WORDLESS WEDNESDAY TRUNKS TELL TALES

I wonder, as with love and hate,which came first- bark almost buried blindor the sweet lie of this lichen grown over as if you where the breath to its lung,the furrow to its field, the ground to its grass, the remnants of its final stand. All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly

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THE AMBIGUOUS PASSING OF THE PASTORAL

Things move slowly here like the browningof a leaf, like the lichen along the barkthat comes on like considered kissesto comfort the cold and some things just stick like the tossed blue bag the wind has woundaround the briar, like the damp within the bricksof those choked up cottages not even demandwill come to disturb. […]

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Neuro Logical Magazine

Yesterday my poem Promises Made at Lombards came out in Ireland’s Neuro Logical Magazine. Paris, the late 1990’s, before the millennium, before I knew London, Amsterdam, the value of a basic bike or how cold it would be to live on a barge or had any idea that I would find my way back to […]

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Snap. Video Poem

Pictures capture the setting in silenceas if the silence has settled. Reflections capture the stillness in the wateras if to sink beneath could somehow be more soothingthan the reality rockingjust a fraction beyond the frame. Hope is as fragile as a pond of still water, a breath held as if we could hold back the […]

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