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...AND I WAVE BACK
Donall Dempsey Jun 2023
...AND I WAVE BACK
...AND I WAVE BACK

Outside the hatch
he turns slowly

and talks
but I can't make out
the words he says

they fall from his lips
dangle and float in space

outside the backyard fence
a hill grabs the moon

and then slowly
lets it go again

the moon floating just
out of reach

laughs; 'Go on...do that again! '

the hill smiles: 'Just you wait... just you wait! '
the moon beams
as a little bird

gingerly(as if at first unsure)
steps out into space

and then finds flight
take hold of it as if

it had only discovered it that minute
and absconds with it

the darkness
barks

and falls
into silence

and then another part
of the darkness

barks back

held in a gentleness
a leaf tiptoes down the breeze

as if descending
a spiral staircase.

Time holds its breath

outside the hatch
flat on his back

the earth a little blue ball he has let go of

the astronaut
slowly turns and waves

& I
wave back.
Continue reading...
AND I WAVE BACK
Donall Dempsey Aug 2024
AND I WAVE BACK
AND I WAVE BACK

Outside the hatch
he turns slowly

and talks

but I can't make out
the words he says

they fall from his lips
dangle and float in space

outside the backyard fence
a hill grabs the moon

and then slowly
lets it go again

the moon floating just
out of reach

laughs; 'Go on...do that again! '
the hill smiles: 'Just you wait... just you wait! '

the moon beams
as a little bird

gingerly(as if at first unsure)
steps out into space

and then
finds flight
take hold of it

as if
it had only discovered it that minute

and absconds with
the darkness

barks

and falls
into silence

and then another part
of the darkness

barks back

held
in a gentleness

a leaf tiptoes
down the breeze

as if descending
a spiral staircase

Time holds
its breath

outside
the hatch

flat on his back
the earth a little blue ball he has let go of

the astronaut

slowly turns
and waves

& I
wave back.
Continue reading...
AND I WAVE BACK
Donall Dempsey Aug 2015
AND I WAVE BACK
Outside the hatch
he turns      slowly

and talks

but I can't make out
the words he says

they fall from his lips
dangle and float in space

outside the backyard fence
a hill grabs the moon

and then slowly
lets it go again

the moon floating just
out of reach

laughs; 'Go on...do that again! '
the hill smiles: 'Just you wait... just you wait! '

the moon beams
as a little bird

gingerly(as if at first unsure)  
steps out into space

and then
finds flight

take hold of it
as if

it had only discovered it that minute
and absconds with it

the darkness
barks

and falls
into silence

and then another part
of the darkness

barks back

held
in  a gentleness

a leaf tiptoes
down the breeze

as if descending
a spiral staircase

Time holds
its breath

outside
the hatch

flat on his back
the earth a little blue ball he has let go of

the astronaut
slowly turns

and waves

& I
wave back.
Continue reading...
AND I WAVE BACK
Donall Dempsey Jun 2017
AND I WAVE BACK
AND I WAVE BACK

Outside the hatch
he turns slowly

and talks
but I can't make out
the words he says

they fall from his lips
dangle and float in space

outside the backyard fence
a hill grabs the moon

and then slowly
lets it go again

the moon floating just
out of reach

laughs; 'Go on...do that again! '

the hill smiles: 'Just you wait... just you wait! '
the moon beams
as a little bird

gingerly(as if at first unsure)
steps out into space

and then finds flight
take hold of it as if

it had only discovered it that minute
and absconds with it

the darkness
barks

and falls
into silence

and then another part
of the darkness

barks back

held in a gentleness
a leaf tiptoes down the breeze

as if descending
a spiral staircase.

Time holds its breath

outside the hatch
flat on his back

the earth a little blue ball he has let go of

the astronaut
slowly turns and waves

& I
wave back.
Continue reading...
AND I WAVE BACK
Donall Dempsey Jun 2018
AND I WAVE BACK
AND I WAVE BACK

Outside the hatch
he turns slowly

and talks
but I can't make out
the words he says

they fall from his lips
dangle and float in space

outside the backyard fence
a hill grabs the moon

and then slowly
lets it go again

the moon floating just
out of reach

laughs; 'Go on...do that again! '

the hill smiles: 'Just you wait... just you wait! '
the moon beams
as a little bird

gingerly(as if at first unsure)
steps out into space

and then finds flight
take hold of it as if

it had only discovered it that minute
and absconds with it

the darkness
barks

and falls
into silence

and then another part
of the darkness

barks back

held in a gentleness
a leaf tiptoes down the breeze

as if descending
a spiral staircase.

Time holds its breath

outside the hatch
flat on his back

the earth a little blue ball he has let go of

the astronaut
slowly turns and waves

& I
wave back.
Continue reading...
AND LO! THE POET AWAKENS
Donall Dempsey Apr 2020
AND LO! THE POET AWAKENS
AND LO! THE POET AWAKENS

Come my machine
of bones!

Let us perambulate
around this God-given morning.

Yes...you too
my flesh and blood!

Do you not desire
to accompany me?

And spirit?
If you are willing?

Why not bring
your friend mind?

Oh soul! Surely you
will come for a stroll.

And together
we shall be

this tired old
Donall Dempsey.

This odd contraption
of a human being.

See! Sunlight
welcomes us.

How the roses delight
in seeing us.

And birds race
to tell the sky

that the poet
has come amongst us.

"Ok ok...enough already"
Cut the crap!"

I admonish
the words.

"I'm up!
I'm up!"
Continue reading...
AND LO! THE POET AWAKENS
Donall Dempsey Apr 2024
AND LO! THE POET AWAKENS
AND LO! THE POET AWAKENS

come
my machine
of bones

let us perambulate
around this
God-given morning

yes...you too
my flesh
and blood

do you
not desire
to accompany me

and spirit
If you are
willing

why not bring
your friend
mind

oh soul
surely you
will come for a stroll

and together
we shall be
this tired old

Donall Dempsey
this odd contraption
of a human being

see
Sunlight
welcomes us

how the roses
delight
in seeing us

and birds race to tell the sky
that the poet
has come amongst us

"Ok ok..
enough already
cut the crap!"

I admonish
the words
"I'm up...I'm up!"
Continue reading...
AND NEVER BE FORGOT
Donall Dempsey Oct 2015
AND NEVER BE FORGOT
AND NEVER BE FORGOT

the New Year tiptoes
across the sky
falls in bells and snow

I feel like a door
without a handle
or a handle without.. .

