' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' Vizhdam Vi...(I See You...) (For Onelia) Poem by Dónall Dempsey

'Did you know..? '
says ALICE

'...that Lacie is a
an anagram of me! '

She follows me
through Sofia's streets

as my camera clicks
'curiouser and curiouser'

taking pictures
of reflections

the passing world
stopped and stilled

in windows
mirroring reality

back to itself

marrying one
to the other.

'Krasiv! '
whispers the street
to its other image.

'Yes...yes! '
I hear myself

answer her
as she falls

out of my pocket
(the wind reading her)

its unseen hands
riffling through her pages.

ALICE as real
to me as I am myself

... friend of my childhood.

'And in predictive text...'
I offer my fictional friend

'I change sex
becoming...'

'Enid or Ethel or
one of the other.'

Like a doormouse
in a teapot

my mobile goes to sleep.

Like a grin
without a cat

her laughter
lingers.

This road's yellow
bricks escort me to

an OZ
of words

where an alphabet
dances in Cyrillic

its strange shapes
delighting my eyes

teasing me
with its sense

of real
Unreality.

I catch
a ray of sunshine

stealing into church

saying the little prayer
of itself.

Icons emerge
from the dark

as I walk
through the passing

...of ages.

One icon looks
like Berbatov

on his transfer
to Manchester United.

'Krasiv! '
whispers a leaf

...in its falling.

'Krasiv! '
whistles the little bird

enjoying a steam bath
in the hot springs

...behind the Mosque.

Saint Sofia
guides us

through her streets
we look to her

for our
bearings

knowing where we are
when we find her

standing in the sky

stopping to let a cloud
pass by.

'Krasiv! '
Sveta Sofia blesses us

'Krasiv! '

In the park
a man in a hat & a Mac

chases people
for chess

offering his pieces
as if they were a gift

inviting Time to stop
& play.

And when passers by
pass by

he invites himself
to play an invisible 'him.'

His unseen self see
pondering its next move.

The timer releasing
the world

back to itself
where naked

statues shiver
in the park

throw snowballs
at each other

when a human
isn't looking.

A toddler
(as yet unsure)

of all this
'walking business'

tastes
each cautious step

as if
sipping soup

too hot

sip (sip)
step (step) .

The park is
melting

revealing itself
as it thaws...thaws

ice & snow
releasing its stranglehold

slinking slyly
away.

Outside the theater
snow has been swept up

into neat
pyramids

as if they were an Art
installation.

I listen entranced
to my friend's voice

a woman made only
of words & thoughts

(paper & E-mails)

now made real
by the beauty of her self.

'Krasiv! '
whispers her smile

to the secret
that she is.

'DA! DA! DA! '
chortles a yellow & black

tram as it 'Yes! Yes! Yes's! '
around the bend.

Back at the hotel
my ALICE sleeps

dreaming of when
I will read her.

A book on a bed
in an empty room

chatting to a shaft
of Bulgarian sunshine.

And always
ALICE is

...asking:

'Do you know
what tomorrow is..? '

And I say 'Yes...yes...yes!
to everything! '

'Tomorrow is all
I can imagine it

to be
&
more! '

Sofia sheds now
her clothes of snow

strips down
to her sunlight

& dances...dances.

'Krasiv! '
'Krasiv! '

her dancing translates
finally the word

'Krasiv
is...
beautiful! '

And it is
...it is! .