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Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
AND TIME A THIEF

She hugged her books
to her *******.

Her ******* hardening into
her Othello and Algebra.

She watched his mouth
move

alive with words
she heard nothing of

only
her name

"...yadayadaMARY...
...yada yada MARY!"

A bead of sweat
trickled between her *******.

She tried to catch
her breath and

what he was saying but
it only gave her hiccups.

She squirmed
under his gaze

a butterfly
held by a pin

pleasure that was
pain.

"And that was how
I met your Dad!"

She tells this story
only when she's very very

tipsy
crying now

for the girl she was
- then:

the Shakespeare & Maths
pressed to her chest

the world
awaiting her.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
CLOCKLESS

the car's wipers
slosh the world back & forth
back'n'forth

how stupid of me
left my heart out in the pain
my thoughts gone rusty

white noise
on the telly
my fingertips touch the static

"Suicide is painless..." I hum
I tell the waiting room
"I...hope...it is!"

the objects in the room
looks terrified
look on in silence

locked inside
the whisper
( the shout )

this room is clockless
time locked outside
howling to get in

I ...sit...and
crochet on the couch
time looks sheepish

clicking needles
I knit
one moment to the next

there is only this
little moment
left to live in

"Too much time..."I tell myself
"That's the trouble. . ." I tell the room
"Think I'll cut it down to size!" I say to nobody

"Time to be gone..."
I say
in a melodramatic way

I laugh at myself
weep in my private
theatre of heartbreak

my reflection & I
both reaching for
the razor blade

the room
holds its breath
I close my eyes &. . .

this one perfect moment
time rearing up like a wave
that never ever breaks
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
DEATH OF A JAZZ MAN
( for Jazzman John Clarke )

It was as I
expected

there was these
angel chicks

playing on harps
on Cloud 9

other angel dudes
playing trumpets and horns

but man
there was the Big Guy himself

playing a mean baritone
saxophone

like he was Gerry Mulligan
or something

the lyrics were
you know

hard to catch
"...you are the music while the music lasts..."

or something
Eliotish like that

I strode up
to the Big Guy

checking his *******
with a grin

"Man, that's real
solid gone!"

"I shall be made
thy music..."

The Big Guy
smiled...blew

one long long
final note.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
SANCTUARY

this one perfect moment
time rearing up like a wave
that never ever breaks

the train's scream
the dog's bark
chiseled into the silence

dancing to
the bandstand's music
a flock of flags

birds
writing themselves...unwriting themselves
across a page of sky

this moment
flees from time
claims sanctuary in my mind
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
"THE EARTH IS LIKE A CHILD THAT KNOWS POEMS BY HEART"

The night
had stuffed the dark

into every crevice
of the house

and his life
awoke to a big blue sky

holding a crocus
in the palm of its morning.

The world was springing
into being

all around him
as if existence had

changed its mind and
decided to stay.

A solitary oak
reached a gnarled hand

and snatched a cloud
( that happened to be passing by )

out of the air
just like that.

The cloud struggled
to break free.

The oak gave a hearty laugh
and let it go.

The cloud scurried away
fretfully looking over its shoulder.

"So, what kept ya?"
he asked spring.

Spring...just smiled.
Riffing on Rilke's lovely line!


Spring has come back again. The Earth is
like a child that’s got poems by heart;
so many poems, so many verses,
patient toil winning her prizes at last.
Strict, the old teacher. We loved the whiteness
in the old gentleman’s beard, its bright snow.
Now when we ask what the green, what the blue is,
Earth knows the answer, has learned it. She knows.

Earth, you’re on holiday, lucky one: play now!
Play with us children! We’ll try to catch you.
Glad, joyous Earth! The gladdest must win.

Every lesson the old teacher taught her,
all that is printed in roots and laborious
stems: now she sings it! Listen, Earth sings!

Rainer Maria Rilke; translated by Stephen Cohn
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
IN THE BEST TIME HONOURED WAY

And, so
it came to ***

and we both knew
( what was to happen next )

I tremblingly
peeling off a pair of *******

only to be met
with yet...another pair of *******.

Creating a weird sense of déjà vu
you told me you were cold and so

. . .you wore two.

Oh my poor shivering dear
I so...pitied you...your plight

that I
manfully set about

warming you up
in the best time honoured way.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
ARRIVALS & DEPARTURES

( for Bud on his birthday that was never to be )

Never to be
met by you again

at the airport
with a hastily scribbled sign:

"WAITING FOR GOD...
KNOWS WHO!"

Or telling me you were
expecting the Cat in the Hat.

One year a tip-top topper...
...the next a battered bowler.

Always. . .
your smile

my gold coin

your laughter
my treasure.

"Ahhhh Jaysus, Bud...tears?"
cries the ghost of you.

"It's all I get these days!
Dying is so...annoying!"

"Oh, before I go. . !"
the ghost of you smirks

before fading away
into an EXIT sign.

"I love the purple
fedora!"
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