MORE OR LESS SENSELESS NONSENSE

 

What if spiders were pink
What if rats had a perm
What if mozzies sang sweetly
What if fear was just a term

What if mice poohed diamonds
What if worms wore hats
What if medicine tasted of vodka
What if lions were the size of cats

What makes thunder threatening
What makes darkness dour
What makes silence sinister
What makes lemons sour

What if pigs wore perfume
What if sweat didn’t stink
What if Monday was Friday
What if nothing was as we think

What if panthers had pigtails
What if ants wore pants
What if ghosts were glitzy
What would you rhyme with pants

What if sad was happy
What if funny was just a taste
What if the end was just the beginning
What if this poem is too silly to paste?

 

SEEN IN THE SEA

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I see you
Sweep across my feet
As I sink between
The sand and the shore,

I see you
Seep neath my skin
In a sensation so
Soothing and seductive,

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I feel your
Currents caress me
Drawing me into depths
A darkness devoid of fear,

I feel your
Fluid fill my lungs
Flowing with the force
Of being found and being free,

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I see you
Rise within me
Until I see myself
No longer, no more,

I see you
Until I open my eyes
And the dream is gone,
But what remains?

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All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

BY A MOMENT IN TIME

What do you see in me,
As your eyes bore into me,
Review me, regard me?
Are you looking at me, within
For a version of yourself, without?
A comfort, consolation, connection?
Am I your opposite or your equal,
Your reflection or your desire?
What subtle certainly sways you
To share your secrets, so suddenly,
Your dreams and your desires,
Your appetites and aberrations?
What tenacious tendency
Towards the truth tempts you
To touch me, take me, taste me?

What was that calmness
That cuddled in between us?
And your voice, like a sound
I was weaned on and your hold,
Like the touch, a trigger, a trace
Of attraction, always known.

Did the world really stop,
Did time slow down
To meet us, to find us?
Us, two strangers
Names newly known,
Body by body, body on body,
Your eyes open and watching,
Watching you, watching me,
Taking, tasting, releasing,
Tension washing away.

It is flesh
At the end of the day,
We are people
At the end of the day,
We have desires
At the end of the day,
We have needs
At the end of the day,
What is wrong
At the end of the day?
Who we make love to
At the end of the day?
Your tastes, your looks,
Your penis, your vagina
Your fears, who fed them,
Your scars, who bled them.

It started and I waited
But you didn’t say no,
You smiled and then held me
And just let it go;

For this moment,
For this night,
For all you believe
And all that feels right,
For all that you fear
Let the senses guide you,
For all you’ve resisted
Let the curiosity drive you.

For all that you question,
And all that you need,
Let this moment find you
Finally freed.
Let tomorrow’s thoughts
Not try to tease you,
Let the fear of the future
Not find or freeze you.

So hold my hand,
And touch my skin,
As you feel my breath
Upon your chin.
Sense my lips
Touching yours,
Forget the time,
Forget the jeers.
Take this moment
As just a chapter
Worry not now
For the ever after.

We are adults aroused
By a moment in time,
We are bodies entwined,
Me in yours and you in mine.

I Smile

I smile
To break the silence,
I smile
To deflect the darkness,
I smile
To wake the day,
I smile
To kill the fear,
I smile
To steady the tears, falling,
I smile
To remind myself I can,
I smile
To remind myself of all that can be, better,
I smile
To find the joy,
I smile
To hear the music,
I smile
To feel alive,
I smile
To laugh in the face of depression,
I smile
To let the love in,
I smile
To let the negative out,
I smile
Because it is a choice,
I smile
Because the other is too much,
I smile
Because I cried, before,
I smile
Because I am here, today,
I smile
Because I am living, now,
I smile
Because I am a part of it all;

The freedom and the chaos,
The push and the pull,
The living and the dying,
The beginning and the end,
The tears and the happiness,
The folly and the fate.

I smile
Because it’s more beautiful than a frown.
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WICKED WILLS

The wolves are out,
Baying in the shadows,
Fetid breath fowling air,
Drool dribbling in the darkness.
The wolves are out,
Growling gratuitously,
Muzzle sniffing movement,
Fangs feverish for flesh.
The wolves are out,
Their scent; steaming,
Their eyes; searching
For substance to satisfy.
The wolves are out,
Their panting petrifying,
Prowling on poised paws
Picturing us as prey
The wolves are out,
Our streets; their forest now,
Our buildings; their shelter,
Our fear; their force.
The wolves are out,
Drawing disguises
From our likenesses,
Slivering among us
Sniffing out old scars
And worn wounds
To leap at lavishly,
Devour on desperately.
The wolves are out,
Tail twisted in and under,
Standing tall on hind legs,
Shaved bodies to assimilate,
Poured over in perfume
But their stench lingers
To stale the street.
The wolves are out,
There’s horror in their howling
And chaos in their cackling,
Predators posing as persons,
But no pretence parts them
From their purpose
And I worry what their wicked will wants.

