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AS ONE
( for Miss Tilly & Miss Tiddles )

the kitten has no need
of time
it lives in the meow of now

the toddler too
of time cares nothing
cries only for the now

both watch
as the world assembles
itself around them

they gaze
into each other's eyes
smile with recognition

they treat each other
as equal
beings

they play with the moment
rolling it around
as if it were a bell in a ball

they are both startled
by the shadow that
grows out of them

neither kitten or girl
can understand the stranger who
mimics and mocks them in the mirror

now their shadows hide and
there is no body
behind the mirror

grandfather clock
spits out time
in sharp short ticks

both girl & kitten
laughing at it
wondering why it cries

they live in the endless
time of
no time

a moment is
a forever
a play thing

girl & kitten now
asleep in each other's arms
Time has been turned off

the world sneaks away
here a blob of green
there a shred of red

inside their heads
kitten...girl
share the same dream
Donall Dempsey Jan 2024
AS ONE
( for Miss Tilly & Miss Tiddles )

the kitten has no need
of time
it lives in the meow of now

the toddler too
of time cares nothing
cries only for the now

both watch
as the world assembles
itself around them

they gaze
into each other's eyes
smile with recognition

they treat each other
as equal
beings

they play with the moment
rolling it around
as if it were a bell in a ball

they are both startled
by the shadow that
grows out of them

neither kitten or girl
can understand the stranger who
mimics and mocks them in the mirror

now their shadows hide and
there is no body
behind the mirror

grandfather clock
spits out time
in sharp short ticks

both girl & kitten
laughing at it
wondering why it cries

they live in the endless
time of
no time

a moment is
a forever
a play thing

girl & kitten now
asleep in each other's arms
Time has been turned off

the world sneaks away
here a blob of green
there a shred of red

inside their heads
kitten...girl
share the same dream
Donall Dempsey Sep 2016
old pond
trees stand on their heads
dangle their toes in sky
Donall Dempsey Feb 2024
AS SURE AS SHOES IS SHOES

out of the interlocking needles
a sock
grows

hanging from its needles
the sock
a chrysalis

Auntie Marge's socks
as if a rainbow
had grown two feet
  

Auntie Marge's
infamous rainbow socks
flying off for Christmas

Paris..New York...Termonfeckin
nieces nephews children grandchildren
all wearing rainbow socks

the half grown sock
tick of a grandfather clock
wait for the mourners to return

her needles in a cigar tin
standing to
attention

sticking their heads
out of the bin
some large crochet needles

"As sure as shoes is shoes
I kept warm the feet
of this here family!"

clock cuts up Time
into little bits
so that the humans can understand
Donall Dempsey Feb 2021
AS SURE AS SHOES IS SHOES

out of the interlocking needles
a sock
grows

hanging from its needles
the sock
a chrysalis

Auntie Marge's socks
as if a rainbow
had grown two feet

Auntie Marge's
infamous rainbow socks
flying off for Christmas

Paris..New York...Termonfeckin
nieces nephews children grandchildren
all wearing rainbow socks

the half grown sock
tick of a grandfather clock
wait for the mourners to return

her needles in a cigar tin
standing to
attention

sticking their heads
out of the bin
some large crochet needles

"As sure as shoes is shoes
I kept warm the feet
of this here family!"

clock cuts up Time
into little bits
so that the humans can understand
Donall Dempsey Feb 2019
AS SURE AS SHOES IS SHOES

out of the interlocking needles
a sock
grows

hanging from its needles
the sock
a chrysalis

Auntie Marge's socks
as if a rainbow
had grown two feet

Auntie Marge's
infamous rainbow socks
flying off for Christmas

Paris..New York...Termonfeckin
nieces nephews children grandchildren
all wearing rainbow socks

the half grown sock
tick of a grandfather clock
wait for the mourners to return

her needles in a cigar tin
standing to
attention

sticking their heads
out of the bin
some large crochet needles

"As sure as shoes is shoes
I kept warm the feet
of this here family!"

clock cuts up Time
into little bits
so that the humans can understand
Donall Dempsey Feb 2020
AS SURE AS SHOES IS SHOES

out of the interlocking needles
a sock
grows

hanging from its needles
the sock
a chrysalis

Auntie Marge's socks
as if a rainbow
had grown two feet

Auntie Marge's
infamous rainbow socks
flying off for Christmas

Paris..New York...Termonfeckin
nieces nephews children grandchildren
all wearing rainbow socks

the half grown sock
tick of a grandfather clock
wait for the mourners to return

her needles in a cigar tin
standing to
attention

sticking their heads
out of the bin
some large crochet needles

"As sure as shoes is shoes
I kept warm the feet
of this here family!"

