Tear by Tear (for Onelia)
At night
I visit
the village
in which I was
born.
I float
above rooftops
dive into the house
next door
to my own
little home
swim down streets
with all the swagger
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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THE ONLY THING(for Barbara & Ray)
Ah, little daughter
the only thing
I can tell you
was that you were made
with love
our love
and that before we
could get to know you
Death: unmade you
& you vanished from our sight.
Ah, little daughter
if only I could tell you
what you would
like to know:
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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A Memory Of Moon & Water
I can still touch
with the fingertip of memory
your Venetian laughter
losing itself in the mist
of Myth & History
here where
Past & Present
are one
& my lips kiss your lips
& your heart under my hand
trembles
like a tiny frightened bird
that would fly away into
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Deadly Forecast
Sunrise on the 6th
of August
immaculately
cloudless.
Sunlight glinting on
the Industrial Promotion Hall
Eatherly's plane
STRAIGHT FLUSH
reports on
visibility
does a
simulated run.
The radio cackles:
'Cloud Cover - less than 3/10tths
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Loving Is The Only Heaven
You pad across
the white tile floor
almost animal
your beauty
something only you
could tame
I have to raise my arm against it
as you come out of the sun
wearing only my white silk shirt
blown gracefully
against your curves
the shirt billowing behind you
as if
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes
In your old nursery
we ride the rocking horse
of your childhood
colours sad & faded
paint peeling
I clasp your waist
enchanted
as you ride back into
your dreams
eyes closed
you tell me
you
use to rock like this
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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What’s The French For Déjà Vu Anyway?
When I met you first
the price of being
“THE HAPPY FAMILY”
was your un-happiness.
And although you were unwillingly willing...
...it was too high a price to pay.
I held on to all this
un-happiness
So that you could escape
into the freedom of being
happy
(hopefully with me)
You left me holding
this un-happiness like it was
the proverbial baby
...then you left me.
Now the price I pay
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Around Here.
His battered old suit
simply his best
by not being worn
hangs on a hanger
waiting for a Sunday
or a christening or a funeral
to come ‘round
but nothing ever comes ‘round
‘round here
...only an occasional Sunday
or the funeral
that is your own
your last chance
to wear your best
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Ah Where Are The Newspapers Of Yesterday?
We chased
yesterday’s news
all over
the grass
laughed
as the old newspapers
ran this
way & that
“kites
without strings”
We pretended them.
Just add wind
& presto...fun!
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Kissing The Naked Stars
Your star
earrings
leave tiny star
like scars
that I like
to kiss
when you undress
your ears
& put your earrings
to bed in a musical
jewelry box
with a dancing
ballerina on top
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poem by Dónall Dempsey
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