...a dor:
atop a ******* tip
like it's King of the Castle

a door that (opens
into the nowhere  of
time gone by

drunk revelers
bawling out Auld Lang Syne
puke coloured pavements

the furniture wears sheets
like a child's concept of ghosts
their wooden legs stick out underneath

a kiss
all that separates
the 20th from the 21st century
Continue reading...
AND NO BIRDS SING
Donall Dempsey Nov 2023
AND NO BIRDS SING
AND NO BIRDS SING

ahhh little one
the only wrong
you ever done

dying before
you were born
never to know

the blue of a sky
the whisper of a sea
the laughter of one who loves you

I tell you of these things
create a world
for you in words

since it is
all the world
that I can give you

forgive my tears
this is not the way
to greet you

*

This grief...every so often I have to speak of her...speak to her...not let her fade away into a nothingness...to us she was our child...our promise to be. She was our love and our love still holds her. She is part of the warp and weft of us.
Continue reading...
AND NO BIRDS SING
Donall Dempsey Nov 2020
AND NO BIRDS SING
AND NO BIRDS SING

Ahhh little one
the only wrong you ever done

dying before
you were born

never to know

the blue of a sky
the whisper of a sea
the laugher of one who loves you

I tell you of these things
create a world for you in words

since it is all the world
that I can give you.

Forgive my tears
this is not the way to greet you.
Continue reading...
AND NOW THE RELATIONSHIP CRISIS FORECAST ISSUED BY THE SANE SIDE OF YOUR SELF ON BEHALF OF THE MERRY TIME & KEEP YOUR GUARD UP AGENCY.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2019
AND NOW THE RELATIONSHIP CRISIS FORECAST ISSUED BY THE SANE SIDE OF YOUR SELF ON BEHALF OF THE MERRY TIME & KEEP YOUR GUARD UP AGENCY.
AND NOW THE RELATIONSHIP CRISIS FORECAST ISSUED BY THE SANE SIDE OF YOUR SELF  ON BEHALF OF THE MERRY TIME & KEEP YOUR GUARD UP AGENCY.

The general synopsis at mid-life is:

Late 40’s
dogged by blighted love life

new all time low
expected by that time.

new all time low
expected by that time.

***
occasionally very poor at first

becoming
moderate or good.

F**k  all
(hand over fist)  
******.

Marriage 3 or 4
becoming a bore.

Blonde mantrap
34-24-34.

**** Mrs. Fitzroy
(formerly Finisterre)  

affair deepening rapidly
expected imminent.

Getting carried away
hoisted by one’s own petard.

Chances it will work out alright
moderate becoming decreasing slight.

Fair Isle sweater left
carelessly behind in car

Eh...uh uh!
Big mistake.

Violent storm warning
boyfriend built like Viking.

Gulp...not Dover Wight!
Becoming cyclonic
...moronic.

Severe icing.
Oh *****! Despair. Panic. Flight

What more could go wrong?
Chelsea 2 West Ham 1!

Town gossip Lundy Fastnet
informs wife.

Accused of infidelities
backing off into continual lying

veering towards disbelief
clothes thrown out in street.

Locks. Changed.

Caught fast in net
like trashing fish.

Future visibility
moderate becoming poor

in showers.

Drunk. Again.
Singing in the rain.

What’s it all about
...Alfie
AND NOW THE RELATIONSHIP CRISIS FORECAST ISSUED BY THE SANE SIDE OF YOUR SELF ON BEHALF OF THE MERRY TIME & KEEP YOUR GUARD UP AGENCY.

The general synopsis at mid-life is:

Late 40’s
dogged by blighted love life

new all time low
expected by that time.

new all time low
expected by that time.

***
occasionally very poor at first

becoming
moderate or good.

**** all
(hand over fist)
******.

Marriage 3 or 4
becoming a bore.

Blonde mantrap
34-24-34.

**** Mrs. Fitzroy
(formerly Finisterre)

affair deepening rapidly
expected imminent.

Getting carried away
hoisted by one’s own petard.

Chances it will work out alright
moderate becoming decreasing slight.

Fair Isle sweater left
carelessly behind in car

Eh...uh uh!
Big mistake.

Violent storm warning
boyfriend built like Viking.

Gulp...not Dover Wight!
Becoming cyclonic
...moronic.

Severe icing.
Oh *****! Despair. Panic. Flight

What more could go wrong?
Chelsea 2 West Ham 1!

Town gossip Lundy Fastnet
informs wife.

Accused of infidelities
backing off into continual lying

veering towards disbelief
clothes thrown out in street.

Locks. Changed.

Caught fast in net
like trashing fish.

Future visibility
moderate becoming poor

in showers.

Drunk. Again.
Singing in the rain.

What’s it all about
...Alfie

*******

THE SHIPPING FORECAST...

An aural nautical weather map of an imaginary cut-up sea where the naming enters our nation’s consciousness....becomes part of the British psyche through its radio recitation... a litany... a rosary...mantra... a prayer of various here and theres that can only be imagined.

An oral/aural concrete poetry whose art belongs to Dada... an incantation of sounds and places only imagined...well known unique distinctive soundings and their hypnotic reassuringly ritualistic resonant repetition which is held in the greatest affection...mesmerically obscure...soothingly safe...strangely comforting...a litany of waves coming across the airwaves like a lullaby or a wartime coded message or Cocteau’s Orphée trying to decode death on the radio.

As iconic as the tube map with its elegant geometry of twisted coloured lines...it has become part of our mental landscape that our senses seek out as being quintessentially British.

It scans...it’s got rhythm...who could ask for anything more.

Something rich...and strange.

*******

Especially in its bedtime for Britain broadcast with us all drifting off to the strains of Ronald Binge’s SAILING BY(also the writer of ELIZABETHEAN SERENADE) as we sip our coca...lock the back door...put the milk bottles out and try to persuade the cat to come in as the day is put to bed and finally laid to rest at precisely 00: 48

And now the Shipping Forecast issued by the Met Office, on behalf of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency, at 1625 utc on Monday 31 May 2010 for the period 1800 utc Monday 31 May to 1800 utc Tuesday 01 June 2010.

The general synopsis at midday:

It is read out on Radio 4 at 0048,0520,1201 and 1754 (local time) . All broadcasts are on LW on 1515m (198 kHz) and some transmissions are on VHF. It gives a summary of gale warnings in force, a general synopsis and area forecasts for specified sea areas around the UK. The radio bulletin also includes the coastal weather reports (0048 and 0536 only) .

The music played before the Shipping Forecast is 'Sailing By' composed by Ronald Binge.

The mystical marine areas are as follows:

VIKING NORTH UTSIRE SOUTH UTSIRE
FORTIES CROMARTY FORTH
TYNE DOGGER FISHER GERMAN BIGHT
HUMBER THAMES DOVER WIGHT
PORTLAND PLYMOUTH BISCAY TRAFALGAR
FITZROY(FORMERLY FINISTERRE)
SOLE LUNDY FASTNET
IRISH SEA SHANNON ROCKALL MALIN HEBRIDES
BAILEY FAIR ISLE FAEROES
SOUTHEAST ICELANDetry whose art belongs to Dada... an incantation of sounds and places only imagined...well known unique distinctive soundings and their hypnotic reassuringly ritualistic resonant repetition which is held in the greatest affection...mesmerically obscure...soothingly safe...strangely comforting...a litany of waves coming across the airwaves like a lullaby or a wartime coded message or Cocteau’s Orphée trying to decode death on the radio.

As iconic as the tube map with its elegant geometry of twisted coloured lines...it has become part of our mental landscape that our senses seek out as being quintessentially British.

It scans...it’s got rhythm...who could ask for anything more.

Something rich...and strange.

*******

Especially in its bedtime for Britain broadcast with us all drifting off to the strains of Ronald Binge’s SAILING BY(also the writer of ELIZABETHEAN SERENADE) as we sip our coca...lock the back door...put the milk bottles out and try to persuade the cat to come in as the day is put to bed and finally laid to rest at precisely 00: 48

And now the Shipping Forecast issued by the Met Office, on behalf of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency, at 1625 utc on Monday 31 May 2010 for the period 1800 utc Monday 31 May to 1800 utc Tuesday 01 June 2010.

The general synopsis at midday:

It is read out on Radio 4 at 0048,0520,1201 and 1754 (local time) . All broadcasts are on LW on 1515m (198 kHz) and some transmissions are on VHF. It gives a summary of gale warnings in force, a general synopsis and area forecasts for specified sea areas around the UK. The radio bulletin also includes the coastal weather reports (0048 and 0536 only) .

The music played before the Shipping Forecast is 'Sailing By' composed by Ronald Binge.

The mystical marine areas are as follows:

VIKING NORTH UTSIRE SOUTH UTSIRE
FORTIES CROMARTY FORTH
TYNE DOGGER FISHER GERMAN BIGHT
HUMBER THAMES DOVER WIGHT
PORTLAND PLYMOUTH BISCAY TRAFALGAR
FITZROY(FORMERLY FINISTERRE)
SOLE LUNDY FASTNET
IRISH SEA SHANNON ROCKALL MALIN HEBRIDES
BAILEY FAIR ISLE FAEROES
SOUTHEAST ICELAND
Continue reading...
AND NOW THE RELATIONSHIP CRISIS FORECAST ISSUED BY THE SANE SIDE OF YOUR SELF ON BEHALF OF THE MERRY TIME & KEEP YOUR GUARD UP AGENCY.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
AND NOW THE RELATIONSHIP CRISIS FORECAST ISSUED BY THE SANE SIDE OF YOUR SELF ON BEHALF OF THE MERRY TIME & KEEP YOUR GUARD UP AGENCY.
AND NOW THE RELATIONSHIP CRISIS FORECAST ISSUED BY THE SANE SIDE OF YOUR SELF ON BEHALF OF THE MERRY TIME & KEEP YOUR GUARD UP AGENCY.

The general synopsis at mid-life is:

Late 40’s
dogged by blighted love life

new all time low
expected by that time.


new all time low
expected by that time.

***
occasionally very poor at first

becoming
moderate or good.

**** all
(hand over fist)  
******.

Marriage 3 or 4
becoming a bore.

Blonde mantrap
34-24-34.

**** Mrs. Fitzroy
(formerly Finisterre)  

affair deepening rapidly
expected imminent.

Getting carried away
hoisted by one’s own petard.

Chances it will work out alright
moderate becoming decreasing slight.

Fair Isle sweater left
carelessly behind in car

Eh...uh uh!
Big mistake.

Violent storm warning
boyfriend built like Viking.

Gulp...not Dover Wight!
Becoming cyclonic
...moronic.

Severe icing.
Oh *****! Despair. Panic. Flight

What more could go wrong?
Chelsea 2 West Ham 1!

Town gossip Lundy Fastnet
informs wife.

Accused of infidelities
backing off into continual lying

veering towards disbelief
clothes thrown out in street.

Locks. Changed.

Caught fast in net
like trashing fish.

Future visibility
moderate becoming poor

in showers.

Drunk. Again.
Singing in the rain.

What’s it all about
...Alfie


THE SHIPPING FORECAST...

An aural nautical weather map of an imaginary cut-up sea where the naming enters our nation’s consciousness....becomes part of the British psyche through its radio recitation... a litany... a rosary...mantra... a prayer of  various here and theres that can only be imagined.

An oral/aural concrete poetry whose art belongs to Dada... an incantation of sounds and places only imagined...well known unique distinctive soundings and their hypnotic reassuringly ritualistic resonant repetition which is held in the greatest affection...mesmerically obscure...soothingly safe...strangely comforting...a litany of waves coming across the airwaves like a lullaby or a wartime coded message or Cocteau’s Orphée trying to decode death on the radio.

As iconic as the tube map with its elegant geometry of twisted coloured lines...it has become part of our mental landscape that our senses seek out as being quintessentially British.

It scans...it’s got rhythm...who could ask for anything more.

Something rich...and strange.

*******

Especially in its bedtime for Britain broadcast with us all drifting off to the strains of Ronald Binge’s SAILING BY(also the writer of ELIZABETHEAN SERENADE)   as we sip our coca...lock the back door...put the milk bottles out and try to persuade the cat to come in as the day is put to bed and finally laid to rest at precisely 00: 48

And now the Shipping Forecast issued by the Met Office, on behalf of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency, at 1625 utc on Monday 31 May 2010 for the period 1800 utc Monday 31 May to 1800 utc Tuesday 01 June 2010.

The general synopsis at midday:

It is read out on Radio 4 at 0048,0520,1201 and 1754 (local time) . All broadcasts are on LW on 1515m (198 kHz)   and some transmissions are on VHF. It gives a summary of gale warnings in force, a general synopsis and area forecasts for specified sea areas around the UK. The radio bulletin also includes the coastal weather reports (0048 and 0536 only) .

The music played before the Shipping Forecast is 'Sailing By' composed by Ronald Binge.