clock cuts up Time
into little bits
so that the humans can understand
Donall Dempsey Feb 2024
AS SURE AS SHOES IS SHOES

out of the interlocking needles
a sock
grows

hanging from its needles
the sock
a chrysalis

Auntie Marge's socks
as if a rainbow
had grown two feet

Auntie Marge's
infamous rainbow socks
flying off for Christmas

Paris..New York...Termonfeckin
nieces nephews children grandchildren
all wearing rainbow socks

the half grown sock
tick of a grandfather clock
wait for the mourners to return

her needles in a cigar tin
standing to
attention

sticking their heads
out of the bin
some large crochet needles

"As sure as shoes is shoes
I kept warm the feet
of this here family!"

clock cuts up Time
into little bits
so that the humans can understand


Her grandfather was a cobbler and would always say this whatever the situation. People would always need shoes...although the family of the cobbler often did without as shoes is what put food on the table.

But who is wurs shod, than the shoemakers wyfe, With shops full of newe shapen shoes all hir lyfe?

[1546 J. Heywood Dialogue of Proverbs i. xi. E1V]

All languages have same sounding adages...whatever the profession.

Les cordonniers sont les plus mal chaussés.

with a first quote by Montaigne : Quand nous veoyons un homme mal chaussé, nous disons que ce n'est pas merveille s'il est chaussetier in

In German:

Die Kinder des Schusters haben die schlechtesten Schuhe.

In Spanish (En casa de herrero, cuchillo de palo "In a blacksmith's home, knives are wooden").

In Chinese "the lady who sells fans fans herself with her hands",

In Arabic, "at the potter's house water is served in a broken jug".



Her grandfather was a cobbler and would always say this whatever the situation. People would always need shoes...although the family of the cobbler often did without as shoes is what put food on the table.

"Chomh cinnte is bróga atá bróga!" as she would say in her Irish.

Her grandfather would shorten it to" is bróga atá bróga!" or" shoes is shoes."
Donall Dempsey Aug 2022
My mind always returns to this time....coming in at a different trajectory and changing the mental landscape...landing in the same but different moment seen from another angle.


AS THIS MOMENT THOU ART


the wood shavings
curl & cling
to my father's voice


as he sings
to the wood
releasing its scent


wave upon wave
of pine
crashing upon


this shore of summer
its morning long ago
forgotten


this wood will shape shift
into a chair leg
dovetailing into


the song he sings
as the wood listens
to every syllable



as if his singing
coaxed into being
chair leg...window frame



stool or saddle.
"Oh believe me if all those
endearing young charms..."



and the wood swoons
to his planning
'''...that I gaze at so


fondly today."
Moore's melodies and pine
reaches back in time



to grasp
the moment
lost to my mind



but now
returning
to its rightful place



as wood
becomes chair leg
to my father's singing
AS THIS MOMENT THOU ART

The wood shavings curl &
curl to my father's voice

as he sings to the wood
releasing its scent

wave upon wave
of pine

crashing upon
this shore of summer

its morning long
forgotten.

This wood will shape shift
into a chair leg

dovetailing into
the song he sings

as the wood listens
to every syllable

as if his singing
coaxed into being

chair leg...window frame
stool or saddle.

"Oh believe me if al those
endearing young charms..."

and the wood swoons
to his planing

'''...that I gaze at so
fondly today."

Moore's melodies and pine
reaches back in time

to grasp
the moment

lost to my mind
but now returning

to its rightful place
as wood becomes chair leg

to my father's
singing



BELIEVE ME IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING YOUNG CHARMS

Air—My Lodging is on the cold Ground

I.
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
    Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
    Like fairy-gifts fading away,—
Thou wouldst still be ador'd as this moment thou art,
    Let thy loveliness fade as it will;
And, around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
    Would entwine itself verdantly still!

II.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
    And thy cheeks unprofan'd by a tear,
That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known,
    To which time will but make thee more dear!
Oh! the heart, that has truly lov'd, never forgets,
    But as truly loves on to the close;
As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets,
    The same look which she turn'd when he rose!
Donall Dempsey Aug 2018
AS THIS MOMENT THOU ART

The wood shavings curl &
curl to my father's voice

as he sings to the wood
releasing its scent

wave upon wave
of pine

crashing upon
this shore of summer

its morning long ago
forgotten.

This wood will shape shift
into a chair leg

dovetailing into
the song he sings

as the wood listens
to every syllable

as if his singing
coaxed into being

chair leg...window frame
stool or saddle.

"Oh believe me if all those
endearing young charms..."

and the wood swoons
to his planing

'''...that I gaze at so
fondly today."

Moore's melodies and pine
reaches back in time

to grasp
the moment

lost to my mind
but now returning

to its rightful place
as wood becomes chair leg

to my father's
singing.
Donall Dempsey Aug 2019
AS THIS MOMENT THOU ART

The wood shavings curl &
curl to my father's voice

as he sings to the wood
releasing its scent

wave upon wave
of pine

crashing upon
this shore of summer

its morning long ago
forgotten.

This wood will shape shift
into a chair leg

dovetailing into
the song he sings

as the wood listens
to every syllable

as if his singing
coaxed into being

chair leg...window frame
stool or saddle.

"Oh believe me if all those
endearing young charms..."

and the wood swoons
to his planing

'''...that I gaze at so
fondly today."

Moore's melodies and pine
reaches back in time

to grasp
the moment

lost to my mind
but now returning

to its rightful place
as wood becomes chair leg

to my father's
singing.
Donall Dempsey Oct 2015
The wood shavings curl &
curl to my father's voice

as he sings to the wood
releasing its scent

wave upon wave
of pine

crashing upon
this shore of summer

its morning long
forgotten.

This wood will shape shift
into a chair leg

dovetailing into
the song he sings

as the wood listens
to every syllable

as if his singing
coaxed into being

chair leg...window frame
stool or saddle.

"Oh believe me if al those
endearing young charms..."

and the wood swoons
to his planning

'''...that I gaze at so
fondly today."

Moore's melodies and pine
reaches back in time

to grasp
the moment

lost to my mind
but now returning

to its rightful place
as wood becomes chair leg

to my father's
singing.
There would be no stop and sing time or now we are singing time...songs and poems were threaded through needle's eye of reality and stitched into my consciousness. Moore's melodies and such arrived in the act of planing wood or digging potatoes or making a bicycle from scratch from scraps found abandoned. The Da was an inveterate shed maker and anything that could be built in a shed and a great maker of bicycles...a bike for all ten of us! The songs and poems flowed through the ordinary process of the day which I through an emotional osmosis soaked up through my very being...music mapping the invisible landscape of the hidden self.

After Thomas Moore's wife, Elizabeth, was badly scarred by smallpox, she refused to leave her room, believing herself ugly and unlovable. To convince her his love was unwavering, Moore composed the ‘Endearing’ poem which he set to an old Irish melody and sang outside her bedroom door. He later wrote that this restored her confidence and re-kindled their love.

BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy-gifts, fading away!
Thou wouldst still be ador'd as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will;
And, around the dear ruin, each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still!
II.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofan'd by a tear,
That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear!
Oh! the heart, that has truly lov'd, never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close;
As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets,
The same look which she turn'd when he rose!

When the Kintetsu Yoshino Line's special express Type 16600 or Type 26000 "Sakura Liner" trains depart Asuka Station (in Asuka, Takaichi District, Nara Prefecture, Japan) a rendition of the tune is played within the train to announce departure. In Japan, the tune is also known as "Shine with the Flowers of Spring Days".
Donall Dempsey Aug 2024
AS THIS MOMENT THOU ART

The wood shavings curl &
curl to my father's voice

as he sings to the wood
releasing its scent

wave upon wave
of pine

crashing upon
this shore of summer

its morning long ago
forgotten.

This wood will shape shift
into a chair leg

dovetailing into
the song he sings

as the wood listens
to every syllable

as if his singing
coaxed into being

chair leg...window frame
stool or saddle.

"Oh believe me if all those
endearing young charms..."

and the wood swoons
to his planing

'''...that I gaze at so
fondly today."

Moore's melodies and pine
reaches back in time

to grasp
the moment

lost to my mind
but now returning

to its rightful place
as wood becomes chair leg

to my father's
singing.
Donall Dempsey Aug 2020
AS THIS MOMENT THOU ART

The wood shavings curl &
curl to my father's voice

as he sings to the wood
releasing its scent

wave upon wave
of pine

crashing upon
this shore of summer

its morning long ago
forgotten.

This wood will shape shift
into a chair leg

dovetailing into
the song he sings

as the wood listens
to every syllable

as if his singing
coaxed into being

chair leg...window frame
stool or saddle.

"Oh believe me if all those
endearing young charms..."

and the wood swoons
to his planing

'''...that I gaze at so
fondly today."

Moore's melodies and pine
reaches back in time

to grasp
the moment

lost to my mind
but now returning

to its rightful place
as wood becomes chair leg

to my father's
singing.
Donall Dempsey Apr 2024
A STITCH IN TIME

Memory
passes through
the eye of the needle

I purse my lips
coat the thread
with spit

one eye
closed
one eye open

pass it like a baton
to my mother sewing
on  a loose button

the needle
a little silver fish
dashes in

and out
a frayed
shirt cuf

I walk down a street
in New York
as memory

whisks me back
to an Irish kitchen
a kettle whistling

and my mother cursing
"Ahhh son can you
thread that for me!"
Donall Dempsey Apr 2021
A STITCH IN TIME

Memory passes through
the eye of the needle.

I purse my lips
coat the thread with spit.

One eye closed.
One eye open.

Pass it like a baton
to my mother

sewing on
a loose button.

The needle
a little silver fish

dashes in and out
a frayed shirt cuff/

I walk down a street
in New York

as memory
whisks me back

to an Irish kitchen
a kettle whistling

and my mother cursing
"Ahhh son can you thread that for me!"
Donall Dempsey Aug 2017
"...A STRAIGHT LINE DRAWN CROOKEDLY INSIDE ME..."
( for David Olof Carney )

"Six months, if that...eh?"
inside the cancer
eating him cell by cell

life now
a death sentence
he couldn't live with it

"If it be now..."
Hamlet's solliquoy
comes to mind

in the car crash
his last laugh: "Thank you God!
You're a good sport!"
The title is taken from Alvaro De Campos aka Fernando Pessoa's  MARITIME ODE.

"But the song is a straight line drawn crookedly inside me.."


Curiously enough my friend Jan survived both the crash and the cancer. He thought he was dead on both accounts but would have preferred the car crash as a way to go.

But he pulled through at the last moment which as it happened wasn't his ...last moment. He fought bravely against his cancer and life still has its grip on him ten years down the road.

He's beginning to think he will never die. Don't know whether that's a good or a bad thing! But yes Jan lives on....long live Jan!

"Quelle douleur incroyable, et quelle joie incroyable! "
Donall Dempsey Aug 2024
"...A STRAIGHT LINE DRAWN CROOKEDLY INSIDE ME..."
( for David Olof Carney )

"Six months, if that...eh?"
inside the cancer
eating him cell by cell

life now
a death sentence
he couldn't live with it

"If it be now..."
Hamlet's solliquoy
comes to mind

in the car crash
his last laugh: "Thank you God!
You're a good sport!"

*

The title is taken from Alvaro De Campos aka Fernando Pessoa's  MARITIME ODE.

"But the song is a straight line drawn crookedly inside me.."

Curiously enough my friend Jan survived both the crash and the cancer. He thought he was dead on both accounts but would have preferred the car crash as a way to go.

But he pulled through at the last moment which as it happened wasn't his ...last moment. He fought bravely against his cancer and life still has its grip on him ten years down the road.

He's beginning to think he will never die. Don't know whether that's a good or a bad thing! But yes Jan lives on....long live Jan!
Donall Dempsey Nov 2023
"...AS TREES WALKING . . ."

the goldfish ponders
the world the other side of the glass
retires to its castle

it watches the coming
& goings of us
unable to explain our existence

"...I see men as trees walking. . ."
the vicar reads
his thought visible to the fishes

"...but what does it mean?"
one fish asks the other
"...and what are - trees?"

the vicar dies
in his sleep
words still floating about in his head

the fish unable to explain
his stillness....loudly
the clock talks in tick tocks

the God hand
that feeds them...does not
come

hungry for answers
they cease
to believe

Time
darkens
whitens

& again
darkens
whitens

it all goes belly up
the dead vicar & his dead fish
frightening the home help

only the plastic Christ
nailed to the wall
hears her scream
Donall Dempsey Nov 2019
"...AS TREES WALKING . . ."

the goldfish ponders
the world the other side of the glass
retires to its castle

it watches the coming
& goings of us
unable to explain our existence

"...I see men as trees walking. . ."
the vicar reads
his thought visible to the fishes

"...but what does it mean?"
one fish asks the other
"...and what are - trees?"

the vicar dies
in his sleep
words still floating about in his head

the fish unable to explain
his stillness....loudly
the clock talks in tick tocks

the God hand
that feeds them...does not
come

hungry for answers
they cease
to believe

Time
darkens
whitens

& again
darkens
whitens

it all goes belly up
the dead vicar & his dead fish
frightening the home help

only the plastic Christ
nailed to the wall
hears her scream
Donall Dempsey Nov 2022
"...AS TREES WALKING . . ."

the goldfish ponders
the world the other side of the glass
retires to its castle

it watches the coming
& goings of us
unable to explain our existence

"...I see men as trees walking. . ."
the vicar reads
his thought visible to the fishes

"...but what does it mean?"
one fish asks the other
"...and what are - trees?"

the vicar dies
in his sleep
words still floating about in his head

the fish unable to explain
his stillness....loudly
the clock talks in tick tocks

the God hand
that feeds them...does not
come

hungry for answers
they cease
to believe

Time
darkens
whitens

& again
darkens
whitens

it all goes belly up
the dead vicar & his dead fish
frightening the home help

only the plastic Christ
nailed to the wall
hears her scream
Donall Dempsey Nov 2015
"...AS TREES WALKING . . ."

the goldfish ponders
the world the other side of the glass
retires to its castle

it watches the coming
& goings of us
unable to explain our existence

"...I see men as trees walking. . ."
the vicar reads
his thought visible to the fishes

