What is life
but a book to read
from both sides,
from either end,
from all there is to see here
below the constant clouds of consideration
and from far on high
where the clouds are carpet
and the stars are as close to perfection
as we can get,
for midway
through this meander
of noise and nonsense,
of love and what is left
in its place
when it has parted,
i am no closer
to the correct question
as I am to the unachievable answer.

What is love
but a sunlight
seen out of season,
a breath to better us
when there is no air,
a rainstorm
when all we can see
is desert dust
sweeping over the highway
where our hope is headed
while we are bound,
to faithful,
to fearless,
to ferocious,
as we falter, fail and fall
and rise again,
better for the bruises
ready for the next round,
prepared to bleed out
our lives along
this road we are rocking.

And still I can drink another case
of you, and you, and you, and you, and you…

What is life?
What is love?
What is the point in asking?

We are here…
happy, hurt, healing.

We have cut through the clouds
and reached the other side…

what more is there to fear?

All Words and Paintings by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on Soundcloud:






  1. Beautiful as ever. I couldn’t get the Sound Cloud to work this time which is a shame. I love your alliterations. Tremendous likeness of you, too, n’est-ce pas?

    • Thank you Alison. I really enjoyed this one. It felt light!
      Thanks for the heads-up regarding the SoundCloud link- I sorted it now, think I added it the other day before it had been birthed!
      The self portrait became a little more just a portrait as I went along, I think I got tired looking in the mirror which I why it’s a little younger than the truth!!😊
      Hope you had a wonderful Independence Day 🤗🤗😊

  2. Dami, you once more have stated it so beautifully!
    This is such a good reminder, too. I feel invited to stop struggeling and just be in the Now.
    Thank you and much love,
    Steffi 🐝

  3. Pingback: I CAME TO THE CITY, MY MUSE, MISS MITCHELL – Deuxiemepeau; Picturing Poetry by D. B. Donnelly

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