AM UTC
A BRIEF HISTORY OF A LITTLE GIRL
she's a mere three
demands to know
"...the history of me..."
well, now I say
that was a long time ago
"...try to remember..." she pleads.
I remember when you
first came out of your shell
hatched into a lovely little girl
you were my duckling
everywhere I went
there you were
I could hear you cry
even before you cried
you made me a good daddy/mummy
your dreams
staining the blue
pillow with golden curls
every night the moon
would come to our window
just to take a peep at you
one day your name
perched upon you
and never flew off again
you were a fairy story
I had never heard before
and wanted to hear more
once when you fell
you hit the road
"Naughty road for falling me!"
"No I never!"
she squeals
"Oh yes you did!" I tickle
"Is there any more of me?"
"Oh loads...loads more
but I too old and tired!"
"Well..!" she tells her dolls
"He tells a good story but
shhh...it's not all true!"
the dolls gasp in disbelief
having drunk down
the dregs of every detail
13h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 6:11 AM UTC
PUTTING THE STARS IN THEIR PLACE
at the end
of the stairs
stars
the house now
with only
three walls
and no roof
only stairs
leading to the stars
memory builds
the house
brick by brick
puts back
all the years
until the house is
as good as new
as it ever was
with a child
looking out
at the first stars
she has been
able to make
into a recognisable
constellation
"Look for the W!"
mother would tell her
Cassiopeia smiles
the moon
standing
at the top of the stairs
16h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 3:11 AM UTC
CENTAUR
( for my Uncle Seanie)
hiding in the hay
me a terrified little boy
& my uncle like a terrified little boy
the voices in his head
telling him to be afraid
of all strangers...changes
he’s been like this
since the day his Dad
(my unknown grandfather) died
my Aunt’s voice
searching for us...
searching us out.
her shouts like bloodhounds
hunting us down
her words angry & cruel
her angry voice
slurring us into:
“DonallSeanie! ”
as if we had fused
into one being
a metamorphosis of us
the hay cooks us
and we swelter
in our hidey hole
achicken sits on top of my uncle’s cap
as if his mind had
materialised into this shape
he rocks
himself
and rocks me
“Shhhh...boy...shhhh! ”
comforting both him & me
“Don’t leave me! ” he clucks
the words scattered
around him
like newly laid eggs
I settle into his silence
my Aunt’s threats freezing us
in this terrible heat
his chest hair
tickles my nose
the cut on my left big toe
throbs through
the open sandal
my uncle cries in fear
I wipe away the tear
with the ***** edge
of my sleeve
we escape to
the West field
me riding his shoulders
transformed into
a legendary creature
that only exists in myths
fleeing from the realness
...of reality
1d ago
Jun 2, 2026 at 1:35 PM UTC
CENTAUR
Hiding in the hay
me a terrified little boy
& my uncle like a terrified little boy
the voices in his head telling him to be afraid
of all strangers...changes.
He’s been like this
since the day his Dad(my unknown grandfather)
died.
My Aunt’s voice
searching for us...searching us out.
Her shouts like bloodhounds
hunting us down
her words angry & cruel.
Her angry voice slurring us into:
“DonallSeanie! ”
as if we had fused into one being
a metamorphosis of us.
The hay cooks us
and we swelter in our hidey hole
A chicken sits on top
of my uncle’s cap
as if his mind had
materialised into this shape.
He rocks himself
and rocks me.
“Shhhh...boy...shhhh! ”
comforting both him & me.
“Don’t leave me! ”
he clucks
the words scattered around him
like newly laid eggs.
I settle into his silence.
My Aunt’s threats freezing us
in this terrible heat.
His chest hair
tickles my nose.
The cut on my left big toe
throbs through the open sandal.
My uncle cries in fear.
I wipe away the tear
with the ***** edge of my sleeve.
We escape to
the West field
me riding his shoulders
transformed into
a legendary creature
that only exists in myths
fleeing from the realness
...of reality.
1d ago
Jun 2, 2026 at 2:45 AM UTC