Connections

LANES OF LIFE

/ deuxiemepeau / 8 Comments

Screen Shot 2016-02-04 at 11.55.38

Time tears
through flesh and bone
as it moves towards us
through us             past us
while we try to
linger longer
onto that fragile hold
we have on love

but we are just
cars and connections
caught up in the cacophony
trying to stand in the right lane
with the right person
at the right time
as the clock ticks on
like a heartbeat
like a time bomb

I captured you
on film             in a photo
as they kissed and craved and smiled
while you moved toward them
while you cut through them
then swept past them

before they even saw you.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken in Hong Kong on a rainy night when two lovers held each other tight and life rushed past them.

Audio version available on Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/lanes-of-life

BETWEEN DISTRACTIONS

/ deuxiemepeau / 6 Comments

 

Between
black and white
there are a thousand shades of grey

between
life and death
there are a million things to say

between
I love you
and I love you not

there is more than just hunger and hate

FeelFondFuckFancyFlameFavourFidelityForever
FallacyFuck-upForgetFloutFlingFadeFailingFlee

we are hungry
we eat (more than we should)
and then we hate

you smiled at me
in a sea of sadness I’d grown tired of
a blonde in a season of darker tones
and the distraction deluded me

                            from the truth

are we always alone,
even when we are together?

I held his hand in a taxi
while thinking of another
not yours, not his, but another

I lay in your arms at night
as you lied in mine, behind the light

between laying and lying
there exists a world of truth and disguise

we hate being alone
but devour each other when we are together

devour each other

            to the bone

 

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph of ‘Monument aux morts’ in Pere Lachaise Cemetery, Paris, France.

MOVING MOMENTS

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Falling
Into you

And you
Like my current of air
Catch me.

Smiling,
At all that I see
Neath your honey hazel eyes,
Eyes that echo
The warmth
Of tomorrow’s night
And a future found
In each others arms.

In these moments
With you
There
Are
Lifetimes.

Oh,
How I yearn
For these moments
To last.

IMG_2869

MOMENTS IN A WINDOW

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An old man
Crossed the street
Below my window
And I wondered to myself
Where my future would lie.

I put my hands to my face
And still smelt of you
As if your body still
Entangled with mine.

I am now fully clothed
Though just moments ago
Lay nakedly revealed
In your arms,
Told you stories,
Shared your secrets,
But know not
If you know
My last name.

In the comfort
Of almost strangers
We let darkness take the day,
In the silence
Beneath that darkness-
We let your needs find their way.

In a world waged not by war,
Harmed not by hate,
Torn not by tears,
We’d lie together
With whoever
And in each moment
Let go our fears.

You drove me
Home again tonight
And along the road
We passed a sign which asked
Do you know where you’ll be tomorrow?
Of all the streets,
Of all the towns,
Of all of the predictable possibilities,
I wondered alone
As we sat together,
Like we’d just slept together,
Like we’d just kissed each other,
I wondered was it a sign
Just for me?

The old man
Will cross my street
To the pub
Every night
Till his end,
Of this
I am sure
That he is sure.
But if tomorrow
I will again
Smell your scent
On my hands-
Of this
I am sure
That I’m not sure.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

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

 

Spring Cleaning

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Spring cleaning

As fresh white snow falls by the window.

Spring cleaning;

Filling countless boxes of memories

To be covered up in cupboards,

Hoovering up all you left behind

In corners too tricky to tackle.

Spring cleaning,

Polishing over reflections in mirrors

Of the many moments we made

And washing the bedclothes over and over

And entrusting the rest for time to fade.

Spring cleaning,

In December, with icicle eyes

As snows of white cover the world and its sighs.

—

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly