From Myth to Man in 37 Years

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When I was a boy I dreamt of you daily,

When I was 20 I thought I knew you,

As I fall toward 40 I’m not sure we’ve ever met,

But I’ve loved you, you know, since childhood;

Since I saw what it meant to hold someone’s hand

And understood what that touch could bring.

I’ve spoken to you, daily, not sure if you ever heard,

But I’ve told you, over and over,

The plans I’ve made for us in my head,

All alone, though sometimes I spoke to you silently

As I lay in the wrong arms, in the wrong bed,

Having fallen upon a path that wasn’t mine.

I’ve married you, again and again,

In fairy tales and formal attire,

In far off castles and on sun kissed shores.

I’ve made love to you, moved in with you,

Moved the world for you and yet,

Although we’ve never met, you’ve changed a lot

Over time, with each day, along each year,

Through the ages that I’ve dreamt you in.

You are no more the God I once dreamt you to be

With chiseled jaw and perfect pose.

No, you are now to me, at last,

more man than myth; more meaningful than mystical,

More substance than surface.

I too am now man, having grown older and wiser

And learned to distinguish all that is necessary

From all that is but noise.

When I was a boy I dreamt of you daily,

One bounteous bodily being of beauty,

But now, all is different, I have seen the world

Beyond dreams, and have felt life pulsing through my waking hands.

Now, with eyes open, I see part of you in many and none of you in some

but I’m thinking that I’ll never find all of you in one.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Break-Up Afters

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It meant nothing and everything-

All at once.

It was filled with what you did not say

And every tale you eyes still told.

Was it too warm

Or too cold?

I remember shivering.

Were you the first

To light my cigarette-

Like you did so long before-

When everything was natural

And comforting?

Was it you

Who suggested

We should go

Or I who said

We should leave?

And then, there we were-

Naked,

So suddently-

I barely remembered the journey,

How we ended up there;

Not mine,

No longer ours-

But yours.

Creating the first soils

On your shiny sheets,

Pressing into them

That already soured scent

Of a past- recently thought expired.

All this within an apartment

So new

That the dust had barely settled

And so far removed

From everything renowned

As us,

That it was unrecognizable

As you.

You blindly found your way

Around my body-

Beneath a darkness

We both felt safe in-

Better than you found your way

To your own light switch;

So new was the home to you

Inhabitating it

And yet so familiar my every curve-

Even the ones gained in your absence;

Those sweet chocolatey replacements.

We’d messaged,

Met, made out, made love,

Measured up a home,

Merged, mortgaged, meandered,

Drifted, dived downwards,

Derailed, deceived, divided,

Divorced,

Forsaken, forgiven, forgotten,

Replaced the physical-

Temporarily and necessarily,

To scratch the itch

Until we resigned,

Released, refreshed, rebooted,

Before ridiculously tempting faith

And each other

And our restraint

With a little calling,

Uncalled for smiling,

A period of careful planning,

A suggestion of a drink-

Casual,

Quick,

Uncomplicated-

In rememberance.

And then,

In the blink of an eye,

We removed the past from our minds

And the clothes from our bodies-

Like all those years before-

But with so much more

Lying between us

Than just our salty skins-

Bollocking our way through break-up sex.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Time, Long rested

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I would have laid in your arms,

Tonight,

Right there and then-

Did you know that,

Could you feel that?

Not for the kick of it,

The thrill of it,

Nor for just the fuck of it.

But for that tiny time

We shared in the past

Now set firm in photos,

Misty in the memory

But tingly on the tongue.

I would have kissed you,

Tonight,

There and then,

On the sofa,

In the light-

With the curtains open

And the houselights on.

I would have run my tongue,

So gently,

Along your lower lip

Before sliding it inside you,

To tempt you,

To taste you.

Not because it would be easy,

Not because I have missed it

But because, once, it was mine,

Once,

When you were the smell on my body,

Once,

When you were the warmth beside me.

I would have undressed you,

Tonight,

In the hallway,

Between the rooms-

Along that casual route

From sofa to bed

Where I would have laid you,

Watched you,

Rose for you,

Before I climbed in beside you

And slid myself on top of you

And felt myself beneath you.

Not just to be horny,

Not just to be cheap,

Not to belittle you just to sex,

But to remember

Back to a time

Which was ours,

And to remember-

In this time-

That touch we shared.

I would have wrapped my body

Around you,

Then and there,

Behind the shadows of a time,

Long rested

And nakedly

I would have spooned you

In the sweet, salty, sweaty afterglow

That tickled along our bodies,

Entwined,

As the night found us

And slowly slept us

And then daybreak-

When morning would find us

And I would open my eyes and smile

At you,

And gently,

I would kiss you-

Goodbye

And let you go,

Shut the door,

Drink my tea

And smell you,

Sweetly,

All over me.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

Fool’s Kingdom

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I am frequently fool:

Folly of fearful affection,

Fading fast behind a closed door

With key in hand-

My own hand.

Unseen,

Untouched,

Craving to be held,

But afraid to be found,

Figured out,

As failure, freak, fanatic fool.

I am boy grown man,

Growing old, going grey-

Recedingly so-

And all in the blink of my eye.

Am I really

That unrecognized reflection

In the mirror,

Staring back at me-

Questioningly?

Skipping, slipping, sliding,

Fidgeting,

Foolishly falling forward

Into a future-

Though of what?

I’ve been Dublin born,

Bullied and bored;

The bashful boy

Who never understood why the big boys pushed him,

The artistic child

Who painted a world where everyone loved him,

The boy child

Who never saw the streets as fair as the songs all painted,

Who only saw the limits and restrictions of an island-

Isolated.

The growing boy-

Who finally fell distracted by the body of man

And the feel of it’s touch,

Mostly mistaking momentary fumblings

To be romantic ever-afters,

But they were mainly misjudged minutes of madness-

More ‘Always Ending’ than ‘Everlasting’-

Learning curves,

Bathing pools,

Energetic experiments

And sweaty seductions

After too much booze

And mixed with pocketfuls

Of inexperienced,

Overly enthused

Disney-like

Naivety.

I remember laughing the first time he undressed me,

Crying the first time I came,

And settling in when I should have been leaving.

I thought me broken hearted-

But it was not so,

Could not,

Never have been-

You need to know the heart

Before it can break

And this man child had yet to meet

The beat that bleed him.

And so,

It was the first full stop,

Dublin Done.

Moving on…

Amid cobbled streets

And Marais magic

The boy became truly man-

Removed, replaced,

Relocated,

Refreshed- alone,

No longer island bound

No longer thought to be ‘Known’ by the common crowd.

A new kingdom- to find freedom in-

Lay await at my feet

And there I was,

Suddenly,

In the middle of it all

And-

Drowning,

Mistaking myself

to be Ardent Adventurer!

Explorer Extraordinaire!

How I’d convinced myself that

Fly on the wall, watching, dictating, reporting

Was so much more important to an aspiring artist

Than a dived in, soaked up, part of it all, competitor!

And then time, slowly,

Unbeknownst to me,

Drew me out,

Pulled me in,

Lessened my wide-eyed glare,

Cleaned my cumbersome and clumsy character

And left me

Grown,

As we do,

Totally unaware

Not able to pinpoint the very moment,

Or time,

Or place

That it happened-

It was just there-

I could feel it,

I caught it in my own reflection

Within the eyes of other men-

Bigger men,

Older men,

Grown men,

Who now seemed not so different any more,

And in that reflection

I fell surprised,

Shocked

Because nothing had changed in that person that stared back at me

But somehow,

Inexpressibly,

Everything was different.

There have been, of course,

Other lands,

Other men,

Many moments of madness,

Sadness,

Gladness.

Touches and tendernesses.

Lovers I’ve left and

Friends that I’ve lost

But they are, so often,

Like time- all fleeting,

They do not stay for long-

Forever is not for everyone.

But in my heart-

Which is now known

And heard

And occasionally understood-

There is the place for those

Who indeed have proved

Irreplaceable-

The pillars upon which I gaze

And markers toward that life

I wish to lead.