The mystical marine areas are as follows:

VIKING    NORTH UTSIRE    SOUTH UTSIRE  
FORTIES    CROMARTY    FORTH
TYNE    DOGGER    FISHER    GERMAN  BIGHT
HUMBER    THAMES    DOVER    WIGHT
PORTLAND     PLYMOUTH    BISCAY    TRAFALGAR
FITZROY(FORMERLY FINISTERRE)  
SOLE    LUNDY    FASTNET
IRISH SEA    SHANNON    ROCKALL      MALIN    HEBRIDES
BAILEY    FAIR ISLE    FAEROES
SOUTHEAST ICELANDetry whose art belongs to Dada... an incantation of sounds and places only imagined...well known unique distinctive soundings and their hypnotic reassuringly ritualistic resonant repetition which is held in the greatest affection...mesmerically obscure...soothingly safe...strangely comforting...a litany of waves coming across the airwaves like a lullaby or a wartime coded message or Cocteau’s Orphée trying to decode death on the radio.

As iconic as the tube map with its elegant geometry of twisted coloured lines...it has become part of our mental landscape that our senses seek out as being quintessentially British.

It scans...it’s got rhythm...who could ask for anything more.

Something rich...and strange.

*******

Especially in its bedtime for Britain broadcast with us all drifting off to the strains of Ronald Binge’s SAILING BY(also the writer of ELIZABETHEAN SERENADE)   as we sip our coca...lock the back door...put the milk bottles out and try to persuade the cat to come in as the day is put to bed and finally laid to rest at precisely 00: 48

And now the Shipping Forecast issued by the Met Office, on behalf of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency, at 1625 utc on Monday 31 May 2010 for the period 1800 utc Monday 31 May to 1800 utc Tuesday 01 June 2010.

The general synopsis at midday:

It is read out on Radio 4 at 0048,0520,1201 and 1754 (local time) . All broadcasts are on LW on 1515m (198 kHz)   and some transmissions are on VHF. It gives a summary of gale warnings in force, a general synopsis and area forecasts for specified sea areas around the UK. The radio bulletin also includes the coastal weather reports (0048 and 0536 only) .

The music played before the Shipping Forecast is 'Sailing By' composed by Ronald Binge.

The mystical marine areas are as follows:

VIKING    NORTH UTSIRE    SOUTH UTSIRE  
FORTIES    CROMARTY    FORTH
TYNE    DOGGER    FISHER    GERMAN  BIGHT
HUMBER    THAMES    DOVER    WIGHT
PORTLAND     PLYMOUTH    BISCAY    TRAFALGAR
FITZROY(FORMERLY FINISTERRE)  
SOLE    LUNDY    FASTNET
IRISH SEA    SHANNON    ROCKALL      MALIN    HEBRIDES
BAILEY    FAIR ISLE    FAEROES
SOUTHEAST ICELAND
Continue reading...
AND ON THE OTHER HAND
Donall Dempsey Apr 2018
AND ON THE OTHER HAND
AND ON THE OTHER HAND

two lovers hand in hand
strolling...scrolling
down their own mobile phones
Continue reading...
AN DORCHADAS
Donall Dempsey May 2017
AN DORCHADAS
AN DORCHADAS

The Dark had come
alive.

Prowled about outside.

He stayed still.
Perfectly still.

So the Dark wouldn't
see him.

The Dark seemed to sense
his living presence.

It tore at the window
wounding the glass

leaving large
scratchy marks.

The window howled.

The Dark outside
spilling into the room

thickening the Dark
inside with its outside

filling the room with
a Dark deeper now

a Darkness one could
drown in.

The Darkness laughed
thickened...congealed about me.

Somewhere a clock
ticked too loudly

gobbling all the time up
( and there was precious little time left )
down to the dregs.

The Dark was hard and heavy
- solid.

He would have to cut through it
slash at it to part it.

The Dark slurped at him
with its rough cat's tongue

as if it would. . .
teasing...testing...tasting

"Quick. quick. . .!"
whispered Sleep in a furious hiss.

Sleep opened a trap door in itself
as the Dark lapped at him

he just had time to
slip inside.

The Dark growling
throwing itself against Sleep

with such rage
Sleeps's hinges...rattling...buckling

before the Darkness
padded away with a snarl.

Morning laughed itself
into his head

( "You ok kid!" )

bringing with it a cat's meow
a tracery of birdsong and

as much sunlight
it could drag behind it.

Stuffed as much sun as it could
into his awakening bedroom.

A tree tapped at the window.
"Hey kid...remember me!"

It was still 1963
and the dark hadn't gotten him.

"Come and play!"
said the day.
"Come and play!"

So, he - did.

The night now very
very far away.
Continue reading...
AND SO
Donall Dempsey Jan 2017
AND SO
AND SO

A latch
shuts the night

out

a turn of key
puts the town to rest whilst

outside a cat
and a milkbottle

gaze at the moon
yellow and overblown

and now Mr. Cat
with swish of tail

vanishes into the shadows
as the milk bottle

falls and rolls away
its note left on the pavement.

Inside a clock has run out
of tick tocks

until it is wound up
by a sleepy eyed man

so that it speaks of
time again.

The house dozes.
The lawn yawns.

Everything is
just so

and so

....goodnight.
Continue reading...
AND SO
Donall Dempsey Feb 16
AND SO
AND SO

a latch
shuts the night
out

a turn of key
puts the town
to rest whilst

outside a cat
and a milk bottle
gaze at the moon

yellow and overblown
and now Mr. Cat
with swish of tail

vanishes into the shadows
as the milk bottle
falls and rolls away

its note left
on the pavement.
Inside a clock has run out

of tick-tocks
until it is wound up
by a sleepy eyed man

so that
it speaks of
time again

the house dozes
the lawn yawns
everything is

just so
and so
....goodnight
Continue reading...
AND SO
Donall Dempsey Jan 27
AND SO
AND SO

a latch
shuts the night
out

a turn of key
puts the town
to rest whilst

outside a cat
and a milk bottle
gaze at the moon

yellow and overblown
and now Mr. Cat
with swish of tail

vanishes into the shadows
as the milk bottle
falls and rolls away

its note left
on the pavement.
Inside a clock has run out

of tick-tocks
until it is wound up
by a sleepy eyed man

so that
it speaks of
time again

the house dozes
the lawn yawns
everything is

just so
and so
....goodnight
Continue reading...
AND SO SAYS ALL OF ME
Donall Dempsey Feb 2017
AND SO SAYS ALL OF ME
AND SO SAYS ALL OF ME

There's more naked
yous...than...you

can shake a stick at
( so the mirror reflects ).