"...but what does it mean?"
one fish asks the other
"...and what are - trees?"

the vicar dies
in his sleep
words still floating about in his head

the fish unable to explain
his stillness....loudly
the clock talks in tick tocks

the God hand
that feeds them...does not
come

hungry for answers
they cease
to believe

Time
darkens
whitens

& again
darkens
whitens

it all goes belly up
the dead vicar & his dead fish
frightening the home help

only the plastic Christ
nailed to the wall
hears her scream
Donall Dempsey Nov 2017
"...AS TREES WALKING . . ."

the goldfish ponders
the world the other side of the glass
retires to its castle

it watches the coming
& goings of us
unable to explain our existence

"...I see men as trees walking. . ."
the vicar reads
his thought visible to the fishes

"...but what does it mean?"
one fish asks the other
"...and what are - trees?"

the vicar dies
in his sleep
words still floating about in his head

the fish unable to explain
his stillness....loudly
the clock talks in tick tocks

the God hand
that feeds them...does not
come

hungry for answers
they cease
to believe

Time
darkens
whitens

& again
darkens
whitens

it all goes belly up
the dead vicar & his dead fish
frightening the home help

only the plastic Christ
nailed to the wall
hears her scream
The answers are just other questions. The camera just walks through the scene impartially and even the goldfish have as much an opinion as the dying human

The vicar of course is reading.Mark 8:24 from the King James Bible.

"And he said unto them, How is it that ye do not understand? And he cometh to Bethsaida; and they bring a blind man unto him, and besought him to touch him. And he took the blind man by the hand, and led him out of the town; and when he had spit on his eyes, and put his hands upon him, he asked him if he saw ought. And he looked up, and said, I see men as trees, walking. After that he put his hands again upon his eyes, and made him look up: and he was restored, and saw every man clear!"

The fish of course only believe in the Hand that feeds them...he is their God but their entire fishy universe is going to go awry. God is dead is the message they are receiving but finding it hard believing.
Donall Dempsey Nov 2024
"...AS TREES WALKING . . ."

the goldfish ponders
the world the other side of the glass
retires to its castle

it watches the coming
& goings of us
unable to explain our existence

"...I see men as trees walking. . ."
the vicar reads
his thought visible to the fishes

"...but what does it mean?"
one fish asks the other
"...and what are - trees?"

the vicar dies
in his sleep
words still floating about in his head

the fish unable to explain
his stillness....loudly
the clock talks in tick tocks

the God hand
that feeds them...does not
come

hungry for answers
they cease
to believe

Time
darkens
whitens

& again
darkens
whitens

it all goes belly up
the dead vicar & his dead fish
frightening the home help

only the plastic Christ
nailed to the wall
hears her scream
Donall Dempsey Sep 2015
A cluster
(is that the correct term
for the collective noun)  

a cluster
of butterflies?

Maybe it should be
a joy of butterflies

a surprise of butterflies.

My little girl
amazed

as they invade
our garden

even settling upon
her
as if she were

a walking
flower.

She young enough
to believe

these
are the fairies

one reads about.

Imagination
& Reality

for this one
(moment)  

becoming
One.
******

A kindle of kittens...a watch of nightingales...a sulk of foxes! I love the surprising collectives...they are almost surreal.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2017
A SURPRISE OF BUTTERFLIES

A cluster
(is that the correct term
for the collective noun)  

a cluster
of butterflies?

Maybe it should be
a joy of butterflies

a surprise of butterflies.

My little girl
amazed

as they invade
our garden

even settling upon
her
as if she were

a walking
flower.

She young enough
to believe

these
are the fairies

one reads about.

Imagination
& Reality

for this one
(moment)  

becoming
One.


A kindle of kittens...a watch of nightingales...a sulk of foxes! I love the surprising collectives...they are almost surreal.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2019
A SURPRISE OF BUTTERFLIES

A cluster
(is that the correct term
for the collective noun)  

a cluster
of butterflies?

Maybe it should be
a joy of butterflies

a surprise of butterflies.

My little girl
amazed

as they invade
our garden

even settling upon
her
as if she were

a walking
flower.

She young enough
to believe

these
are the fairies

one reads about.

Imagination
& Reality

for this one
(moment)  

becoming
One.
******
A kindle of kittens...a watch of nightingales...a sulk of foxes! I love the surprising collectives...they are almost surreal.
Donall Dempsey Oct 2015
Always
your love

everywhere
around me

tangible & intangible

as when
sound
becomes music.

As a child
they asked me

what I wanted
to be

when I grew up

and I ran through
all the obvious choices

a cowboy man
a doctor man
a spy man
a hero man
an astronaut man

but there was
always only

one choice.

I wanted to be
you.