They are crowning

A new King, today

In this foreign City

That somehow,

Over time,

Has found its way to be familiar-

And I think somewhere

Amid it’s watery streets

Lies my future in waiting.

And, as I dress by the mirror,

On April’s last dawning,

I wonder to myself

As I catch that reflection-

Still so familiarly different-

When next will I feel

More King

In me

Than fool.

photo-21

The War Of the Worlds

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How did it feel to hang

By nails

And wait for a death

You were born to endure?

Created by The Father

As a symbol

Of His power

To save

A crumbling humanity.

He gave you life

For it to be ripped from your body.

No saving grace for you,

No end to the pain,

No Lord to help you.

The Father,

The Protector,

The Divine Creator

Silently watching

As your human pain

Pours

From your human body.

Did you suffer a lifetime

For every second

That you remained

In that earthly body,

Punctured by earthly hands,

Jeered by earthly voices,

Cried for by earthly women?

Did Mary know the gift

Weaned upon her bosom

Would depart this world so heinously?

Did She trust

In the promise of Heaven,

Did She believe

In the prophecy of Angels-

Even at the end

When your screams

Shuck the Heavens?

Did you question your Father’s promise

Of a seat by His side

While the cold nails

Split your flesh

And the shimmering blade

Slaughtered your sides?

A Jew hated by Jews,

A Jew betrayed by Jews.

Did you foresee

On the cross

How the world would shake

In your aftermath?

Your Father sacrificed you

For the salvation of humanity

But ever since

That salvation

Has waged wars

In his name.

He first split the Earth

From the Heavens

And then he let man

Split the Earth in two.

Did you die in vain

Or did you die to show that the innocent must suffer?

But what is lost most through suffering

Is innocence.

Eye lids stitched open

So no pain goes unseen,

Voices raised

So we hear each and every scream.

Today

The crosses around our necks

Are adorned with jewels and pearls,

That day-

On the cross,

As you rose from humanity,

Did you foresee

The war of the worlds?

photo-19

NOTRE LIT

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Missing your smoky strains

And longing for everything to be like those

Sometimes hazy,

Sometimes crystal clear

Memories I made in you

While you floated along,

Untouched and unfazed,

By that crazy mixture

Of bureaucracy and chaos

That was as deep rooted in you

As the pride was in your citizens-

Or what the rest of the world would call

Your Arrogance.

Your streets of cobbled charm,

Filled with cafés of impatient waiters-

All of which I forgave

And became to me

A part of your ingrained features;

Those habits your lover performs

Which pinch the skin

But you would be lost as to what to do

Should they suddenly disappear.

Your gargantuan gargoyles and their ghostly glare-

What sights their stone eyes have seen.

Your men for whom I swooned

And lost words

And blushed.

The passion-

Alive in the heart of you.

The affection-

I never lost for you.

And the romance-

Strolling along your banks

As the sun set

On each new day

Of my new life

Within you.

The person that became me

As I found my form

Behind your walls-

I surrendered to you

All that was before

And would ever be again.

For all that I am-

It is because of what you showed me.

For all that I lack-

It is everything that I left in our bed-

Sleep softly on it.

—

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

 

Remembrances along the roadside

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That day- do you remember?

In the car, me- racing away

And you- running,

Me- crying,

and you- waving.

Do you remember?

He was inside- watching, brewing, stewing.

Unable to say what it was that he wanted,

Unable to stop what he had from escaping.

We were outside- turned inside out,

Silenced to the limit,

The end had arrived; childhood given over to adult reality.

That day- do you remember?

Me, being driven away-

Leaving the only home I’d ever known.

Leaving the home he’d broken with silence-

That icy cold reserve; reserved for the undeserved-

Me, you, Mum and the multitude of others

Who tried in vain to hold out a hand;

To reach him, to touch him.

I hear his laughter,

Somewhere in the back of my mind,

Somewhere where that boy still resides

And remember that cutting smile,

That ice cold stare and those eyes that night

When they cut like a blade.

That day- do you remember?

