to distract,
like a snowflake;
the sparkle before the melt.
Particles of fleeting perfection
floating through the hands of time,
falling through all these imperfections.
If only my clutch were tighter, truer, if only
I knew more of my own truth, too many skins
already slipped through, too much prediction put on that perception
of perfection that can never be preserved. A snowflake
cannot be caught intact. We cannot catch a cloud.
We cannot always clear the way for the truth.
Perfection: a twist of our perception,
a precious perspective
from a single point
never again
to be
What if it’s never seen at all?
like a snowflake,
A snowflake
can be a melting tear
or a tiny miracle on track
to disappear.
an elusive illusion,
a deathly desire tenuously tied
to what we present and how you perceive.
To what we fear and what we are willing to show.

I glisten,
to distraction attention
from all that doesn’t sparkle.


All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Published by deuxiemepeau

Published poet, writer, baker and former fashion maker, with footprints in Paris, London and Amsterdam but currently back home in Dublin with sights aimed at leaving a mark on the West coast one clear fine day...

7 thoughts on “ATTENTION

  1. When I embraced the shadows of my past and shared that story sincerely and publicly, I unexpectedly found a perfection I hadn’t anticipated. I can never attain an imaginary idealised perfection. But we can accept the inevitable imperfections that are intrinsic to who we are and grow beyond them. (This “grow beyond” concept is something that I’ve taken on board from Bishop Jake Owensby latest book and its hugely helpful). Reading your poem I related to it, enjoyed it, and paused for some time to ponder on the last line. There’s a real truth there indeed! Thanks Dami.

    1. You are welcome as always sand so wonderful to hear your point of view and point of reference. I find it easier the older I get to acknowledge my imperfections than to be weighed down by others peoples misconception of what they perceive to be my perfections. I think what I hold to be some of my best attributes are the things I hold dearest and closet within while others pick up on other external things about me that glisten for them but which pinch for me. Perhaps perfection is like happiness, better to be measured in height than in length. I remember when you shared your story Liz, to acknowledge is already to lighten. Thank you also for sharing Liz

      1. You and I are about as opposite as the hemispheres we inhabit! I enjoy your take on things, challenging for me to understand at times but always interesting, and fun. Your 2nd line really made me laugh but I got what you meant 🙂

  2. Wow. You caught my attention with the first four words of your hauntingly beautiful poem. It caused me to think about who I really am, the real me that hides behind the person that I present to the world. To varying degrees, I guess, we all hide behind a mask or perhaps a second skin, one that is tougher and not so easily bruised and penetrated. It’s rare for me to take the time to read something multiple times, but the words of this poem, Damien, really resonated with me and prompted me to pause and reflect. Thanks.

    1. Mike, thank you so much for your comments. I am really touched with your kindness. It is so nice to hear that this resonated with you. I was just earlier today admiring the photograph you caught of the Brown Creeper, I am sure they have little need for the masks we humans feel the need to hide beneath. Thank you.

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