So I blurted out
my child's answer:


'A Daddy! '

The adults laughed
not knowing how serious
I was.

I wanted to be
the Daddy
my Dad was.

I wanted to love someone
as much as
he loved me.

I still feel
my 7 year old hand in his

as the camera clicks
and captures our smiles.

Me beaming bursting with pride!

'This is my Dad! This is my Dad! '

Always
his love

everywhere
around me

tangible & intangible

as when

sound

becomes

music.
Donall Dempsey Mar 2018
AS YOU STARE INTO THE VACUUM OF HIS EYES

some stones
having a chat
"Shhhh....here's a human!"

the human stares
the stones remain
sthum

the human reaches for
one of them...then:
skims it across the lake

"Whoa....wheee...hee hee!"
screams the stone
but no one hears

the human has been &
gone
the stones stunned into silence

"I wish he'd chosen me!"
the fat stone says
"I always wanted to travel!"

bottom of the lake
a stone chats to fishes
misses the stones he knew
Donall Dempsey Feb 2024
AS YOU STARE INTO THE VACUUM OF HIS EYES

some stones
having a chat
"Shhhh....here's a human!"

the human stares
the stones remain
sthum

the human reaches for
one of them...then:
skims it across the lake

"Whoa....wheee...hee hee!"
screams the stone
but no one hears

the human has been &
gone
the stones stunned into silence

"I wish he'd chosen me!"
the fat stone says
"I always wanted to travel!"

bottom of the lake
a stone chats to fishes
misses the stones he knew
Donall Dempsey Feb 2019
AS YOU STARE INTO THE VACUUM OF HIS EYES

some stones
having a chat
"Shhhh....here's a human!"

the human stares
the stones remain
sthum

the human reaches for
one of them...then:
skims it across the lake

"Whoa....wheee...hee hee!"
screams the stone
but no one hears

the human has been &
gone
the stones stunned into silence

"I wish he'd chosen me!"
the fat stone says
"I always wanted to travel!"

bottom of the lake
a stone chats to fishes
misses the stones he knew
Donall Dempsey Mar 2022
AS YOU STARE INTO THE VACUUM OF HIS EYES


some stones
having a chat
"Shhhh....here's a human!"


the human stares
the stones remain
sthum


the human reaches for
one of them...then:
skims it across the lake


"Whoa....wheee...hee hee!"
screams the stone
but no one hears

the human has been &
gone
the stones stunned into silence


"I wish he'd chosen me!"
the fat stone says
"I always wanted to travel!"


bottom of the lake
a stone chats to fishes
misses the stones he knew
Donall Dempsey Feb 2019
AS YOU STARE INTO THE VACUUM OF HIS EYES

some stones
having a chat
"Shhhh....here's a human!"

the human stares
the stones remain
sthum

the human reaches for
one of them...then:
skims it across the lake

"Whoa....wheee...hee hee!"
screams the stone
but no one hears

the human has been &
gone
the stones stunned into silence

"I wish he'd chosen me!"
the fat stone says
"I always wanted to travel!"

bottom of the lake
a stone chats to fishes
misses the stones he knew
Donall Dempsey Jul 2021
A TALE OF TWO BUDS

little brother
you will grow
to be the bigger man

but now here we are
I all skinny spindly legs
you "squashed into yourself"

and we always known
as Big and Little
Bud

as in "Are ya ready Bud?"
"With ya now Bud!"
"Ok...let's go Bud!"

until you come of age
and the Big and Little
change places

I now the little-er
to your Big Bud-ness
you now the expert in how to be

only Death
waiting in the shadows
of this photograph

shuffles the cards of self
and I am once again
your big brother
Donall Dempsey Jun 2024
A TALE OF TWO EXPECTATIONS

Miss Havisham
clearing the cobwebs
escapes the book

"Wot de. . " says Dickens
"I don't like the way I am written!"
Miss H has left the page

"You can stuff yer great expectations
up yer. . .! she screams at him
... "Now...now . . .language...language!"

Miss Havisham is having a spring clean
of her mind
turning over a new leaf

"I'm flesh and blood!" she claims
"Not just this thing
made of words!"

Dickens pins her
to the page
with words

"You'll read as you
are written!" he demands
"By God madam...who's the author here!"

Miss H peering out
from behind the bars
of her print

Miss H
walking up and down
the cage of her page

Miss H
haunts the words
she appears in

Miss H
demanding a different
ending

Miss H
setting herself alight
the smell of burning words

Dickens falls asleep
she elopes with Heathcliff
from that other book

Heathcliff and Miss H
break up it was
never gonna work

Heathcliff still
carrying a torch
for "Cathy. . !"

whilst Dickens snores
she has it off with
Pip

Dickens awakes
writes the final word
she's trapped within THE END
Donall Dempsey Apr 2021
AT A LOSS FOR WORDS

somehow it all goes
wRoNg

Prospero's brother kills Prospero
this time around

Miranda is ***** by Caliban

Sycorax reclaims
the isle

I imprisoned again
within the pine

the cowslip crushed
beneath unseeing feet.

