Paris,
in between the
light and the legacy,
there is a silence waiting
to be heard.
All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly
This month is about looking at the shadow and light of Paris and the part I played in it, or the parts she played within me.
Mike Powell
I really like this short poem, Damien. As it reads, it echoes the words of a Simon and Garfunkel song of my youth, especially these verses:
Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
…
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by
The flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
As I slowly read each of your words, Damien, I almost anticipated the final word to be “seen” and my mind contemplated the notion of a silence that could be seen.
deuxiemepeau
Thanks Mike. Simon and Garfunkel are art crafted so carefully into lyrics.
It’s such a challenge to do such a short poem but that for me is the mathematics of poetry, to convey with a certain degree of considered calculation