This Is The Night Poem by Dónall Dempsey

This Is The Night



After the performance
they tumbled together

entangled each with
the other
still thrilled
drunken laughter
stains the air

with splashes of vulgarity
here & there
cats like stone statues
stare sullenly
scattered among this
Venetian square.

The night is warm
& wears the perfume
of flowers in its hair.
A moon plays
peek a boo

hides behind clouds & churches.
A gondola frets in its sleep
tries to escape its mooring.

A kiss exists
in the darkness

oddly theatrically audible

yet without bodies
to support it
it drifts loudly invisible.
The lips of waves sip at the city
whisper secrets.

The puppets
not saying anything
are untangled
with curses

bundled into
colourful boxes
speckled with
luminous stars
& various universes.

The night, for the moment
is over
and the crowd disperses

some coupled tightly
others walk only with their shadows.
The puppets smile
quietly.

They’ve seen it
all before.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ronald Ssekajja K 27 June 2007

Its a good poem whoes meaning is hard to come by, please shall your poetry with me, and also read mine and advise. you poetry is so original I can't compare it

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Dónall Dempsey

Dónall Dempsey

Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.
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