Where is a Shakespeare
when one needs one?
Donall Dempsey Nov 2020
ATARAXIA

Felis Catus blinks
"The Tories think
( I didn't know they could do that)


we are not sentient beings
or that we do not feel pain?
Only shows they have no brains!


'Unheimleich' as Heidegger
would have observed!"
she purrs...delicately...cleans herself.


"Your philosophy is
your  fail-osophy...
you simply think too much.


Think instead of do
and you can't do without thinking.
Poor poor you!


Be like me.
Just be.
Be.


Only when you play
with me do you
escape being human.


I am your distraction
from the prison of your self
just stop your self thinking

live in this
instant
no before or after.

Ah 'the great chain of being'
placing your self at the top
oh so smugly superior.


Our feline-osophy
would be if at all
not to have a philosophy.


As Montaigne  put it
so succinctly  you 'needed
a mind departing distraction"


to deal with your consciousness
and awareness of death.
And I my friend - am it!

Now if you can be
a good chap and feed me
that can be my fee

for talking you through
your all too human dilemmas
and you may yet achieve

(perhaps)ataraxia
but until then or when we cats
learn to peel the foil

from Kitty Kat Salmon
and so leap to the top
of the 'great chain of being."

Felis Catus
will rule
over all.


*

ATARAXIA....a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility.
ATARAXIA....a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility.
Donall Dempsey Jan 2024
ATHBHLIAIN FAOI MHAISE

she hadn't spoken
to another human soul
for she didn't know

how long now
her words covered
with dust

like the china shepherdess
tending her flock
on the mantlepiece

her thoughts
were rusted
into place

her mind
unable to
move

oh she talked
to the cat but
it wasn't interested

in a word
she had to say
only wanting to be fed

she sat so still
in her distressed
green velvet gown

as if she had time
travelled from
another century

and that time
had abandoned
her here

she imagined that
one day Death
would come calling

and like a real
gentleman he would
take her away from

all this
as the New Year
entered the room

and the dark
exploding
with fireworks
Donall Dempsey Oct 2017
A THIN LINE THAT DAWNS
( for Marion )

The Future a landscape I
needs must

travel through to
understand the moment and

what it brings
what I can take from it

what I can take it
to.

This the Loveless Land
that has to be

known and
left behind.

Here, Loneliness
rears up

sheer, impassable

now a cliff face
now a chasm.

I journey to a me
I am

yet to be

who knows this time
as a past

she has travelled through
and arrived at a self

fashioned from
a certain sadness

the what's gone wrong
the what's gone is gone.

Happiness that
constant construct

we create and
re-create

so that a self
emerges even from a grief

and that this present loss
is now but a place on a map

an X that
marks a spot

treasure being
the understanding

that I own
I an emotional alchemist

turning loss to gold

to make me
the me I am

the horizon
a thin line

that dawns
Donall Dempsey Oct 2016
A THIN LINE THAT DAWNS
( for Marion )

The Future a landscape I
needs must

travel through to
understand the moment and

what it brings
what I can take from it

what I can take it
to.

This the Loveless Land
that has to be

known and
left behind.

Here, Loneliness
rears up

sheer, impassable

now a cliff face
now a chasm.

I journey to a me
I am

yet to be

who knows this time
as a past

she has travelled through
and arrived at a self

fashioned from
a certain sadness

the what's gone wrong
the what's gone is gone.

Happiness that
constant construct

we create and
re-create

so that a self
emerges even from a grief

and that this present loss
is now but a place on a map

an X that
marks a spot

treasure being
the understanding

that I own
I an emotional alchemist

turning loss to gold

to make me
the me I am

the horizon
a thin line

that dawns
Donall Dempsey Feb 2020
A THIN SLICE OF HAM IN THE HAND IS
BETTER THAN A FAT PIG IN A DREAM.

"Never bolt your door
with a boiled carrot!"

as Uncle would say
with a wink

tongue in cheek.

It didn't make any sense
as our door was always

open
we never knew it

( locked ).

And I liked my carrots
raw and stolen

plucked from my father's
little plot

he perplexed
by little human rabbits.

His mud caked boots
standing amazed

as we hid holding
our breaths(

)amongst the flowering
Kerr's Pinks.

But "poets and pigs
are only appreciated

after
their death."

As they say.

Whoever 'they"
were?

But as I always
say:

"Don't be after breaking
your shin on a stool

that isn't
...there!"
Donall Dempsey Oct 2017
A THIN SLICE OF HAM IN THE HAND IS
BETTER THAN A FAT PIG IN A DREAM.

