BLINDING LIGHT

Blanket light,

blinding

in the back seat,

not all light is light,

the sun can burn through its beauty,

the mind can tear through its thoughts

as wheels will themselves

across these bridges,

feet too far from the ground

to feel its gravity,

we build our own graves

along these roadside reveries.

Blanket light,

burning

in the back seat,

leather licks skin,

we cannot wash away the dust,

we cannot break away

from that grey light

burning bright behind the sunlight,

we are desert bound or ocean open;

we either dry up or seek salvation

in the comfort the current creates.

Blanket light,

a burning blindness breaking

through the open window

on this back-seat taxi-taker.

Destination is not always the desire

when running from reason.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

HOOKED

 

Time washes onwards

but I recall each wave

I welcomed

over body

like a cover of comfort

like a blanket of trust,

a surrender to the water

warm, deep breath and dive

without drowning,

I recall each wave

but forget

how far it swept

from the shore,

 

how it left

each time

with a wanting

for more

as I drifted further

though I cannot swim

 

I am only fool

not fish

and how you fished…

 

how your hook cut

so deep.

 

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on SoundCloud…