Here's you all at once
from the front, side and back

all at once and
simultaneously

your laughter shaking
your shoulders as you sing

Yello's
"Oh yeah...ooooo....YEAH!"

"Wow! I I wasn't me..."
you gasp

"I'd really fancy me!"
you nod in agreement

with your **** ****
mirror selves.

"You're a very very
lucky lucky fellow!"

you inform me
for my information.

And I agree
with all of you.

The mirror laughs.
And so do you.
Continue reading...
AND SO SAYS ALL OF US
Donall Dempsey Feb 2024
AND SO SAYS ALL OF US
AND SO SAYS ALL OF US

my little girl
pregnant
with a cushion

cushion
up her frock
mimics Mummy

cushion up my shirt
a very pregnant
family

the whole family
pregnant
together

Mummy mummy
Daddy mummy
daughter mummy

later on
we give birth to cushions
Mummy still with child

*

Started with the first one and then it just grew...pregnant with haiku..oh my gawd...sextuplets! My little girl was very serious about copying everything her Mum done and this was her attempt to keep up with what was happening mannnn! She told me I had to be pregnant too so I too had to resort to a cushion. When Mum came up she fell about laughing at having two more "Mummies" in the house. We then wrapped her in bandages so that she was truly a Mummy's mummy. So then we all had to become a Mummy's mummy...it helps when an entire family has the same sense of humour. Bit hard to explain later to Mummy's Mummy when she is looking through the family album. Mummy's mummy didn't have the same sense of humour...but I say...the family that plays together...stays together.
Continue reading...
AND SO SAYS ALL OF US
Donall Dempsey Feb 2022
AND SO SAYS ALL OF US
AND SO SAYS ALL OF US


my little girl
pregnant
with a cushion


cushion
up her frock
mimics Mummy


cushion up my shirt
a very pregnant
daddy


the whole family
pregnant
together


Mummy mummy
Daddy mummy
daughter mummy


later on
we give birth to cushions
Mummy still with child
Continue reading...
AND SO THE DAY BEGINS ITSELF
Donall Dempsey Oct 2021
AND SO THE DAY BEGINS ITSELF
AND SO THE DAY BEGINS ITSELF


windows waking
to the newest dawn
smiling with light

the eyes of the house
opening...opening
the door still asleep

now the chimney
enjoys a smoke
birds stroll along the roof

the garden path
runs up to the green door
a dog bounds out

"Rover...Rover!"
the still waking man shouts
Rover pretends he doesn't hear

the day walks about
in all its splendour
wearing the bluest of skies

a ladybird
shares its world with me
we both alive in this now

time held
in aspic
the moment in a forever

somewhere
in a July
of 1963
Continue reading...
AND STILL THE RAIN FALLS
Donall Dempsey Feb 2017
AND STILL THE RAIN FALLS
AND STILL THE RAIN FALLS

between you
And me

the wall
of your death

descends
with an audible clang

cutting us off
each from the other

I can still see you
clearly

I throw myself
against this barrier

the glass laughing
as I

slither cartoonishly
down its impossibility

behind it
your past exists

all neatly packaged
contained and counted.

Your future has been
cancelled.

Your present no longer
to be seen.

I throw myself at this
unacceptable thing

enraged as rain
filling up an empty

tin cup in a Parisian
backstreet.

You reach out your hand
to touch me

comfort me

but I am not able to be
comforted

the glass mocks me


and still the rain
falls
Continue reading...
AND THE BEAUTY THAT BREAKS FROM THEE THEN!
Donall Dempsey Apr 2015
AND THE BEAUTY THAT BREAKS FROM THEE THEN!
Here in Stratford
upon Avon

our love so
(so Shakespearean)      

“...this the very naked name of love...”

& here
upon this
naked hillside

hidden amongst summer’s
long tall grasses

each time
our loving

graced by the presence
of a windhover

as if Gerard Manley Hopkins
blessed our union

sending us this sign

touching us with the beauty
of his lines:


“...a billion times told...lovelier! ”
This windhover(kestrel)       seemed to follow us through the unfurling story of our love and always appeared when we were making love whether it be a hotel bedroom or a sunny hillside.   As if it were the same windhover watching over us or a blessing from Fr. Hopkins whose poem I had always loved since I was a child.

    Here then was the beauty of this woman before me waking to our first morning ever together and her beauty almost blinded me and so the misquote of the Hopkins line...'AND the fire that breaks from thee then...' as her beauty flowered in my mind and almost eclipsed me. Her tongue had taught me comfort...her touch had quenched my tears...had touched my heart. Suddenly love had found me and I surrendered myself to the tenderness that befell me with even the littlest of her smiles.

   And yes...she was 'a billion times told lovelier' than I could ever have imagined her. I was blessed and she was my blessing.


And here is Hopkins...in all its wonder and glory!

                         The Windhover:

                         To Christ our Lord

I caught this morning morning’s minion. King-
  dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn Falcon, in his riding
  Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! Then off, off forth on swing,
  As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
  Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, -the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
  Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
  No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
  Fall, gall themselves, and **** gold-vermillion.

Gerard Manley Hopkins
Continue reading...
AND THE BLACK BOAT RIDES THE SUNSET WAVES
Donall Dempsey Aug 2018
AND THE BLACK BOAT RIDES THE SUNSET WAVES
AND THE BLACK BOAT RIDES THE SUNSET WAVES

jumping out of the wound
my blood deserts me

dancing now
in the sun

such fun
it's having

thinking it is free
of me

not knowing
this sun

as the false friend
it is

that will leave it
clinging to the stones

a stain
that will be seen

by those not present
at the wound's opening

"Come back...come back!"
I call to it faintly

my voice too
deserting my mouth

but the blood just
laughs in my face

as you fumble
in your many-objects-bag

pulling out
your last

Sanitary towel

tie it to my head
trapping the blood

within my skull
my red red river

a prisoner once again
of my corporeal identity

my thoughts hiding
within my battered heart

and the sea
who had thrown me

from rock pool
to rocks

laughs at the male human
wearing a sanitary towel as a hat.

"WHOAH Body-form, Bodyform for you!!!"
Continue reading...
...AND THE NEXT AND. . .
Donall Dempsey Apr 2016
...AND THE NEXT AND. . .
...AND THE NEXT AND. . .

I love your footstep
rhyming next to mine.

Two for one and one
for all

together in
the same footfall.

Even the presence
of just your voice

from some room or
the other

as you materialise
into being

your smile demanding
tea or kisses.

Me your Mr.
You my Mrs.

I loving you
down to your very least molecule.

