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Donall Dempsey Dec 2018
TIME MACHINE

Step into the time machine
of a dream

feel the seconds flow
one into the other

until odd as it seems
time is abolished

and out of your absence I
conjure your presence.

Death cannot
enter

here
your living

breathing self
this the moment

when you
were mine

untouched by death
or time.

I wake to
the nothingness

of you
gone

the birds singing
a new day

into being.
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018
WORLD WITHOUT FOOTFALL

The stairs sleep
in the moonlight

(haunted by shadows
& the ghost of shadows) .

They go neither
up...nor...down.

The stairs dream of stillness

of being
perfectly still

in a world without
...footfall.

And yet: my footsteps
awaken it

and it is compelled
to resume being a stairs

taking me up
to an attic window

with a broken latch
twisted shut with twine
& a tangled clothes hanger

where a moon
floats across its pane

as if drowned
& I

cry

at the absence
of you.
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018
THE TELLING OF TALES TO TILLY

She gathers up
all the once upon a times

weaves them together
in her mind

a daisy chain
of long long agos.

I tell her tales
with eyes closed.

She listens
with eyes shut.

Both blind
to the moment

listening intently
only to the then

words turning into
worlds.
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018
A BIRD SOMEWHERE SINGS

He smiled.
Death smiled too.

Took a tiny sip of water.
As did Death.

Death now
mimicking his every movement.

Shadowing him.
Becoming him.

....in time.

Death stared
out of the mirror.

But the man didn't
recognise

that this was
his death.

He had only 2 minutes
left to live.

The man went on doing
some insignificant

ordinary things.

D.I.Y.
finally getting around to it.

Death copying the least
gesture

like a comedy duo
in a vaudeville act.

Each little tic
exact.

Like Groucho.
Like Harpo.

Death lying on the floor.
Adopting the same posture.

Arms flung out.
Eyes staring up

...into the nothing.

The radio keeps on
talking.

The phone
rings.

A bird
somewhere sings.
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018
WORLD IS SUDDENER THAN WE FANCY IT

The world presents itself
outside the staff room door

as if it were a frightened child
told to report to the head.

It is a picture postcard scene.

There is more snow
than anyone could know
...what to do with.

Mistletoe &  holly frolic
...an obligatory robin bobs along.

Teachers...broke...smoke
...joke on their break

clasp strong steaming cups of tea
in their fingerless mittens
(more for comfort and warmth) .

Someone shrieks: “Oh! For god’s sake...give us a break! ”

Someone else has to “go to the loo or...” – they’ll burst!

We are not as the pupils imagine us as.

The heating’s gone again.

We watch each other’s breath
chatting...talking
you know
with any luck they’ll close
us and send us and the kids home!

Everyone silently prays: “Oh...please! ”

There is a knock on the door
that nobody pays attention to
...until they have to.

Outside...
in the amazing Dickensian Christmas scene
a little girl
dressed only in a vest and nothing else
shivers and taps once again.

Dazed – we let her in
hear our amazed voices
enquiring: “My God...where have you been...what are you doing? ”

Someone removes their jacket...puts it around her...she is lost in it.

She shivers still and tells us
she wants her big brother
(the only protection she knows) .

He is only one year older than her
...just started big school.

A shocked middle class voice asks:

“But where’s your Mummy? ”

The little girl...belligerent
and at war with the world

informs us that Mummy
was busy...******* a man

And put her outside in the snow
until the man had gone.

Outside snow continues to fall
oblivious to what any of us... think.

We present ourselves to this child
like the frightened adults we are.

Behind her brown eyes
there is more world
than we can even guess at.

How many more years will it be
before Mummy throws her in
...for an extra fiver.

In the room the men come and go.

Next year I will
attempt to teach her Maths
(how things are divided into Fractions)

And she will smile and say:
“Sir...are you having a laugh or what? ”

She won’t want to know.

Now...the snow settles
...covers everything.

The world is so
...pretty.
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018
SHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh!

Like a tree
hiding in a forest

like a leaf
hiding on a tree

like a river
hiding in an ocean

like a wave
hiding in a sea

I see you see
through me

and my carefully
camouflaged love.
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018
FROZEN LAUGHTER

We dashed outside
as the sky was falling.

“Crunch...crunch...crunch! ”
chanted the snow

as our footprints
chatted to it

in a bold red
booted voice

and slowly a bird
wrote itself across the sky

with such careful calligraphy

& our laughter
froze

right in front of our noses.
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