Fear, I Think

Daylight, upon path, fallsprey to shadow. In wrath,I’ve robbed its sunlight.Fear? I think I understand. Sinking sand leadsto hills below the harbourof forgetting. Fear?I think I understand. Voices call of a troubled mind.Block the light! With flashesI think I understand;fear is a stepping stone.

Read More…

WE HAVE EATEN ALL WE COULD NOT ACCEPT – IMBOLC

Come Imbolc / we’ve left the gate on the latch / waiting Come Imbolc / turn us over and all else / outWe’ve left out straw to ignite ashes into actionInto obliteration / cleanse this dust / this despair Come Imbolc / empty us / our bellies lie openEager to be burped / belched / […]

Read More…

OBITUARIES. FATHER’S DAY

  You loved watching football and found joy in the obituaries; the last lines of life after it had been lost. You liked watching the news and thrived while washing the car, in the driveway, on a Saturday and maybe again on a Sunday after handing the missal out at mass, rubbing and scrubbing over […]

Read More…

BLANK CANVASES

  Light can be ubiquitous, even in the darkness of youth but it’s not always lucid- sometimes it twists shadows into shapes that seem so much more sinister. Innocence is a bright spark that can be knocked down to stunted shadow by a thoughtless twist in the tale or a pedestal pitched at an imperfect […]

Read More…

ART ISN’T EASY

  Colour catches on canvas as we lean towards light, a beam to break the boredom like a breath above the water after diving up from darkness, ripples run across the current, ink spreads out like veins upon this page; art isn’t easy, breathing isn’t any better- both come up from down below, rise through […]

Read More…

SHORT STORIES OF FEAR; BETWEEN THE PANES

A short story The wife. I am a wife. I am a mother. There is a brown house with a red picket fence surrounding it that has our name upon the old fashioned and outdated post box. I can’t remember ever really receiving post. Real post; letters stamped with fondness and posted with a hope […]

Read More…

SHORT STORIES OF FEAR; A MATTER OF MUD

  A Short Story The Americans and British were bent on finding Jim Morrison while the Irish and Japanese, for some reason, longed to add more kisses to the now ball-less Sphinx lingering over the long decayed body of Wilde, who probably watched down over their stupidity, proffered some wicked wit as their rouged up […]

Read More…

THE GARDEN OF THE MOON

  There is a shadow, like a dream too delirious to light with language, whispering more of what swam away than what smears this still water I trudge through below a bitter moon that has made his garden in this breast of man.   All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly This is a […]

Read More…

NORTH OF THE NOISE

  And so I come north where the air cuts colder, where daylight is a breath that barely bays, night a blanket bound to days. I am not here to stay but on a sway through ticking time, to see what rests where the light is less, where day finds end before being truly bent, […]

Read More…