Destruction – Deuxiemepeau Poetry by Damien B. Donnelly

THE AMBIGUOUS PASSING OF THE PASTORAL

Things move slowly here like the browningof a leaf, like the lichen along the barkthat comes on like considered kissesto comfort the cold and some things just stick like the tossed blue bag the wind has woundaround the briar, like the damp within the bricksof those choked up cottages not even demandwill come to disturb. […]

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IN PARIS. A PAIR. TASTING

We ate late, always- dinner a meal of plucked observations as much to titillate as to taste. We devoured each other, always- before dessert added too much sweetness to our combative copulations. Sometimes I pressed my mouth so hard against your lips that you’d have to swallow your own words. Sometimes when we weren’t […]

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BOOKENDS; SLOW MOVING SORROW

In the supermarket on Saturday in the 14th on the 14th in numb November in Paris, their Paris, our Paris, my Paris, people push grief in comfortless trolleys down shadowed aisles of silence, strangers claiming their spaces in solidarity, in queues of slow-moving sorrow, seeing shadow in places where once there was light, terror in […]

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CLOUD’S ILLUSIONS

Gardens grow, trees get taller, clouds gather. I see you in the movement, in the air that rushes past time turning, in the scent of sweetened summer now swept into corners now shaded. Clouds gather, trees get taller, gardens grow smaller. Eden is an illusion lost. All words and photographs by Damien […]

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HOW MANY LETTERS DOES IT TAKE TO SPELL OUT ENOUGH?

And as they bit into the apple they lost their right to the garden. Hands are tipped now with guns, now, instead of gold, instead of gloves. Rage is the new ricochet where once it was rock and roll; bullets are the new Beatles. Facebook has alerts, now, to say you’re alive, now, after, […]

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THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

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; […]

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SUMMER’S STORM

Heaven’s howling! Summer forsaken, storms converge, heaven’s howling! We have flittered too long fowling; nature forsaken, gods now purge our wasted ways, our sloth, our splurge, heaven’s howling! All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly This is a repost.

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THE BLACK OF NIGHT

See, he says to the child by his side, see how the water rises. Wait, he says to the child by his side, to see how life surprises. Dark, he says, is the black of night, the stars too far to enlighten. But day, he says to the child in his wake, brings a […]

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TO SLIP BENEATH REFLECTION

Drawn to the river where the sunlight bends to bleed as the hush on the water finds a hold among the reeds.to Caught by the current as if to slip from this climate, as if we could lose what we’ve learnt, as if all noise could fall to silent. To wade into the water, […]

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SPELLING PEACE, day 19 of A Month with Yeats

It’s day 19 of Jane Dougherty’s brilliantly creative and challenging A Month with Yeats poetry challenge and today’s quote is a second one from ‘The Valley of the Black Pig’: ‘We who still labour by the cromlech on the shore, the grey cairn on the hill, when day sinks drowned in dew, being weary of […]