Mar 2
DANNY DEMPSEY'S SON
my name
floated free
from me
like a child's ballon
taken prisoner
by a sky
here at the Old Head
of Kinsale where
my father had been born
I had become
"Ahhh Danny Dempsey's son!"
"Ahhh Danny Dempsey's boy!"
my Donall-self lost
in their delight of my father
"Where's my name gone?"
"He's the spit of ya!"
"The very echo of ya!"
"Hasn't he stole yer face!"
everyone having an opinion
of who it was
I was
and wasn't I only
delighted to be
" Ahhh Danny Dempsey's son!"
*
It was the first and only time I had been taken to my father's birthplace. And despite being long away from here he was instantly
known by strangers who could tell him by just the look of him. And it turned out everyone was a second or seventh cousin. They delighted in him...sheer happiness to be in his presence as in the wild sky generation after generation linked together in the cry of the gulls.
The lighthouse was too dangerous to go up in so we stood at its base with a storm rearing its head. It was odd that nobody referred to me by my name only as "Danny Dempsey's son!" I wore this naming like a medal...always delighted to be his child.
On my first Holy Communion I was taken to Dublin for the great day. We were walking down Moore Street with the women selling their fruit and vegetables in full voice. A babble of voices....crazy as gulls.
When they saw us the whole street as one stopped and smiled with glee. One after another they declaimed: "Ahhh sure if it isn't Danny with his little fella!" I was petted and patted and hair ruffled and oooh'd and ahhh'ed over.Money and fruit...fruit and money were ****** into our hands despite our protestations.
I thought it was the Cork effect happening all over again. It was like my Da was The Beatles but they had simply mistaken him for someone else. And the more he tried to tell him who he was...didn't they laugh and say: "Ahh sure isn't it a terrible man y'are altogether...always the joker.!"
We tried to give the money back but they wouldn't be having it. I whispered to my Da: "Who are they...do you know them?" He gulped; "Know them? No!" I gulped: "What do we do?" He told me" "We take the money and run!"
And so we did...dropping oranges and apples as we made our escape. The stall women shouting after us:.."Don't forget to come back!" I still wonder what happened when their Danny turned up!
my name
floated free
from me
like a child's ballon
taken prisoner
by a sky
here at the Old Head
of Kinsale where
my father had been born
I had become
"Ahhh Danny Dempsey's son!"
"Ahhh Danny Dempsey's boy!"
my Donall-self lost
in their delight of my father
"Where's my name gone?"
"He's the spit of ya!"
"The very echo of ya!"
"Hasn't he stole yer face!"
everyone having an opinion
of who it was
I was
and wasn't I only
delighted to be
" Ahhh Danny Dempsey's son!"
*
It was the first and only time I had been taken to my father's birthplace. And despite being long away from here he was instantly
known by strangers who could tell him by just the look of him. And it turned out everyone was a second or seventh cousin. They delighted in him...sheer happiness to be in his presence as in the wild sky generation after generation linked together in the cry of the gulls.
The lighthouse was too dangerous to go up in so we stood at its base with a storm rearing its head. It was odd that nobody referred to me by my name only as "Danny Dempsey's son!" I wore this naming like a medal...always delighted to be his child.
On my first Holy Communion I was taken to Dublin for the great day. We were walking down Moore Street with the women selling their fruit and vegetables in full voice. A babble of voices....crazy as gulls.
When they saw us the whole street as one stopped and smiled with glee. One after another they declaimed: "Ahhh sure if it isn't Danny with his little fella!" I was petted and patted and hair ruffled and oooh'd and ahhh'ed over.Money and fruit...fruit and money were ****** into our hands despite our protestations.
I thought it was the Cork effect happening all over again. It was like my Da was The Beatles but they had simply mistaken him for someone else. And the more he tried to tell him who he was...didn't they laugh and say: "Ahh sure isn't it a terrible man y'are altogether...always the joker.!"
We tried to give the money back but they wouldn't be having it. I whispered to my Da: "Who are they...do you know them?" He gulped; "Know them? No!" I gulped: "What do we do?" He told me" "We take the money and run!"
And so we did...dropping oranges and apples as we made our escape. The stall women shouting after us:.."Don't forget to come back!" I still wonder what happened when their Danny turned up!