Yea....the very DNA
of you

sharing the next
second with you

and the next
and the next
and the next
TO.THE. ONLIE. BEGETTER. OF.
THESE. INSUING. THOUGHTLINGS.
MISS J.W. ALL. HAPPINESSE.
AND. THAT. ETERNITIE.
PROMISED.
BY.
OUR. EVER-LOVING. POET.
WISHETH.
THE. WELL-WISHING
ADVENTURER.IN.
SETTING.FORTH.
UPON. HER. MARRIAGE.
YET. TO. BE.

D.D.
Continue reading...
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I
Donall Dempsey Aug 2024
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I

Time dawdles
stretches out the crash
to an infinity of now

casually I watch the car
crash into my side
as if it were someone else's story

car runs red light
the crash about to happen
taking...its. . .( time )

I watch my door buckle
as if an invisible monster
wanted to eat its way to me

time...finally(stops):
I fade to black
karate chopped from luggage from the back

I drink up unconsciousness
thirsty for
the oblivion it brings

the world leaves me now
even my thoughts
don't even know me

I am no more
a me
without an I

"You knocked. . ?"
Death asks politely
"No..just...passing through!"

Life swims back to me
from a distant
horizon

"Hey!" shouts Life
"It's me!"
"Do I know you?" I ask
Continue reading...
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I
Donall Dempsey Oct 2024
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I

Time dawdles
stretches out the crash
to an infinity of now

casually I watch the car
crash into my side
as if it were someone else's story

car runs red light
the crash about to happen
taking...its...(time)  

I watch my door buckle
as if an invisible monster
wanted to eat its way to me

time...finally(stops) :
I fade to black
karate chopped from luggage from the back

I drink up unconsciousness
thirsty for
the oblivion it brings

the world leaves me now
even my thoughts
don't even know me

I am no more
a me
without an I

'You knocked..? '
Death asks politely
'No..just...passing through! '

Life swims back to me
from a distant
horizon

'Hey! ' shouts Life
'It's me! '
'Do I know you? ' I ask

*

Kinda weird to see your own death coming at ya and to dive into the blackness of the nothing only to resurface back into the light and a human voice asking you "Are you alright?" And being polite you say "I'm fine...fine!" Such polite lying but there we are pushed back into the good old world with time back again ticking on the clock. And to think...there was me...without an I...about to become nothing! That's...like...really something!
Continue reading...
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I
Donall Dempsey Aug 2018
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I

Time dawdles
stretches out the crash
to an infinity of now

casually I watch the car
crash into my side
as if it were someone else's story

car runs red light
the crash about to happen
taking...its. . .( time )

I watch my door buckle
as if an invisible monster
wanted to eat its way to me

time...finally(stops):
I fade to black
karate chopped from luggage from the back

I drink up unconsciousness
thirsty for
the oblivion it brings

the world leaves me now
even my thoughts
don't even know me

I am no more
a me
without an I

"You knocked. . ?"
Death asks politely
"No..just...passing through!"

Life swims back to me
from a distant
horizon

"Hey!" shouts Life
"It's me!"
"Do I know you?" I ask
That moment or instant rather when you watch the world or rather your world coming to an end...time slows down unbearably and it takes a century for a second to pass and then...the world switches back on again and...well...there you are!
Continue reading...
AND THE STONE WAS MADE FLESH
Donall Dempsey Dec 2016
AND THE STONE WAS MADE FLESH
AND THE STONE WAS MADE FLESH

her hair flowed
between naked shoulder blades
like a red waterfall

she turned and her hair
splashed over her left shoulder
like a living creature

she wore a yellow mini
the top of a blue bikini
she went from the sublime to

the ridiculously sublime
broke into my mind
robbed me blind

she gazed upon
a statue with no clothes on
a miracle in marble

the stone
made flesh
but see how she now

the statue
come alive
even to her smile

each curve of her
greater by far
the statue envious of such beauty
Continue reading...
AND THE STONE WAS MADE FLESH
Donall Dempsey Dec 2017
AND THE STONE WAS MADE FLESH
AND THE STONE WAS MADE FLESH

her hair flowed
between naked shoulder blades
like a red waterfall

she turned and her hair
splashed over her left shoulder
like a living creature

she wore a yellow mini
the top of a blue bikini
she went from the sublime to

the ridiculously sublime
broke into my mind
robbed me blind

she gazed upon
a statue with no clothes on
a miracle in marble

the stone
made flesh
but see how she now

the statue
come alive
even to her smile

each curve of her
greater by far
the statue envious of such beauty
Continue reading...
AND THE WAY UP IS THE WAY DOWN
Donall Dempsey Jan 2023
AND THE WAY UP IS THE WAY DOWN
AND THE WAY UP IS THE WAY DOWN

"Footfalls echo in the memory..."

I still see you
in the rose garden

reciting Elliot in
those magnificent tones

although death
gently erases you

so that the roses
can be seen

through you
though your voice remains

true and strong
a swallow flies

through your eyes
you nothing now

but a ghostly aid
to my faltering memory.

I still miss your body
the shape of you

sleeping beside me
curled like a question mark

into my dreaming
back.

Never got used to
an empty bed.

Find I have to imagine you
conjure you up.

A sleight of mind
the smoke and mirrors

of desire
and wanting.

I prune my roses
"the poet's wife."

How we always laughed
at such a name

when you could never
write a word

only quote
your adored Mr. Elliot.

I prune
a rose that rambles

and oh dear
I appear

to have snipped off
your head

fading as it was
I will imagine another.

Your voice impervious
to the  secateurs.

"...for the leaves were full
of children..."

the children we
never had.

We lived our life
as if we had a wisdom

of our own
knowing

"If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable."
Continue reading...
AND THE WAY UP IS THE WAY DOWN
Donall Dempsey Jan 2020
AND THE WAY UP IS THE WAY DOWN
AND THE WAY UP IS THE WAY DOWN

"Footfalls echo in the memory..."

I still see you
in the rose garden

reciting Elliot in
those magnificent tones

although death
gently erases you

so that the roses
can be seen

through you
though your voice remains

true and strong
a swallow flies

through your eyes
you nothing now

but a ghostly aid
to my faltering memory.

I still miss your body
the shape of you

sleeping beside me
curled like a question mark

into my dreaming
back.

Never got used to
an empty bed.

Find I have to imagine you
conjure you up.

A sleight of mind
the smoke and mirrors

of desire
and wanting.

I prune my roses
"the poet's wife."

How we always laughed
at such a name

when you could never
write a word

only quote
your adored Mr. Elliot.

I prune
a rose that rambles

and oh dear
I appear

to have snipped off
your head

fading as it was
I will imagine another.

