I CAME TO THE CITY, PART 2; POTTERS ON THE ROAD

 

I am free in the morning,
in this morning town,

waking,

slipping from slumber
like skin from sheets,
like wings above clouds

conquering concerns that come a calling

and I am falling

upwards,

falling in love with light

can feel it sparkling,
even at day break,
even when days break,

falling for all that caresses carefree,

I am not constant,
no longer, not caught,
I am on course like the stars

I course through clouds, up from down,

I am clear of connection, of weight,
of all that heaves over heart,
I am more made of mind,

romance redirected in songs scripted
from memories and moments measured

in the heights that held us
and not the fights that harmed us.

I am cutting from my own carcass my own canyon

in the soil of the soul,
more whole than helpless,

brave the bird that breaks
from the nest
to find fortune in freedom.

Freedom is a solo flight;

to touch the stars
you have to know how to hold the night.

I am man now,
brave begotten from boy,
gotten braver, better, broader,

brought back to basic; the characteristic core of all creation.

Shadows are quaint covers now
that come in from the cold
when comfort is called.

Shadow is not all sinister, sun is not always safe.

We are starlight
making our way
through the darkness,

before we fall to dust,

trying to decipher the difference
between delight and distraction
along the paths we are potters on.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on Soundcloud:

 

I CAME TO THE CITY, PART 1, A SONG FOR THE SLEEPING BEE

 

There was a man I used to know,
who came a calling long ago,
back in the days when I didn’t know,
when I didn’t know the truth of me,
when I didn’t know who I could be.

There was a boy once, long ago,
fragile as filigree and falsetto,
there was a boy I used to know,
who didn’t know, I didn’t know.

I am a man now not from here,
who’s watched the shadows disappear;
the jeers and shame for being queer,
I’m not that same boy anymore,
I’ve set my sail to another shore.

If you said ‘home boy’, I wouldn’t know,
if you said ‘go boy’, I would not know

I couldn’t say which way to go.

I came a calling long ago,
I caught a calling that pulled me so,
came from inside and would not let go,
and now I can’t let it go,
can’t let the calling, can’t let it go.

I had a hero long ago,
he played me music sweet and slow,
I was the string at the Château d’Eau,
I was a puppet in his travelling show.

There was a puppet he used to know,
of sugar sweet and gentle snow,
but strings grow cold over melting snow,
and so he had to let me go,
he had no choice but to let me go.

I will not keep you, you have to know,
you’re just a pull of my cross and bow,
i’ll release the string and watch you go,
I will not want you to know me so,
we’ll let it burn out in the afterglow,
that’s the blow, but this I know,
and here I am to tell you so.

So you can love me before I go,
and you can taste me but then forego,
you can hold me like Calypso
did so long ago till she let go,
for this I know, I will let go,
of all I don’t know, this I know.

There was a man I used to know
who came a calling long ago,
I loved him so and yet I let him go,

I couldn’t say; ’I cannot stay’
but now he knows and so it goes.

There was a boy I used to be,
silent and still like a sleeping bee,
trying to hide behind a nobody,
but now he’s no more a part of me,
I see him sometimes out at sea
and in the shade of what used to be.

But he’s not me, that sleeping bee,
just thought it was who I was meant to be.

But it was not me, he was not me.
You see; that nobody; it wasn’t me,
there was a boy I used to be
but now this man, this man is me
or at least the only part I’ll let you see,
for all the rest, all the rest,
I’ve learned to keep that just for me

I learned you gotta keep something
because love;

It don’t come free.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on Soundcloud: 

 

 

SEND IN THE CLOWNS

 

Twisted in torment
throughout time,
we are tenements
tears could fill
in their thousands.

If only we were clowns
and comedy was our calling.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly

 

Twitter poetry prompt “tears could Fill” from #WrittenRiver

KEPT SILENT

 

Worries weaves
beneath the skin
like filagree
all twists and thin,
but secrets seep
as veins grow violent
for nothing comes
of sins kept secret.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Inspired by A Twitter prompt ‘Kept Silent’ from #Written River

A COLD KISS

 

I hung you
from the rafters
in the corner by the door,
the flower
all fine and false
that you thought I would adore,
but your hand
was all I wanted
and your kiss to keep the most,

but I was dead
and you were living
and you said you wouldn’t

kiss a ghost.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Inspired by a Twitter prompt “Ghost” from #Micropoetry

BODY BOUND

 

I cast myself mesmerised
by your movements, the curse
of your curves as you covet
my consciousness, as you
unbutton my willingness
to submit, to sink between
these sheets of submission,
to succumb to every single
suggestion that oozes
from the aura you amplify
behind the clothes, beyond
the flesh. We are both body
bound to the other, unable
to ascertain who is handcuffed

and who holds the key.

All words and sketches by Damien B. Donnelly

Inspired by a 3 word Poetry Prompt “Cast. Unbutton. Aura” from #SenseWrds on Twitter

GATHER GOODNESS

 

Gather giggles
in golden garlands,

guard glee as a gift,

grow grace
in the guts of gaiety,

gather goodness before its gone.

 

All words and photograph by Damien B. Donnelly

Inspired from a Twitter prompt from #POETHEME

LIMITLESS

 

I am older now,
wiser now,
time has folded
over fears and foolishness,
I am man now,
boy now; nowhere to be seen,
I can gaze back
at who I’ve been
but can only wonder
at what I’ll become.

Time folds
but life yearns to be limitless.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Inspired by a three word Twitter prompt ‘Folded. Nowhere. Gaze’ from @_Sense_Wrds

IN THE BOX; BOUND

 

Imagine beauty
bundled in a box,
locked from light
and bound to blindness,
imagine your eyes
banished to its bounty
while it smothers in silence,
deep in the darkness.
Imagine freedom
in that very box,
bound, blind
and banished.
Imagine strength
deprived of that force,
see it tampered, tainted
and tarnished.
The refugee
on the road
holds hope
in a box bound,
breathless for the day
it can be opened.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Inspiration came from the poetry prompt ‘Box’ from @Microprompt on Twitter.

Audio version available on Soundcloud: