Poetry

Fall And All by Elan Mudrow

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And yet another gem among the ‘gibberish’ from the wonderful Elan Mudrow…

“This sun is beating down too hot, too early. Can’t you see how this new spring is fooling the trees? They like it at first, unfurling their leaves in premature green, then July hits and they think it’s September. It’s so much like us. Sometimes, I swear we build things before thinking about repercussions. Because… […]

via Fall And All — Elan Mudrow

I don’t remember — Jane Dougherty Writes

/ deuxiemepeau / 2 Comments

Hello All,

Happy 1st of May, in Paris the sun is bursting and the flowers are blooming and I started the day by running so not a bad start to the month so far.

I’ve been so busy with work and wedding dresses and writing for NaPoWriMo that I haven’t had much time to read but some words are just to precious not to share, like Jane’s...

I don’t remember the house where I was born nor the first words that I spoke, first steps, first smile. I don’t remember the day I started school nor the first time I saw the sea. The first ride on a train, a plane, forgotten with familiarity. I don’t remember the last time I saw […]

via I don’t remember — Jane Dougherty Writes

THE SCENTED ROAD

/ deuxiemepeau / 3 Comments

The 30th poem on the 30th day of April for National Poetry Writing Month

 

And on runs the road,
rushing in rings around us,
faster than feet can find footing, 
brisker than bodies can breath, 
holds lost in the hustle and hurry,
securities slipping by the sidelines,
hearts hurtling off into hills 
parted and passed
before properly appreciated, 
faces fading into flashbacks;
were his green eyes 
really brown or blue?
I catch his aftershave
in an afterthought 
but it’s mixed now 
with other musks,
other bodies, other owners,
other moulds the meanders made of me
on the sweaty scented streets
that scurry by in seconds.
 
And on runs the road,
tracks turning with time 
too tight to keep track of,
to uncertain to ascertain 
as changing lanes change lives
and loads, luggage left for others
to look through and lovers
left for others to latch onto;
swapping suitors at service stations 
like they were something to eat,
something to drink,
a seduction along the sojourn,
a kiss to capture and captivate us,
to carry us carnally on to the next carriage,
the next imminent interchange. 

And so another road opens
and on it endlessly runs
and I’m always rushing at the rear,
duly dreading and delighting 
in the connections to come
beyond the bracing bends…

All Words and Photography by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken in De Hoge Veluwe, Netherlands

Listen to the audio version on Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/the-scented-road

 

CAUGHT IN THE CONSCIOUSNESS

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Curious are the occasions 
you come into consciousness, 
like colours caught 
out of season, without 
a reason you slip in 
between the solace 
to accentuate the silence,
the stillness and the distance.
 
Curious are the occasions 
you come into consciousness,
like lyrics lost
to their line, without
reason or rhyme, you are mine
through the miles, a million
smiles emerging for time
to divide, derail and deride.

Curious are the occasions
you come into consciousness,
like a photo forgotten
then found as if to remind,
to rebound on possibilities
pondered, attachments
attempted and those
connections long cemented.

Curious are the occasions 
you come into consciousness,
like a hold that can be held 
in hindsight, and suddenly
there is kindness in the place
of confusion, comfort
in the place of exclusion,
hope in between the illusion…

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Listen to the audio version on Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/caught-in-the-consciousness

RISEN

/ deuxiemepeau / 1 Comment

risen

I cross bridges blindfolded

not afraid of the heights
I could fall from

but aware of the ocean
of emptiness
I have risen from.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken in Södermalm, Stockholm, Sweden 

AMSTERDAM CALLING

/ deuxiemepeau / 2 Comments

I heard you today 
on the metro, 
in the morning, 
words falling
from foreign tongues 
as the train took me
so much further 
than the tracks permitted. 

I heard you today
in the distance,
calling, 
after the departure, 
a language dissolving the borders 
that bind us now broken 
but a hold still held
that I hadn’t considered. 

I heard you today 
from the other side of the track,
on the other side of goodbye 
where I knew 
the grass was greener,
where the felt 
the need was greater,
I heard you
still existing 
encore
nog steeds 
within me
but buried deep
under movement, metros 
and current concerns. 

I heard you today
on the other side of the metro,
in this new metropolis of old
unstoppable,
unbreakable, 
unforgiving,
unchanging,
while I stop
and fall
and break
and change
yearly
monthly
weekly
daily
 
I heard you today
as you whispered 
from my memories
a delightful
hello. 

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

IN HIS PLACE

/ deuxiemepeau / 5 Comments

 

And slowly the bud unfolded,
new life in bloom
as the leaves trembled
like clapping hands
while the heavens hushed.

And slowly the bud unfolded,
a spring in song,
the frost now falling
like melting tears
on her gentle face.

And slowly the bud unfolded,
as he had said,
as he had promised
when life was long
and time eternal.

And slowly the bud unfolded,
life flowing in,
the day now brighter,
air now fresher,
her loss now lighter.

And slowly the bud unfolded,
and in the breeze
she heard him whisper;
“You’ll smile again
when the buds will bloom.”

And slowly the bud unfolded,
a song in spring,
as he had promised,
a love to last,
their touch eternal.
And slowly the blood unfolded
and silence took his place…

Until slowly the bud unfolded
and in its beauty she saw his face.

 

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Listen to the audio recording on Soundcloud:

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

/ deuxiemepeau / 3 Comments

We were meant to be nothing more
than the compliment to you,
calm and considerate,
not the conqueror;
covetous and carnal.

We were meant to be nothing more
than the guardian of you,
grateful and gracious,
not just gluttony
grounded in greed.

We were meant to be nothing more
than the homemaker in you,
humble and harmonious,
not all harmful,
hungry and hoggish.

We were meant to see the beauty
and not become the beast.

All Words and Photographs and Watercolour by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken in Balmoral, Scotland.

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