Your voice impervious
to the  secateurs.

"...for the leaves were full
of children..."

the children we
never had.

We lived our life
as if we had a wisdom

of our own
knowing

"If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable."
Continue reading...
AND THE WAY UP IS THE WAY DOWN
Donall Dempsey Jan 7
AND THE WAY UP IS THE WAY DOWN
AND THE WAY UP IS THE WAY DOWN

"Footfalls echo in the memory..."

I still see you
in the rose garden

reciting Elliot in
those magnificent tones

although death
gently erases you

so that the roses
can be seen

through you
though your voice remains

true and strong
a swallow flies

through your eyes
you nothing now

but a ghostly aid
to my faltering memory.

I still miss your body
the shape of you

sleeping beside me
curled like a question mark

into my dreaming
back.

Never got used to
an empty bed.

Find I have to imagine you
conjure you up.

A sleight of mind
the smoke and mirrors

of desire
and wanting.

I prune my roses
"the poet's wife."

How we always laughed
at such a name

when you could never
write a word

only quote
your adored Mr. Elliot.

I prune
a rose that rambles

and oh dear
I appear

to have snipped off
your head

fading as it was
I will imagine another.

Your voice impervious
to the  secateurs.

"...for the leaves were full
of children..."

the children we
never had.

We lived our life
as if we had a wisdom

of our own
knowing

"If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable."
Continue reading...
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
Donall Dempsey Oct 2019
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW

You are like. .  .all
the dark shops of my childhood
where you enter with the little ****** of a bell

and the world blossoms

into a myriad of things colourful to sell
stacked in impossible & impeccable order

all yelling shining glinting wild & glassy

and the cash register singing with the hard earned money
and the little ****** of a bell lets you out again

into a world
excited with the falling of  snow

& the palpable approach
of  a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas

and the world
was as simple as snow.
Continue reading...
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
Donall Dempsey Dec 2015
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW

You are like all
the dark shops of my childhood

where you enter
with the little ****** of a bell

and the world blossoms
into a myriad of things colourful

to sell
stacked

in impossible & impeccable
order.

All yelling
shining
glinting

wild & glassy.

And the cash register singing
with the hard earned money

and the little ****** of a bell
lets you out again

into a world
excited with the falling of  snow

& the palpable approach
of  a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas

and the world
was as simple as snow.
I used to save up all my little pennies throughout the whole year to get my Ma "4711" and me Da "Old Spice." These were their perpetual presents but they always pretended surprise. Then there would be the trek through falling snow to enter this magical store and to have it assault one's senses and zing all around you. I can still feel my hand in my big sister's hand...our footsteps echoing into the long long ago. This little scrap of remembrance is a little treasure that I hoard...real emotional treasure more gorgeous than gold.
Continue reading...
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
Donall Dempsey Dec 2020
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW

You are like. .  .all

the dark shops of my childhood
where you enter with the little ****** of a bell

and the world blossoms

into a myriad of things colourful to sell
stacked in impossible & impeccable order
all yelling shining glinting wild & glassy
and the cash register singing with the hard earned money

and the little ****** of a bell lets you out again
into a world

excited with the falling of  snow
& the palpable approach

of  a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas
and the world

was as simple as snow.
Continue reading...
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
Donall Dempsey Dec 2019
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW

You are like all
the dark shops of my childhood

where you enter
with the little ****** of a bell

and the world blossoms
into a myriad of things colourful

to sell
stacked

in impossible & impeccable
order.

All yelling
shining
glinting

wild & glassy.

And the cash register singing
with the hard earned money

and the little ****** of a bell
lets you out again

into a world
excited with the falling of  snow

& the palpable approach
of  a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas

and the world
was as simple as snow.
***

I used to save up all my little pennies throughout the whole year to get my Ma "4711" and me Da "Old Spice." These were their perpetual presents but they always pretended surprise. Then there would be the trek through falling snow to enter this magical store and to have it assault one's senses and zing all around you. I can still feel my hand in my big sister's hand...our footsteps echoing into the long long ago. This little scrap of remembrance is a little treasure that I hoard...real emotional treasure more gorgeous than gold.

Pennies meant that all during summer i would forgo ice pops when all others would be licking theirs and I would be gasping for them. Every penny save was one step nearer that magical experience of being able to buy for them and their lovely lovely faces lighting up like they was little kids. I felt very adult then and it was worth it....seeing them see my presents was the best Christmas present I could get and it was hard earned a penny at a time.
Continue reading...
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW

You are like. .  .all
the dark shops of my childhood
where you enter with the little ****** of a bell

and the world blossoms

into a myriad of things colourful to sell
stacked in impossible & impeccable order

all yelling shining glinting wild & glassy

and the cash register singing with the hard earned money
and the little ****** of a bell lets you out again

into a world
excited with the falling of  snow

& the palpable approach
of  a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas

and the world
was as simple as snow.
Continue reading...
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
Donall Dempsey Dec 2023
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW

You are like. .  .all
the dark shops of my childhood
where you enter with the little ****** of a bell

and the world blossoms

into a myriad of things colourful to sell
stacked in impossible & impeccable order

all yelling shining glinting wild & glassy

and the cash register singing with the hard earned money
and the little ****** of a bell lets you out again

into a world
excited with the falling of  snow

& the palpable approach
of  a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas

and the world
was as simple as snow.

*

It is a love poem for my sister Junie...the YOU ARE LIKE. . .and then I am taken up on the wings of memory and she's alive again and I am 7 and always holding her hand as we go to buy my Ma 4711 eau de tiolette and my Da Old Spice aftersahve. I always got them these presents year after year in the time of my childhood..It took me 6 months to save up the money for them...and I would look longingly at kids ******* ice lollies in the depths of summer but save my little pennies 'til they grew into pounds and Christmas approached slowly and silently but I was always ready for it...and I would go with my sister June up to a lovely old chemist all polished wood and brass and glass...the little bell creating the wonder and with its ****** right on cue the snow would fall and I would hold my lovely sister's hand forever and ever and never ever let go...the delight was in my sister and her love and this is what the poem is all about....Christmas is just the backdrop to my always remembering her so. I can still feel her hand.
Continue reading...
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
Donall Dempsey Dec 2024
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW

You are like all
the dark shops of my childhood

where you enter
with the little ****** of a bell

and the world blossoms
into a myriad of things colourful

to sell
stacked

in impossible & impeccable
order.

All yelling
shining
glinting

wild & glassy.

