Gary Devenney is a poet whose journey with spoken word began during lockdown.Though life pulled him away from poetry, he found his way back to the page after the heartbreaking loss of his partner, Fiona, to whom he dedicates all his writing. His work delves into love, grief, and mental health, weaving raw emotion with the influence of Dermot Kennedy’s poetic intensity. Beyond poetry, he is the Head of Football Development, an avid reader of psychology, philosophy, and romantic fiction, and finds solace in long walks along the North Coast of Northern Ireland—especially Portstewart Strand, his safe haven.
I Talk to Trees
I talk to the trees.
I peel off the loose hanging bark
and fold back the branches.
Beside the wet moss, under a weathered sky,
I tell her: I am the grey squirrel.
We have whispered conversations
in moments only we understand.
I tell her that Paris, Lake Garda, and Sorrento
live in the stars.
I tell her the ocean holds the sky,
and my heart is a sail-less ship,
a vault buried six feet deep,
and a kite in a storm.
I tell her time is man-made,
that you never walk in the same river twice.
I tell her black swans are rare,
that dolphins can hear two kilometres in the distance,
and that the colour of the sky
has nothing to do with the ocean.
I tell her about the sounds of Shipquay Street
during the jazz festival—
how the wind sings through the barriers of the quay.
I tidy her leaves and wrap my arms around her.
She makes a soft crinkle sound
that makes me think of laughter.
I tell her: you were the song my heart sang
the night we first met.
Tonight, the sun wrestles with the moon.
The dew soaks my socks.
I tell her they will plant me next to her,
and our roots will meet
to hold us together forever.
Through Frost and Fire
I want you when your winter is dark and long,
and when frost hangs from each breath.
When the crunch of ice keeps you unstable,
and the snow pelts against your forehead.
When the cold nibbles at your nose,
and the freezing wind batters against your ears.
When naked trees reach into the clear night sky,
with nothing but moonlight clothing their bark.
I want you when the world has numbed your heart
and forced it to beat in wintry isolation.
I want you when your summer is sultry and humid.
When beads of sweat trickle down your sweet cheeks.
When the blazing sun scorches the grass,
and bumblebees search for nectar.
When warm nights offer no sleep,
and open windows offer no reprieve.
When your skin sticks to the leather couch,
and your eyes squint in the sunlight.
And.
I want you when your winter is warm and pleasant.
When the frost softens,
and your breath floats patiently on a windless day.
When your infectious laughter breaks the silence.
When the glow of your smile casts dancing silhouettes against my face.
When blood rushes through your heart, warming it as it goes.
When tall trees stretch skyward,
gathering fragments of hope from the stars.
I want you when summer flowers bloom against winter’s control.
I want you when your summer is cold and stormy.
When rain interrupts the summer sun,
and storm clouds appear where blue skies belong.
When the days feel short and strange,
and static air lingers, hiding in plain sight.
When the sound of laughter is drowned out by the howling wind.
When street furniture shakes,
and fresh leaves swirl in the storm’s fury.
For even in these circumstances,
when the world is confused,
and seasons forget their place in the order-
when the world has been turned upside down-
I want every version of you.
A life I once knew,
The car rolled slowly over the uneven road before coming to a gradual
stop.
The unfilled potholes made for an uneasy ride.
The water inside the clear plastic bottle,
resting in the cup holder,
perched precariously
above the air vents on the dashboard,
vibrated gently,
like the surface of a lake stirred by a soft summer wind.
The sun’s glare hit my eyes with laser-like precision,
bouncing off the bonnet between the chalk-coloured remnants
of road salt, which clung to the paintwork.
Silence drowned out
the radio chatter.
My eyes, drawn to the rear-view mirror
That’s when I saw her smile!
Like looking directly at a solar eclipse,
my naked eyes
burning in her light.
He sat beside her,
his head slightly tilted against the headrest, his wide eyes
fixated on her.
I could almost hear his heartbeat.
I blinked, feeling the soft tickle of blood rushing to my skin.
My stomach tightened, my hands seeking comfort
in the solidity of the steering wheel.
I couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if they were singing and dancing.
She moved her hands in smooth, wave-like motions across her chest,
mimicking the ocean’s ebb and flow. He raised his hands to her face,
running his thumb and forefinger along her lower jaw.
Her blonde hair swayed as she leaned
in closer to him.
I felt the soft brush of air flow across his forehead as if him and I were the same person.
I watched intently as the corner of her mouth began to curl and her lips perched in anticipation for contact with his.
He didn’t flinch.
His eyes now level with hers, I imagined him scanning
the dimples of her cheeks, breathing in her perfume,
attracting him like the sea to the shore.
Time didn’t dare move.
My gaze grew heavy, like I was drifting
into that hazy in-between state, half awake, half asleep,
where dreams and reality blur.
My subconscious took control
Lake Garda, Italy, July 2023.
The late evening sun bathing her skin in orange hues,
revealing a cosmos of freckles twinkling in the light. Her glowing eyes reflecting the stillness of the lake.
Her laughter in sync with the gentle lapping waves washing over the pebble stoned beach.
The sparkle of her smile held a mischief I’d seen before, reserved only for times of intimate encounters forcing my heart to beat faster.
‘Come on’ she said ‘it’s not that cold’
the crystal-clear water licking her ankles.
She grabbed my wrist tugging me towards the water’s edge.
‘How could I say no?’
I stepped in.
The lake swallowed us whole. The world beyond these shores,
forgotten.
There, beneath the Italian sun-drenched sky, time didn’t dare move.
Then,
the sudden rumble of the passing engine woke me from my day dream.
The windows of the car rattled like chatting teeth.
I frantically wiped the sleep from my eyes still focused intensely on the rear-view mirror.
It was then her eyes met mine,
forcing me to sheepishly lower my stare.
I questioned whether I was invading their privacy
by purposely watching as they shared such an intimate moment.
Would I have looked away if I thought I was ?
No.
I would have stepped closer.
My thoughts quickened.
I was in awe.
Was I jealous?
Was I willing to indulge in the sight of someone else’s happiness?
Could I steal it?
Could I reach out and grasp what they had?
Would I steal it if I could?
Yes.
I think I would.
No.
I know I would.
I shifted my gaze back to the road as I moved off,
my eyes unfocused, the sun now streaming through
my driver’s side window, warming the side of my face,
my mind fighting to stay, just for a second longer.
“Because of her, because of her,” bellowed from the speakers.
Instinctively, I looked towards the passenger seat
that once cradled her precious body, her feet marks still
blurred on the silver dash, I reached out in desperation
to touch her
but she wasn’t there.
My hands suspended in the still air, without hers to hold.
I felt tears flow from my heart rushing through every vein,
until finally, I felt their heat spilling over the edge of my lower eyelid,
pooling against the frame of my sunglasses.
One by one the stitches that temporarily bridge the open wound carved into my heart, break open.
It was then I realised my reality,
The rear-view mirror had offered a glimpse of the life I once knew.
impspired 