SWALLOWED BY THE STILLNESS

28/01/201616/08/2021 / deuxiemepeau / 3 Comments

Swallowed by the stillness,
all life now a reflection
of what was once movement,
of all that once beat against the current.

He walked along the wood,
slipped along the steps
and swam into the stillness
that settled on the silence
Of the morning not yet woken

and the trees beside the river
reached down into the water
as he slipped beneath reflections
letting go of all connections

out into the water
down below the surface

and all that he once was
became the light that broke the day
and all that he had feared
in the water washed away
and all he had seen
rose back up to the surface,
now a reflection on a surface
that looked into the sky
while the sky looked down from high
Into his reflection
in the water

and it watched as he dissolved
beneath the milky mists of morning
but in the wood he left his footprints,
on the steps he left his hold
and the water took his worries
and in its bed his feet found root
and in his flesh the fish found taste
as he let go of the morning,
as he let go of the waste.

Swallowed by the stillness,
all life now a reflection
of what was once movement,
of all that once was a beat against the current.

All words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

I am following in the footsteps of the wonderful https://jacquelinenashpoetry.wordpress.com and adding audio as an extra with Soundcloud…

OH COUNTRY, MY COUNTRY

24/01/2016 / deuxiemepeau / 3 Comments

Oh country, my country,

once born in your troubled times
and raised by the banks where your Liffey lies,
I followed the paths of generations moved on
to see what they’d built, to see where they’d gone,
but returned to a home now seriously lacking
a nation of consumers complaining and attacking.
Where are your parishioners, the pride of your isle,
your Emerald’s glory once renowned for its smile?

Oh country, dear country,

now bigger than ever in girth if not majesty,
in greed if not glory, in makeup if not unity.
What has become of those simple smiles,
captured in bar songs of other times?
Is summer gone, have the flowers died
did Danny not return to his father’s side?
A nation once raised on songs and stories,
of people poor but proud of their glories.
Are you better beings in designer labels,
Gucci in hand and louboutin’s under tables?
Maleficent muttons playing innocent lambs
slaughtering histories with blood stained palms.

Oh country, once my country,

there’s no truth to your hunger or depth to your drunkenness,
no moral in your manners or reason for your forgetfulness.
Who’ll be your heroes in the years still to come,
who’ll hear your cries and who’ll beat your drum?
Collins was martyred and there’s no more de Valera
the last of your greats were the end of an era,
now it’s fools fickle to the latest fashion fads
tarted-up teenagers and under aged dads.

Oh country, fallen country,

once a force of marching freedom
while looking to other lands for asylum,
now turned and twisted into narrow opinions
while others seek help and die in their millions.
How has racism risen so loud
in a place once paraded as peaceful and proud,
where its people filled ships that sailed on the seas
in the hope that other lands would hear their pleas,
can you rise again from your Holy Ground
adding names to the list of your heroes renowned?

Oh country, lost country,

where Mary’s cries still ring out to the sea
for Michael who told her nothing matter’s when you’re free,
have you washed down too much of your own importance
and forgotten the fight for your own independence?
Can it be that the tiger, in departing, took your best;
your heart and your soul and just spat out the rest.

Oh country, what country,

how can I find my way back to before
when all I once loved has slipped from your shore?

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken at across the fields at sunset in Lusk, Co. Dublin , Ireland

OIL IT!

23/01/201625/01/2018 / deuxiemepeau / Leave a comment

Al Words and Photography by Damien B. Donnelly

THIS IS HOW IT ENDS!

22/01/201616/08/2021 / deuxiemepeau / 4 Comments

He wrote you a love song,
A sonnet full of substance
but it quivered
on a quaver,
percussion
piercing it,
smacking it
suddenly,
separating it
from any sense of
synchronicity,
drums
drowning it
in dissension,
ruining
all reminder
of resonance,
burying it brutally
in the blues,
bare and broken.

He wrote you a love song,
an oscillation of collaboration
that could’ve been,
it should’ve been
a summation
of supple notes
and fervent fingers
but it was
a fabrication,
a falsehood,
a flat note,
a rhythm raiding
the reason
and an opus
attesting to obliteration
without ovation.

He wrote you a love song
This is how it ends!

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

THE TRUTH IN THE WATER

21/01/201616/08/2021 / deuxiemepeau / 7 Comments

I see you, this morning
in sweeping reflections
in the waters, reflected
in the sleeping stillness
of the morning’s silence

as if the world was looking up
as if the sky had fallen down.

I see a tree, a weeping
sea of a tree, leaning,
reflected in the waters,
reflecting its reflection
into milky mists of morning

and I wonder if the world is truly what I see
or if my reflection is the truth
staring up
at me.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

REFLECTIONS ON OUR SHIPS

20/01/201625/01/2018 / deuxiemepeau / 4 Comments

Drifting
a ship at sail
weighted to the wind’s whim
captive to the currents that may come
servant to the sway of the storms
fated to the fickle folly
that lies in wait
down
deep down
deep in the depths
below the ebb and flow
beneath the ripples and reflections

beneath the ripples and reflections
beyond the foggy mists
we send our ships
now drifting
cutting
through the current
the coast no longer his concern
the mountains will mourn him in his passing
the leaves will return to the branches
when spring falls and the fog lifts
and we wait in hope
for the return
of our ships

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph: Morning’s breath upon the water in Stockholm

TO GIVE BUT NOT LET GO

19/01/201625/01/2018 / deuxiemepeau / 2 Comments

Give
give him
she gave him
she gave him life
but she couldn’t keep him.
Give
give him
she gave him
she gave him a name
but she couldn’t call him.
Give
give him
she gave him
she gave him something better
she gave him something brighter.
Give
give him
she gave him
she gave him that forever
she gave him that forever after.
Give
give him
give him up
she gave him life
and he gave her thanks.
Hold
hold him
she held him
she held him once
before they took him.
Him
her son
he; her boy
he; who was her baby
he; who was her sacrifice.
Give
give him
she gave him
she gave him up
but she never let him go.

All Words and sketches by Damien B. Donnelly

‘How I Write’ interview for the Series by Nicola Cassidy

17/01/2016 / deuxiemepeau / Leave a comment

Today you can read my interview for the series ‘How I write’ by author and fellow Irish blogger Nicola Cassidy who describes herself as a writer, blogger, Mum, daughter, wife, sister, singer, marketer, pet owner and pet complainer.

Nicola’s blog features posts on marriage, motherhood, fashion, feminism, pregnancy, parenting and her series ‘How I Write’, interviewing published and unpublished writers to get an inside look at how they approach their craft.

You can also find one of Nicola’s short stories ‘The Blood of Goats’ alongside mine in the http://www.originalwriting.ie ‘Second Chance’ short story anthology which was published in Ireland last year and available to buy online from their website.

http://ladynicci.com/how-i-write/how-i-write-damien-donnelly/