You chased me all along and down the road

As Dympna drove and Mother cried in the seat behind.

You- with tears in your eyes

As the car tore me away from all I’d ever know.

I know that boy’s still inside, somewhere,

Painting his bedroom, playing in the attic,

Writing words to help him understand

And patiently praying that all parents were perfect.

—

All words by Damien B. Donnelly

 

Italian Thoughts

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You washed over me today-

Darkest hair, hazel of eyes

And that lower luscious lip-

As I retraced those steps

From a lifetime ago

And found myself

Lost again-

Like all those years ago-

When I’d first fallen

Upon this Sea of a City,

Back when your heart

Had begun to feel

More like mine

Than mine itself.

I’d walked that narrow walled city

That day

As gallant green waters

Glistened along side me

And I listened out for the ghosts

Of past parties

In Taffeta skirts-

Giggling

And with masked faces-

Smiling

Before I stopped,

And by this very bridge,

I called you

And told you

I’d fallen

And thought nothing of those rushing waters

Beneath me-

Their movement,

Their depth,

Their current-

How far they can take you

From the shore.

I thought us to be as inseparable

As Gondola from Gondolier

And yet we sank

As surely as the City will itself

One day,

Some day

When time itself has forgotten all about

The lovers who laughed

And loved

And kissed

And promised-

Just like us

Before the waves washed us over

And around

And in between,

Before our hands let go

And you slipped away to dance through other lands,

In other hands,

That Time and Space that time has almost forgotten

And yet,

Do you know-

There are times

When my lower lip trembles

With the memory

Of your kiss

And the weight

Of your heart

When I wore it?

—

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

 

Adapted to Adoption

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Removed from you,

I hear your words more clearly.

You failed to understand me,

You neglected to comprehend my lack of questions

For the one from whose tribulations I was born.

What understanding could I have of myself-

When I failed to understand who I am?

And yet- my love removed- see this:

See the woman-

still wet from birth-

Look upon me with swollen eyes

And say goodbye.

See this woman embrace her child-

For all too short one silent moment-

And say goodbye.

Do I feel her pain today-

Or was there any there at all?

What does she think of me today-

Or does she think of me at all?

What right do I have to invade her life

To awaken her present to the wounds of her past?

Hers was the choice-

not mine.

Hers was the loss-

not mine.

Hers was the sacrifice-

not mine-

Not me.

So do not question me when I do not question myself.

Oft’ times I shall wonder but ne’r shall I intrude.

Old wounds have healed and in my hand the knife shall not turn.

I was embraced by others

While she said her goodbyes.

I have been loved by others

Since she relinquished her ties.

You make me laugh as I sit here alone,

You make me wonder-

Could you ever understand who I am?

—

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

 

Thierry’s Line

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One ordinary,

Rather hot summer night-

Nothing special, nothing different-

In my mind’s eye I ran my finger down the line of hair

That ran from your chest

Before it disappeared beneath your shorts

As the breeze blew open your shirt and I caught the smile in your eye

As you read my thoughts.

You,

With your short dark hair-

Amid a season of blondes that I was tiring of-

You,

Who I never kissed or lay with,

Who I never undressed outside of that one dizzy dream.

Later that night-

Fuelled on cocktails while our friends fell distracted by a jovial waiter-

You took my finger and brushed it along that same hair line.

Nothing said,

Nothing promised;

Just that fine line between you and I.

You,

With your eyes which shone that night towards a blue shade of green,

You,

With your black jeans, red shirt

And tan which stopped just short of where that line disappeared.

We told tales,

Shared drinks,

Swapped numbers

But time, in its humour,

Fell shorter than either of us had imagined.

You seemed like the first man I’d seen in such a long time

Having been lost for a while in a sea of bleached blonds-

All as harmless as they were hairless

While I cavorted about their baby soft skins

With careless concerns for complacency.

But you looked like something else

On that fortuitous night

As the setting sun sizzled

And breezes briefly blew bodies bare.

That tremendous night when nothing really happened

Except for the soft touch of that line I never managed to cross

But-

More importantly-

The line I never managed to forget.

—

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly