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.
Poems, Poetry, Poets
Some lays of the Fianna, translated from the Irish by Annraoi de Paor with illustrations by Tim Halpin
A small press
The Things That Are In My Head.
Stay Bloody Poetic
Author of 'Sent, 'Fall', 'Unmuted' and 'Saudade'
home of the elusive trope
Fantasy Author
Words about pictures by Michael Scandling
Writing, Poetry & Creativity | Angela T Carr, Dublin, Ireland
Kay McKenzie Cooke Website & Blog
My journey through photography
landscape and change
My poetry is my religion.
Colouring Outside The Lines
Expressing moments of Inspiration within a cozy setting
"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Ps 147:3
Art • Nature • Exploration
Peter Hillman's Photographic Exploration of South Staffordshire and Beyond
Poetry inspired by ethereal feelings, life events and personal philosophy.
A Journal of Brief Literature
Film, Music, and Television Critic
Writer
Art and Lifestyle by Brandon Knoll
New Zealand
French magazine - art & visual culture
A palette of general thoughts & travel stories from all around the world
Jack Bennett
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
a writing space curated by José Angel Araguz
Thoughts and Perspectives From the Mind of a Common Girl
Cooking with imagination
Damien B. Donnelly 
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.
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