BOOKENDS; WHEN THE BREATH COMES AFTER THE BREAK

   

The lilt of the lavender that lingered for days,
long after, by the leaning, before the louvre,

the sweet consolation of candy floss cologne
that stayed on the pillow, after you had parted.

It is sometimes that simple; a scent to sail you back to me

as if I never left the garden,

as if I never left the comfort of your caress

though when it was there I could barely catch a breath.

   

All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly. 

This month is looking back at the scent that will stay with me before I leave Paris. The courtyard of the Louvre was filled with a lavender covered tent for a Dior Fashion show during the Paris fashion week a few years ago.

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 “BOOKENDS; WHEN THE BREATH COMES AFTER THE BREAK

  1. Wow, Damien, you have become French in your soul. I feel like I could be reading Proust in À la recherche du temps perdu. He too speaks of the persistence of smell and its ability to unconsciously evoke past memories. Here’s my non-literal translation of one such passage from his masterpiece work, “But when nothing remains of a former past time, after the death of people and the destruction of things, smell and taste, more frail but more full of life, more bodiless, more persistent, and more faithful, they [taste and smell] alone still endure for a long time, like souls, to remember, to wait, and to hope on the ruins of all the rest, and to bear without flinching the enormous edifice of memory within an imperceptible droplet.”

    (“Mais, quand d’un passé ancien rien ne subsiste, après la mort des êtres, après la destruction des choses, seules, plus frêles mais plus vivaces, plus immatérielles, plus persistantes, plus fidèles, l’odeur et la saveur restent encore longtemps, comme des âmes, à se rappeler, à attendre, à espérer, sur la ruine de tout le reste, à porter sans fléchir, sur leur gouttelette presque impalpable, l’édifice immense du souvenir.”)

    1. Well, reading this comment this morning has added sunshine to the rainstorm. Proust and myself in any proximity is a dream so thank you so much Mike, I think I owe you lunch!!! ☺️ beautiful translation too!

      1. So many people are content to live life on a surface level, unwilling or unable to look inside of themselves. Your poetry, Damien, shows a rare ability to see and to embrace a deeper level, a world where fears and insecurities are real, hopes are sometimes dashed, and what we hope to be eternal turns out to be temporal. Yeah, I’m ok with speaking of you and Proust in the same sentence. 🙂

      2. It can be a blessing and a burden, it’s an interesting position to dwell in, I see others who reside more on the surface and see only light and laughter and I wonder at times how restful that would be, to just be bright and then I think of the magical contrast I would miss.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Paul Stephenson

Poems, Poetry, Poets

Cuimhní Oisín (Oisín Remembers)

Some lays of the Fianna, translated from the Irish by Annraoi de Paor with illustrations by Tim Halpin

Flight of the dragonfly

Spoken Word - Poetry, Flash Fiction, Prose

na rudai ata i mo cheann

The Things That Are In My Head.

eat the Storms

Stay Bloody Poetic

Nigel Kent - Poet

Author of 'Saudade' and 'Psychopathogen'

Specks and Fragments

home of the elusive trope

A Writer's Path

Sharing writing tips, information, and advice.

AMAGA Photography Blog

Words about pictures by Michael Scandling

ПОХОДЫ 2022

походы 2022 по России

a dreaming skin

Writing, Poetry & Creativity | Angela T Carr, Dublin, Ireland

Line By Line

Website for writer Kay McKenzie Cooke

Mike Powell

My journey through photography

Growplan

landscape and change

Crossways

Literary Magazine

MY VALIANT SOUL

My poetry is my religion.

Dancing In The Current

Colouring Outside The Lines

The Expressible Café

Expressing moments of Inspiration within a cozy setting

Poems for Warriors

"Be on guard. Stand firm in the faith. Be courageous. Be strong. And do everything with love." 1 Cor. 16:13-14

No Shrubs

Meanderings and Commentary

Drawn In

Art • Nature • Exploration

Nature Journeys

A Wildlife Journal In Pictures

Naiem Ur Rehman

Amidst the chaos of Kashmir and confusion of medical sciences, let's do something that we really love - write!

Fleeting Muse

Poetry inspired by ethereal feelings, life events and personal philosophy.

The Citron Review

A Journal of Brief Literature

Luke Atkins

Film, Music, and Television Critic

Chaotic Shapes

Art and Lifestyle by Brandon Knoll

Exploring Colour

New Zealand

AesthesiaMag

French magazine - art & visual culture

Variety is the Spice of Life

A palette of general thoughts & travel stories from all around the world

Frank Solanki

If you want to be a hero well just follow me

The Friday Influence

a poetry blog & online home to the work of José Angel Araguz

%d bloggers like this: