Winds whisper
of what once was
while weather wisps
what was
into what will be.
All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Month: November 2016
PICTURING PARIS; RUNNING BY THE RIVER
Sunday morning run on ile Saint Germain, Paris south west…
Where the city meets the Seine
A splash of colour on an, as yet, dull day
Better days- what we need right now
The Bridges of Paris County!
Nature is endless
A bench beneath the bark
Fragility in the field
Framed gardens
The human touch
A seat at the summit of the morning…
All photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
CATCH THE KISSES
Catch cotton kisses
blowing briefly over bodies
on beds, on beaches
basking, baking.
Catch kisses
cuddled in cotton sheets
freshly laid kisses
caressing carefully closed curtains.
Kisses cuddled
on sandy beaches as tides tick through time,
tickling time
with waves washing over us.
Clean, crisp
cotton kisses, candy kisses,
too delicious to last too long,
long kisses
on cotton sheets, worn with laughter,
folds of light laughter,
making movements of moments,
moving moments,
catch the moments
of bodies on beds, on beaches
where tides kiss toes,tickle toes,
wash away woes.
Summer kisses,
cotton candy kisses
on soft sheets of surrender,
like the sand surrenders to the shore,
like the sea caresses the sand,
kisses
in waves never lasting
though sinking so deep
below the surface.
All words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Audio version available on Soundcloud:
GRAND CANYON
Hold hope
hold tight
hold on
to what you can
remember
not to get lost
not to let go
not to sink
into the great divide
between you and I
the canyon
that cradled us
without the grandeur
All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
FRAGILE WINGS
And the butterfly
flies with folly
on fragile wings
a million flaps
between
earth and sky
to light
to carry
troubled things.
All Words and Sketches by Damien B. Donnelly
GRACE IN THE GARDEN
My mother hangs memories
on the wall of her garden
in the land where her grandparents toiled,
on a wall in the garden
are my mother’s memories
that not autumn, winter or summer can spoil.
There are tea pots and trinkets
and there are trophies and tack
and mirrors watching time brushing past,
and a blue bird, once my bird,
upon the side of my crib
proving somethings from childhood can last.
My mother has memories
now rooted in her garden
next to bushes and berries in bloom,
there are things that can tickle
and there are things that can touch
and things that were broken or just had no room.
My mother’s hanging hope
on the walls in her garden
to cradle the heart in when it’s cold,
in the heart there’s a garden
where we cradle the grace
that my mother plants just like it were gold.
Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly, the Grace and Garden by Mona Donnelly
Audio version available at Soundcloud:
https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/grace-in-the-garden
NO ROOM IN THE ARC
Falling…
through time
that never truly changes
while never really stopping,
through thoughts
that cannot be accounted for,
that cannot be considered
accountable
and still we are counting
but not the cost.
Falling…
through floorboards
of homes that are no more
(did we invent the word war?)
no more the heart at home,
no more the heart of the home;
home now an ocean bed
and no boat big enough
to hold us all
even the arc
only took two of everything
while the heavens ran with rain
yet the heart still beats
like time,
still falling…
through cracks that cannot be closed
and every splinter
splits the skin
of illusion
and we are all a delusion;
a fading reflection
of subjection,
rejection,
speculation and conjecture;
the spectre of conjecture.
Falling…
through hands
that no longer hold
hearts now hardened
(and they say icebergs are melting)
hearts have grown cold
and have no place in homes.
Drowning…
in shallow shoals
shoals of souls
too shallow to swim in,
too sullied to see survival
as we rewrite the bible.
Drowning…
in the falling rain
too polluted to have faith in,
faith; and so fell faith
fate; and so befell Our Fate
in slow moving tears
on piers were boats are bound
to no harbour,
to no hope,
to no humanity
(christianity was a cross to heavy to bare)
Falling…
while standing up
and yet no one seems to notice.
“I came in bright as a neon light and I burnt out right there before him.’ This line is taken from Joni Mitchell’s song Lesson in Survival
All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Audio version available at SoundCloud:
https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/no-room-in-the-arc
STARDUST
Stardust…
the fallout
from the flames,
a nebulous of what
was once known by names,
now falling, through time and space,
trailing dust, a trail of gentle dust
in place of touch, in lieu of place,
in lieu of hold and how we hold;
tighter and stronger, longer, after,
trying to hold a star, a fading star,
burning out before us
when all that’s left
is dust,
our brightest moments
now molecules of light,
blazing through the silence
of the night, but oh
what a night.
Look up,
those who linger longer,
who fall and fret
before the great beyonder,
look to the light
and not the loneliness,
the night is falling
but the light
is just unfolding.
Look up
star dust is falling
from on high
writing names
across the sky
just for us
star dust…
All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Audio version available on Soundcloud:
COLLECTIVE SOUNDWAVES
I am delighted to hear that the Nov/Dec edition of Collective Soundwaves features some of my poems along with highlighting many other outstanding voices.
Who are Collective Soundwaves: (in their own words)
Collective Soundwaves features music from Soundcloud artists among different genres. The genres are divided into contemporary classical, cinematic/soundtrack, metal, electronic, ambient, rhythm and prose, lyrical expressions/songwriter, and spoken word.
Music has different meanings for both those who create it and those who hear it. The intent of the artist need not influence how we interpret their sound or what their music means to us. Nevertheless, for certain releases, we expand on the artist’s concept for their music via interviews and/or album discussions.
Collective Soundwaves was founded May 2016 by Sae Ely, an orchestral composer and microbiologist. Singer/songwriter Lanie Cruz assists with editing.
Please check out their site at:
http://www.collectivesoundwaves.com/home
(You can find me under the Spoken Word section)
Damien B. Donnelly
#NOUSSOMMESPARIS
Today, Eyewear Publishing published its latest poetry anthology #NousSommesParis, featuring one of my poems, commemorating the Paris attacks last year and is now available to buy:
https://store.eyewearpublishing.com/products/noussommesparis
Damien B. Donnelly 
