Dónall Dempsey

Veteran Poet - 1,546 Points (15/07/56 / Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.)

'The Soul Trilogy(For Helen) - Poem by Dónall Dempsey


The soul
fed up with its own


decides to take a holiday
from being itself

to just...being.

It grows a body
first the toes & then

& so on & so on...

It just says so

'And the word was made flesh! '
it laughs to itself

pronouncing each part
clearly & distinctily.

Then it toasts
some wholemeal bread lightly

melts some cheddar cheese
untill it bubbles

tops it all with some half-cut cherry tomatoes
flecked with freshly cut carlic & sprinkled with basil

settles down
on the comfy couch

ouch...skins a shin against
that always potententally dangerous

low flying coffe table

& then begins
to read Emily Dickenson.

'Mmmmm! ' smiles the soul. 'Mmmmmm! '



The soul
fed up to its eyeteeth

with its own

& having become
a body

in order to divine
just what being



was amazed to see Venice
erased by mist

as if God
having done a quick preliminary sketch

still...wasn't satisfied
with it

& rubbed it out to begin

God was always such
a perfectionist.

The soul thought God
had gotten it just


& should have left it
just as it is.

The soul stamped
its feet

against the cold

drank a quick deliciously
thick Espresso

& had its photo
taken at San Marco

amongst the flocks
of pigeons & Janapese tourists.

The soul
kissed the lips

of the woman
it loved

& almost cried
in disbelief at

'...how wonderful
it is! '

Later, that night
the soul slept soundly

wrapped in the arms
of this naked little lady.

Never ever
was the soul so

glad to have
a human body

that hungered so
for the body

of this strange
impossible other.

Slowly sleep
(although it did not wish it to)

erased the soul's thoughts

as easily as God
with little touches of mist

erases Venice.

Now the soul learned
what it is to


& dreamed &



The soul
fed up & bored

with its own immortality

& curious to
taste mortality

(as humans do)

had grown
a body

but had, as Time
dragged on

grown weary of
the experiment

even further fed up

with this mesh
of flesh & thought

that being



The soul(eager now)
to escape this human construct

longed to be

to be
only itself


So, finding itself one day
in the Dorsoduro district

of Venice

the soul searched church
after church

for some semblance
of itself

the haven
of itself

but Heaven was not to be
found among stone.

Footsore & weary
(damn this all too solid too too tired flesh)

this all too human

& hungry for more
of what cannot be

but needs must be

it slumped(eyes shut tight)
in the Chiesa San Vidal

unaware of humans
filling the emptiness

with longing


Suddenly...a vibration
of the air

nothing less nothing

but oh so very very

stripped the soul
of its flesh

allowing it
once more

to be

The soul
started crying.

The cellist bowed
to the soul

& the soul bowed back
to the cellist

both becoming
now the music

...la musica!

Comments about 'The Soul Trilogy(For Helen) by Dónall Dempsey

  • (12/23/2008 5:47:00 AM)

    And now I say with a broad grin: -] an even bigger thank you as I realise this poem was for me! So silly of me not to notice the title! ! Thank you, thank you, thank you... HG: -) xx (Report)Reply

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  • (12/23/2008 5:40:00 AM)

    Donall, your poems are always such a scrummy treat to the senses (and the soul) ...... but now, of course, I want some cheese and toast with cherry tomatoes and garlic and herbs ...! ! ! Lovely poem - all the best for the festive season. HG: -) xx (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • (12/23/2008 5:39:00 AM)

    WOW and mmmmm and me smiling (bright smile) after reading the first lovely lines: The soul
    fed up with its own


    decides to take a holiday
    from being itself

    to just...being.

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Poem Edited: Friday, January 9, 2009

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