Month: February 2019

FOR A WHILE, TO DREAM

/ deuxiemepeau / 10 Comments

 

I of soft nights dream
above a sea of harpsichords,
where clouds are cooling caramel
and the stars set alight with the scent
of a pristine perfume deemed delectable.

I of soft nights dream
neath a curve of cloistered courtyards,
drunk on desires dawn will deliver
as dusk dressed Diana sets to slip
my careless catastrophes far upriver.

I of soft nights dream
on a bed of chamomile seats
where leaves lean in to comfort from cold
and fine floret rays of petals white
dance around the apple scented hearts of gold.

I of soft night dream
through this climate’s current chaos
of laughter lines beneath sweet thy smile,
of caress, kiss and chorus of choir
and the comfort that comes to call for a while.

I, of soft nights, dream…

—

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Inspiration for today’s poem must be given to Nigel Cowburn from Growplan; https://growplan.wordpress.com/. His wife Liz from Exploring Colour; https://exploringcolour.wordpress.com/ told me last week that his response to my poem Solo Sail was that it reminded him of harpsichords, chamomile seats and cloistered courtyards! I couldn’t let those images be passed up on. Thank you Nigel.

SOLO SAIL, on a ship full of hearts

/ deuxiemepeau / 10 Comments

 

When we to time wish,
wings do not carry all words
so I to promise must desist,
faith is fickle feathers on fragile birds.

If love to hearts hold
then hearts be more than one must
for not is love a concrete mould;
stilled the river bed whose reeds rot to rust.

When we to time turn,
touch being a tethered thread,
I have to trust that ties will burn
but mind make memory of beating bed.

If love in heart’s held
just as blood in veins are bound,
then truth to self must be compelled,
feral is the field of the barren ground.

When I to nights slip
as moon to stars serenade,
my course cast upon ocean’s ship
bid adieu to lips kissed and loves mislaid.

When current’s call comes
and cares cast into the crest
I dare the waves to beat like drums
and allegiance pledge to my beating breast.

 

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

DANCING IN THE CURRENT

/ deuxiemepeau / 14 Comments

 

I am posting a link to Dancing in the Current, a new blog from Exploring Colour‘s Liz Cowburn. Her husband Nigel took this photograph and afterwards both Liz and I wrote poems based on our interpretations. I originally posted mine last week but wanted to show you the three pieces together, Nigel’s photograph along with Liz’s poem and mine. I am so pleased how our work has intertwined despite the distance between France and New Zealand. I wasn’t able to reblog the post directly so I have copied it here but you can click on the link below to be brought to the original post…

https://dancinginthecurrent.wordpress.com/

Liz’s post:

Drawn To The Light. Dunedin, Otago, New Zealand

The St Clair’s Piles, St Clair Beach. Taken by Nigel Cowburn 31 January 2019

My husband Nigel took this fabulous photo when he was on the beach at sunset, at St Clair. I love the view of the piles seen against the esplanade lights reflected in the wet sand. In fact, I was moved to write a poem and also invited Damien B. Donnelly to do the same. Damien lives far away, in Paris, and yet he wrote a remarkably perceptive poem. Here both poems are published together, with Nigel’s photo.

Nigel works as a Landscape Architect and blogs at  Growplan

Survivors

— Poem by Liz Cowburn

[piles’ perspective]

Sentinals of the sand,
we stand

Driven deep to defend
this beach

Regimental relics – we resist,
persist

Fight for footing! Look to the land,
the sand!

*****

[my perspective]

Battered, beaten by tidal terrors ‘the breakers’
— bowed but not cowed

Centred in a century’s swirling currents,
St Clair’s piles sink, subside…

Yet… THESE SURVIVE !!!

You can see Liz’s original poem post here:

https://exploringcolour.wordpress.com/2019/02/12/survivors-poem/

Her new blog is: https://dancinginthecurrent.wordpress.com/

THE  WEIGHT  UPON  THE  WAVES

— Poem by Damien B. Donnelly

And in the tide
tight with time and its turning
they left their posts,
impaled upon the sand,
impressed upon the land.

And there they stood
ten in heart and ten in tide
for time to tend,
impaled upon mind,
impressed upon mankind.

And on they marched
up the land and on from shore
for evermore
impaled upon their wain,
impressed upon the flame.

And out with wave
woe on water and touch from time,
tormented years
impaled upon the crest,
impressed upon the chest.

And on they went
refugees in search of root
swept along the shore
impaled upon with tears,
impressed upon with fears.

And on it goes
those who run and those who can stay
and those who are lost,
impaled upon the wars,
impressed upon the waves.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly
Link to view the poem on Damien’s blog:  The Weight Upon The Waves

Notes on Damien’s poem

The reference to refugees made a big impression on me. In April 2016 Dunedin accepted their first group of Syrian refugees. Damien wouldn’t have been aware of this when he wrote the poem; I told him later via Comments at his site – the following was his response:

“When I saw the piles and the lights heading off inland in the distance a journey immediately came to mind, the struggle of those who survived, who carry the flames of the hope and the souls of the past; those who were left behind or lost on the journey, the hills we all have to climb and the oceans too many have to cross to seek refuge, I am so glad to hear how Dunedin opened its gates to welcome in a new hope. I think our global commonality is that we are all refugees looking for our place in the world, just some of us have it much easier and a more comfortable journey than others.”
— Damien B. Donnelly (conversation via Comments)

Originally Posted by Liz; Dancing In The Current (2019)

 

Reprinted by Damien with permission

RESILIENT

/ deuxiemepeau / 4 Comments

 

Dry earth,
its sharp teeth
tear through trunks,
spines spindle around nature’s tenacity;
this rugged rage of rocks that have rolled,
boulders are the big bands here
spotlight of sandy sun bolts
and center stage dawns
of desert dust.

Dry earth,
cutting clouds like carefree-cotton
fall apart amid the peak-like pinnacles
that places people as unimportant pebbles,
we can climb the heights, we can slip our soles
along the sandy tracks others have thread
but a simple sandstorm leaves us
as a mark once made,
fast forgotten.

Dry earth.
Still. Silent.
Shining. Steady.
Bare breath is borne off on the breeze,
beauty is breath taking where the breath is less
and beauty is everything.
Steady. Shining.
Sill. Silent.

Dry Earth,
but so relentlessly
resilient.

 

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photographs taken last week in Joshua Tree National Park, Yucca Valley, California

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THE WEIGHT UPON THE WAVES

/ deuxiemepeau / 13 Comments

 

And in the tide
tight with time and its turning
they left their posts,
impaled upon the sand,
impressed upon the land.

And there they stood
ten in heart and ten in tide
for time to tend,
impaled upon mind,
impressed upon mankind.

And on they marched
up the land and on from shore
for evermore
impaled upon their wain,
impressed upon the flame.

And out with wave
woe on water and touch from time,
tormented years
impaled upon the crest,
impressed upon the chest.

And on they went
refugees in search of root
swept along the shore
impaled upon with tears,
impressed upon with fears.

And on it goes
those who run and those who can stay
and those who are lost,
impaled upon the wars,
impressed upon the waves.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly

This 2nd photograph is also of St Clair beach, Dunedin, Otago, New Zealand, taken by Nigel and used by Liz for her blog Exploring Colour.

The original link to Liz’s blog post is;

https://exploringcolour.wordpress.com/2019/02/06/drawn-to-the-light/

Liz has also penned a glorious poetic tribute to these long standing piles entitled Survivors and the link is

https://exploringcolour.wordpress.com/2019/02/12/survivors-poem/

Nigel’s Landscape Architecture blog is;

https://growplan.wordpress.com/

THE BREAKING OF THE BLUE

/ deuxiemepeau / 7 Comments

 

Tall is the man
willing to rise before the break of day
beneath the blanket blackness
and tip toe into the still untempered tide
blindly, current cast as yet unclear,
and trust in time
to lean in with light.

We can be cold creatures
staking our claim
with breath of blue
into our ever-shortening shores
but quickly warmed and welcomed
when we see beyond the shallow
and dig beneath the depths.

We are not owls
who serve the night
but oceans
brought to life
with the breaking of the blue.

 

This photograph is of St Clair beach, Dunedin, Otago, New Zealand and was taken by Nigel and used by his wife Liz for her blog exposing all that is colourful and beautiful Exploring Colour. Recently Liz asked me to give the photograph some thought with regards to a poem and this poem above is what I penned while on route to San Francisco last week. The original link to Liz’s blog post is;

https://exploringcolour.wordpress.com/2019/02/05/still-standing/

Nigel’s Landscape Architecture blog is;

https://growplan.wordpress.com/

CALIFORNIAN SPARK

/ deuxiemepeau / 10 Comments

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Here in parks in Paris, France, I potter
through a past so old and cold
that it cannot be parted, we cannot
easily outrun our own ruins while Cali
beckons me with her rock and roll band;
those make-me-feel-good brothers
and sisters since seduced back
to their former States and somewhere,
in between, the loneliness lingers;
the hazy clouds of craziness I have crossed
and the curt corners I have yet to console
on this journey through time; today,
in the blinding light of a frozen park
in Paris, France and tomorrow beyond
the clouds where Cali is a calling.
In shades of blue, ice cold, I see the breath
collapsing into weighty snowflakes
that makes all movement morose
in this Sunday morning of sunshine
that somehow still shivers skin
on both sides of the ocean, on both sides
of these clouds where I’ve looked at love.

Today, I potter through parts of Paris,
France, that are pressuring, impenetrable
and oh, so pleasurable like cases
of bitter sweetness but tomorrow
I will come to court the hissing
of those Cali lawns that are calling
in a Spring called Palm, waiting
to ignite a spark from a snowflake.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

I am off to Palm Springs tomorrow so see you all in a week