Spring sun sweet on skin

that still recalls the rain,

(it is not just raindrops that fall)

drunk is the forest beneath

those blood red moons

(blind are we to the fires we started).

Will you swim through the shadow

to beat away these bitter blues?

Beauty is a ship of summer symphony,

we are whispers to be worshiped

before our season stops to sing.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly with the help of the magnetic poetry oracle.


We drink eternity,

soft, slow, salty,

like coffee cups

of unexplored ocean blues,

breathing in dark stars,

bleeding in the wake

of the wild breeze

that has no home

in these fatherless trees,

eyes moist by this window of time,

a prisoner of this smoky glass.

We are porcelain colored in concrete,

a brilliant blush of delirious desire

before decay.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly and gifted from today’s magnetic poetry oracle.



How to cut deep.

Tipping toes in the tepid

tides of therapy.

We are cunning creatures

in unconscious,

under cover,

cool to discover

the character

beneath the cadaver.


How to discover,

how to distance the self

from its disguise,

from the depths

we dive to deceive the day,

the way we weave

tepid tales through the tides

of our twisting truths,

ever evolving, ever revolving

in directions we cannot dictate,

covering over shades

we cannot eradicate,

those waves that ruminate,

that sweep through veins

already raging red

before the oxygen

burns the blue. Control.

How to find the true blood

in a body beaten into believing

the truth of what the consciousness

considers to be correct.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly



Perfumed kiss and velvet poison,

caramel can be a concrete candy,

I blush, almost broken,

a prisoner to this ocean

of long grass and liquid sky,

this smoky glass, darkly dazzling.


A wild flower is not a sister of peace,

fire is not a dance easy to put out.


All words by Damien B. Donnelly, with the aid of Magnetic Poetry