OUI

11/04/201716/08/2021 / deuxiemepeau / 3 Comments

Day 11: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Was it true, was it you,
in the blink of an eye
and the history of a man
out of time, a man not mine?
Was it true, was it you,
who settled sweetly onto sofa,
who slipped swiftly into suggestions
as we washed whispers with wine?
Was it true, was it you,
caressing and undressing the distance
that tickled from your red bricks (red lips)
into the tangles of my sheets fresh?
Was it true, was it you, was it me,
that northern man kissing
and climbing over southern son’s
heart he wore carved upon flesh?

Oui, you say, in my ear, still,
Oui, you said, from my bed

and then we laughed…

and somewhere
in the distance
a train pulled away.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

UPSIDE DOWN

10/04/201701/04/2017 / deuxiemepeau / 3 Comments

Day 10: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Happiness

endless happiness

harboured in holds of hope hampers of harmony

hampers of… hampered happiness

heaped under hammer hindered

happiness and less happiness and less

under spotlight soundless motionless while all is in movement

happiness cannot be held in streaming eyes

happiness should not fall tear drops are not tender

see them falling falling falling

for you for all for everyone for nothing and no-one

happy to have hope

happy endless happiness

endless happiness and less happiness

and less and…
less visible.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

THE QUEST ACROSS THE SEA

09/04/201724/01/2018 / deuxiemepeau / 2 Comments

Day 9; National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Wander, he thought, and wander did he
across the land and over the sea,
adventure, he thought, but distraction came free
as distance dissolved the boundary.

For a while, he thought, a while to flee,
to see what rests, to see what can be,
understand, he said, this need to flee,
understand, accept and set it free.

Relax, he thought, and relax did he
across the land and over the sea,
feel, he thought, the possibility,
let dreams delight in discovery.

But hold, he though, what you cannot see,
those hearts you left across the sea,
release, he said, if it’s not to be,
all bonds too fragile you must set free.

Just fly, he thought, all across the sea
fly like a bird, uncaged, and set free,
draw the vision and see what can be,
feed on the flames of positivity.

For a while, he thought, a while to flee,
your name, your nation, their opinion of me,
but to find yourself again is the key
and not lose yourself in that quest to be free.

All Words by Damien B. Donnelly. My own self portrait aged 18

Audio version available at Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/the-quest-across-the-sea

IN THE SHADOW OF THE SUN

08/04/201708/04/2017 / deuxiemepeau / 11 Comments

Day 8: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Sun shines in the valley
where the sun king came to stay,
shade is shy in the valley
at the king and queen’s hideaway.

Shadows slip through the valley
down from stars to under stairs,
some secrets slip through the valley
whispered from lips of concrete heirs.

Sun shines in the valley
on swans now savage at swim,
the sun shines in the valley
though the peasants weren’t allowed in.

Shadows sneak through the valley
through the greed gathered within,
shadow is splitting the valley
like guillotines cutting through skin.

Sun shines in the valley
as gold from the fountains flow,
the sun shines in the valley
where follies fade and legends grow.

Shadows sleep in the valley
along paths where tourists thread,
shadows are stuck in the valley
like dust on ideals long dead.

Sun shines in the valley
as Apollo rides the waves,
the sun shines in the valley
and drowns the suggestion of slaves.

Shadows stretch through the valley
pressed into promises made,
shadow is song in the valley
on benches where kisses once laid.

Sun shines in the valley
in the sun king’s palace of pride,
the sun shines in the valley
where they often just came to hide.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photographs taken on Sunday 2nd April at Chateau de Versailles, Paris, in the sun.

UNDER THE FALL

07/04/201724/01/2018 / deuxiemepeau / 5 Comments

Day 7: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

I want to live as a tree
born from branches
turning, twisting
rummaging, rooting,
roots in the earth
in the flesh,
sucking substance
from the soul
of the soil,
head in the sky
reaching, rising,
hoping, shedding
my skin like leaves
in autumn
and starting again
each spring
after rising up
from under the fall.
I want to live as a tree.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken in Parc de Sceaux, Paris, France

THE LIGHT THAT SHIFTS THE SHADOW

06/04/201724/01/2018 / deuxiemepeau / 9 Comments

Day 6: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Trains used to slip
through these tracks
where runners now train,
old locomotives now relocated
like the light that displaces
the shadow,
but the lines
still linger,
less steam now,
more sweat
and sometimes
that light
that shifts
the shadow,
trains used to slip
through these tracks
that the city now tickles,
threatens with timeshares
to tear up what time still shares
in the corners where that shadow
leans into the light, on the lines where life
once rattled and raced,
before the new towers
knocked the old homes,
before the runners
and the walkways
and the boarders
and the builders
and the cranes
now shifting
into sight,
rising, in the distance,
just a step
beyond
that
light.

All Words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken at la Petite Ceinture, an old paris railway line in the 15eme

AS THE BAND PLAYS ON…

05/04/201724/01/2018 / deuxiemepeau / 2 Comments

Day 5: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Amid the misty moods of jazz,
strings starring
the elegance of Ellington,
shadows caress
the couples kissing,
the barman swaying
and the affected
aficionados
converging
on the cello
player,
playing softly on seduction
sentimental moods

as the smell of him
sways still
over my skin
like fingers on the piano,
like the tune
he has played
on other bones,
(and softly sounds the sax)
on other bodies
(and the percussion pipes up)
while he moves
through the crowd;
my man of the moment,

oh my man,
I’ll miss him so…

mood moving from indigo
to let it go.

I watch him
slipping through
mouths sipping wine,
lips licking lyrics,
hands finding heat
below the table,
across the strings.

I’ve wandered down Bleaker
and tasted
the brown brick air,
I saw the sun
set down
high on the Hudson
and felt the wind
whisper the distant song
of solitude
that is never far
from my fold.

I’ve flown so far
to get here,
to this home,
his home,
amid the horns
and harmonies
(I’m already setting free)
it’s the strangest feeling
to know I am here
but will soon be gone,
for the A-train will be calling

as the band plays on…

Al Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on SoundCloud:

WILLING TO BE WONKA

04/04/201716/08/2021 / deuxiemepeau / 9 Comments

Day 4; National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Up and through, through colour
to brighter, better, perhaps.
I’m next, she says,
up and though and off,
following under foot
the man with the hat
whose had enough,
off with hats, top hats
and hard hats, happy heads
float through colour, dissolving
all that was once dense
and now looking lighter,
brighter. Dissolve, he says,
into concrete columns
of colour, preconceptions
are now passing, no longer
cornered by constricting
contraptions, sink into that
which was solid, into that
which is not what it seems,
release the rope with the briefcase
and the blindness and the budget,
and slip swiftly into a new world
of hope on the wall, on the roof,
there is no ceiling, there is no limit,
imagination has no holding
in all that is flat, in all
that seems futile, gone
are the grey days, the grey ways,
the grey suits that ground him
downwards, freedom is
but a jump upwards, sideways,
left, out of centre, this is
but a waiting room,
close your eyes, feel the weight
lift, slip, feel the worry ware away
between the suggestions
someone else has painted
on that which was once static,
that which was once
only a support, imagination
is a jump up and through,
pink can be your sky
if you rise above all who tell you
it’s blue, the sea can be your heaven
if you can get through the clouds.
Up and through, through all that binds you,
bonds are only walls that have yet to be
splashed with colour.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken at Maison du l’Air, Parc de Belleville, Paris, France

AT ODDS, AT THE TABLE

03/04/201724/01/2018 / deuxiemepeau / Leave a comment

Day 3: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Always
that fine line
between
what slots
together and what
slips in between,
those black spots
of doubt that cannot
be fully folded out
like linen that lingered
too long
before being laid,
like chopsticks
that fight for form
between fingers foreign,
like this morning,
in the park,
the birds you breaded
and tonight,
on your plate,
the duck, now shredded.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

THE LIGHT

02/04/201716/08/2021 / deuxiemepeau / 5 Comments

Day 2: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Dance
in the light now.
Lighter,
feel the light.

In parting
you touch my cheek,
fragility caressing flesh
as magnolia’s
unfold overhead.
Goodbye
I hear you say
from the distance,
from where the light
is so much brighter,
and off you go,
lighter now,
in form,
in vision
in voice.

And ashes find favour
with tears
and what once was
dissolves on my cheek,
that cheek you touched,
that skin you kissed.
Life now mixing
with all we lost,
water washing away
what has been burnt,
what had been broken.
Disease diminished.
Cancer no longer
with cadaver to cower in.
Latch on to the light,
my light, our light,
so much lighter
than before.

And the sea
sweeps along the shore,
and the water
waves along the beach,
and every grain of sand
is shaped,
and every grain of sand
is touched,
marked forever,
as we bare your mark,
as we carry your light.