And the cash register singing
with the hard earned money

and the little ****** of a bell
lets you out again

into a world
excited with the falling of  snow

& the palpable approach
of  a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas

and the world
was as simple as snow.


*

I used to save up all my little pennies throughout the whole year to get my Ma "4711" and me Da "Old Spice." These were their perpetual presents but they always pretended surprise. Then there would be the trek through falling snow to enter this magical store and to have it assault one's senses and zing all around you. I can still feel my hand in my big sister's hand...our footsteps echoing into the long long ago. This little scrap of remembrance is a little treasure that I hoard...real emotional treasure more gorgeous than gold.
Pennies meant that all during summer i would forgoe ice pops when all others would be licking theirs and I would be gasping for them. Every penny save was one step nearer that magical experience of being able to buy for them and their lovely lovely faces lighting up like they was little kids. I felt very adult then and it was worth it....seeing them see my presents was the best Christmas present I could get and it was hard earned a penny at a time.

I wanted a love poem that simply didn't say the ordinary I love you but pinned it on a feeling that totally enraptured me. "You are like...." and then we depart to the regions of a feeling that still shines as brightly for me as it did then.
Continue reading...
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
Donall Dempsey Dec 2024
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW

You are like. .  .all
the dark shops of my childhood
where you enter with the little ****** of a bell

and the world blossoms

into a myriad of things colourful to sell
stacked in impossible & impeccable order

all yelling shining glinting wild & glassy

and the cash register singing with the hard earned money
and the little ****** of a bell lets you out again

into a world
excited with the falling of  snow

& the palpable approach
of  a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas

and the world
was as simple as snow.

*

It is a love poem for my sister Junie...the YOU ARE LIKE. . .and then I am taken up on the wings of memory and she's alive again and I am 7 and always holding her hand as we go to buy my Ma 4711 eau de tiolette and my Da Old Spice aftersahve. I always got them these presents year after year in the time of my childhood..It took me 6 months to save up the money for them...and I would look longingly at kids ******* ice lollies in the depths of summer but save my little pennies 'til they grew into pounds and Christmas approached slowly and silently but I was always ready for it...and I would go with my sister June up to a lovely old chemist all polished wood and brass and glass...the little bell creating the wonder and with its ****** right on cue the snow would fall and I would hold my lovely sister's hand forever and ever and never ever let go...the delight was in my sister and her love and this is what the poem is all about....Christmas is just the backdrop to my always remembering her so. I can still feel her hand.
Continue reading...
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
Donall Dempsey Dec 2017
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW

You are like all
the dark shops of my childhood
where you enter
with the little ****** of a bell

and the world blossoms
into a myriad of things colourful
to sell
stacked
in impossible & impeccable
order.

All yelling
shining
glinting
wild & glassy.
And the cash register singing
with the hard earned money
and the little ****** of a bell
lets you out again

into a world
excited with the falling of snow
& the palpable approach
of a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas
and the world
was as simple as snow.
Continue reading...
AND THE WRITING BE OF WORDS
Donall Dempsey May 2017
AND THE WRITING BE OF WORDS
AND THE WRITING BE OF WORDS

"Who left the **** door open!"
knowing who ****** well

"And the door of the icebox too...
...where is that no-good-man!"

A white chicken stood
in the middle of her kitchen

like a miniature chef
clucking to itself

pecking at plums
knocked over on the floor

left overs from yesterday.

"William..!" she hollered "...William!"


"Just wait 'till he sees
what I'll say!"

William lay staring at a sky
he would never see again

a fallen can of white paint
splurged all over barrow and grass

a manic splash of redgreenandwhite
like some stupid art installation.

It was raining.
The title is from the William Carlos Williams poem A SORT OF SONG. And of course this poem walks us through his two must famous poems THIS IS JUST TO SAY and THE RED WHEELBARROW but taking us to a different place.

***


A SORT OF SONG

Let the snake wait under
his ****
and the writing
be of words, slow and quick, sharp
to strike, quiet to wait,
sleepless.
-- through metaphor to reconcile
the people and the stones.
Compose. (No ideas
but in things) Invent!
Saxifrage is my flower that splits
the rocks.

William Carlos Williams
Continue reading...
AND THE WRITING BE OF WORDS
Donall Dempsey May 2018
AND THE WRITING BE OF WORDS
AND THE WRITING BE OF WORDS

"Who left the **** door open!"
she knowing who ****** well.

"And the door of the icebox too...
...where is that no-good-man!"

A white chicken stood
in the middle of her kitchen

like a miniature chef
clucking to itself

pecking at plums
knocked over on the floor

left overs from yesterday.

"William..!" she hollered "...William!"

"Just wait 'till he sees
what I'll say!"

William lay staring at a sky
he would never see again

a fallen can of white paint
splurged all over barrow and grass

a manic splash of redgreenandwhite
like some stupid art installation.

It was raining.
A SORT OF A SONG

Let the snake wait under
his ****
and the writing
be of words, slow and quick, sharp
to strike, quiet to wait,
sleepless.
---through metaphor to reconcile
the people and the stones.
Compose. (No ideas
but in things) Invent!
Saxifrage is my flower that splits
the rocks.

William Carlos Williams
Continue reading...
AND TIME A THIEF
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
AND TIME A THIEF
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.
Continue reading...
AND TIME A THIEF
Donall Dempsey Sep 2017
AND TIME A THIEF
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 breast.

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.
Continue reading...
AND TIME A THIEF
Donall Dempsey Sep 2019
AND TIME A THIEF
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.
Continue reading...
AND TIME A THIEF
Donall Dempsey Sep 2024
AND TIME A THIEF
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.
Continue reading...
AND TIME A THIEF
Donall Dempsey Sep 2015
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 breast.

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.
Continue reading...
AND WE'RE ALL MADE OUT OF TICKY-TACKY
Donall Dempsey Sep 2020
AND WE'RE ALL MADE OUT OF TICKY-TACKY
AND WE'RE ALL MADE OUT OF TICKY-TACKY

Oh...Zeus
we haven't heard of you
for such a long time

Ah Yahweh yes
we can see you but
we can't hear you

And Allah we
can hear you but
not see you

if you look down
to the left you can see
the icon...turn your video on

now who isn't
here or rather
all here...un-mute yourselves please

I see on the chat line
that alas
Buddha can't make it

and the Dharmic religions
offer
their apologies

let's see who are we
waiting for
ahhh there's someone

in the waiting room
the Second Coming
I'll just let Him in...ping

ok shall we begin then
I am who am
the Lord God of Zoom

and here we goooooo
zooming across the known
universe in our little boxes
Continue reading...
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