"Never bolt your door
with a boiled carrot!"

as Uncle would say
with a wink

tongue in cheek.

It didn't make any sense
as our door was always

open
we never knew it

( locked ).

And I liked my carrots
raw and stolen

plucked from my father's
little plot

he perplexed
by little human rabbits.

His mud caked boots
standing amazed

as we hid holding
our breaths(

)amongst the flowering
Kerr's Pinks.

But "poets and pigs
are only appreciated

after
their death."

As they say.

Whoever 'they"
were?

But as I always
say:

"Don't be after breaking
your shin on a stool

that isn't
...there!"
Donall Dempsey Jul 2015
A THIN SLICE OF HAM IN THE HAND IS BETTER THAN A FAT PIG IN A DREAM.

"Never bolt your door
with a boiled carrot!"

as Uncle would say
with a wink

tongue in cheek.

It didn't make any sense
as our door was always

open
we never knew it

( locked ).

And I liked my carrots
raw and stolen

plucked from my father's
little plot

he perplexed
by little human rabbits.

His mud caked boots
standing amazed

as we hid holding
our breaths(

)amongst the flowering
Kerr's Pinks.

But "poets and pigs
are only appreciated

after
their death."

As they say.

Whoever 'they"
were?

But as I always
say:

"Don't be after breaking
your shin on a stool

that isn't
...there!"
https://youtu.be/68vpnNFdtEI
Donall Dempsey Sep 2023
A TIDY MAN

My  ghost came
to see me off.

"Just thought I
would introduce myself.

"You see...I'm you
in a few hours time

when you've shaken off
( as the cliche goes )

this mortal coil
as it were."

"Is this the done thing?"
I enquired politely

"...not to sure of
the protocol...so to speak?"

"I'm not used to being dead..."
I excused myself.

"Oh it's the new Heavenly Scheme
introduced by Him Above!"

I tried to catch my breath.
Found I couldn't.

"Oh well...let's
get on with it!"

So I hung my soul up
on the back of the door.

The wardrobe was packed tight
with all the selves I'd ever been.

I folded my life up
neatly.

I was always
and forever

a tidy man.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
A TIDY MAN

My  ghost came
to see me off.

"Just thought I
would introduce myself.

"You see...I'm you
in a few hours time

when you've shaken off
( as the cliche goes )

this mortal coil
as it were."

"Is this the done thing?"
I enquired politely

"...not to sure of
the protocol...so to speak?"

"I'm not used to being dead..."
I excused myself.

"Oh it's the new Heavenly Scheme
introduced by Him Above!"

I tried to catch my breath.
Found I couldn't.

"Oh well...let's
get on with it!"

So I hung my soul up
on the back of the door.

The wardrobe was packed tight
with all the selves I'd ever been.

I folded my life up
neatly.

I was always
and forever

a tidy man.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2024
A TIDY MAN

My  ghost came
to see me off.

"Just thought I
would introduce myself.

"You see...I'm you
in a few hours time

when you've shaken off
( as the cliche goes )

this mortal coil
as it were."

"Is this the done thing?"
I enquired politely

"...not too sure of
the protocol...so to speak?"

"I'm not used to being dead..."
I excused myself.

"Oh it's the new Heavenly Scheme
introduced by Him Above!"

I tried to catch my breath.
Found I couldn't.

"Oh well...let's
get on with it!"

So I hung my soul up
on the back of the door.

The wardrobe was packed tight
with all the selves I'd ever been.

I folded my life up
neatly.

I was always
and forever

a tidy man.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2019
A TIDY MAN

My  ghost came
to see me off.

"Just thought I
would introduce myself.

"You see...I'm you
in a few hours time

when you've shaken off
( as the cliche goes )

this mortal coil
as it were."

"Is this the done thing?"
I enquired politely

"...not to sure of
the protocol...so to speak?"

"I'm not used to being dead..."
I excused myself.

"Oh it's the new Heavenly Scheme
introduced by Him Above!"

I tried to catch my breath.
Found I couldn't.

"Oh well...let's
get on with it!"

So I hung my soul up
on the back of the door.

The wardrobe was packed tight
with all the selves I'd ever been.

I folded my life up
neatly.

I was always
and forever

a tidy man.
Donall Dempsey Jan 2017
ATLASES OF THE MIND

an Atlantic ocean of a sky
clouds creating creatures
from a crazy Book of Kells

all carved from the pages
of the living Now
AT LEAST WE'LL  ALWAYS  HAVE GUILDFORD

Ahhhh Love...
I never needed to go
to fantastic destinations
exquisite places
such sights to see

You:
were always my only
place to be
the where I wanted to be
no need for me to travel
seeing I was already there
you all my exotic wonders
a cup of Earl Grey and thee

all I ever wanted  was
your smile blossoming into laughter
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