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Pride and Prejudice, Beating the Bullies

I crept through corridors
Crying as a kid
In the corruption of
Cusses and curses,
Cruel and cringeworthy
Comments carried on carelessly
As comedy from cunning clowns
Whose calculus capabilities
Calculated to nothing more than
Calamitous catastrophes.
And so, to cover up this calamity,
I became their casualty,
Caught up in a cross fire
Of uncultured and uncultivated contempt,
Considering themselves
Capable comedians
And casting me center court
As their callous words
Cut and crippled me,
Corroding the core
Into a clunk of inescapable
And incomprehensible confusions,
Casting a cloud on every class,
A crisis in every playground,
And causing countless
Creative excuses
For cutting school
And cowering
In the cowardice
Of my cursed
Conviction.

You frightened
The fuck out of this
Fellow you named faggot
For nothing more than fun
And festered no more in me
Than a fear for feelings
I was far too young
To figure or fathom,
Forcing me to fight
For a freedom I felt
I freely deserved
But fortune falsely favoured
Fools, back then,
The faculty of footballers
Whose fractions fired
Fantastical favouritism,
The fundamental flaw of the feeble,
And frowned on frail fairies
Who followed the rules
But failed to find
Firm footing
On the field.

I drifted
Through dark days
That dug their way
Into darker nights,
Where dreams drew you
As demons
Distastefully delegated
To degrade me,
Deflate me, detest me,
Depict me
As depraved
Despicable deviant.
I didn’t know
That I’d dared to be
That different
Though I thought myself,
Even then,
More deserving
Than the deluge
Of your devilishly displaced
Discrimination.

I wonder now
If you’ve been
Withered and wizened
By your wicked ways?
Have you watched the world
And witnessed it grow?
How is the grown-up now,
Grown up?
Grown gradually good,
Greater, grateful
Or just more greasy,
Grim and grotesque?

Do they still bark of your bravado
Behind the bikes sheds,
In the bar rooms,
At the ball games?

I am better now,
Brighter and braver,
Reborn from the bullied boy
You couldn’t break,
Built a backbone in spite of all your backlash.
I am better balanced now
And see your barbarian banter
As nothing more than beastly, base, banality.
I am beyond your belligerent beliefs now,
And have broken
From the blemishes
You bored into me,
Bored me with,
By your bigoted bitterness,
Through your blackened brutishness
And see the blasphemy
Not in how bent I was
But in the bloodthirsty bully
The boisterous brotherhood
Begged you to become.

I have since grown
And gained
In all the gaiety
That a graceful God
Once gave me
And I see now,
Nothing more,
Nothing much,
Nothing lasting
In the power
You once pretended to possess
over my Pride and your Prejudice.

Pity be the preposterous
For profanity perishes before it prevails.

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Haunted

The ghost

I’m haunted by

Is the one I’ve created

Myself, alone,

Singlehandedly,

Without intension

Or foresight,

Without the slightest foundation

To fright.

The ghost

I’m haunted by-

Lurking but a fraction away

From a fingers touch,

Like the mind numbing

Manipulation

Of a menacing muscle

Convulsively contracting,

That lingers

Amid a thousand other

Consciously thought out,

Relatively reasonably

Fears-

Is that one

That chills the most

Being from my own hand

Uniquely and ubiquitously

Carved in slivers

Of tempered steel.

The ghost

That haunts me

From Winter’s Fall

To Summers end

Is not

The nocturnal nuisance

Of nightmares,

Nor the shape shifter

Behind the sheet-

Shivering in shadows,

Nor the mythical entity

Or pulsating phantom

Of plasmic slime.

The ghost

That haunts me

In waking breath

And sleeping dream,

That resides on the edge

Of my happiness

And motivates the core

Of my sadness,

Is none other than I,

Myself

Or rather the self

I must become,

But the fear,

In truth,

Is what happens

If

I fall forgotten

Before begun.

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All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Haunted Heart

What particular particle

Of the self

Left itself behind

In your absence?

What form of matter

Is this

That moves

When all else in the night

Sleeps soundly?

Because here I am,

Stirred so,

My body jerked alert,

My eyes wide open

And my senses

Shouting to me

That you’ve just left the room.

And yet,

I know deep within

The deception

That resides in this thinking,

I know this feeling

Lacking in fact,

I know this belief

To be hallow of truth.

It is not

And cannot be,

In any reasonable way,

Your scent I can smell

Still sitting in this now chilly air.

It is not,

And likewise should not be,

The soft shuffle of your shoes

I can hear crossing the hall.

Tell me now,

In all seriousness-

With my conscious mind in control,

How I could believe it to be

The touch of your hand

That brushed me from slumber

Or the gentle kiss of your lips

On my neck, so soft,

That teased me out of a dream?

Why is it that now,

So much more than before,

You are the resonance of every

Waking thought,

As if all else

Were but secondary servings

Of something less substantial.

I am failing

In these nocturnal

Awakenings

To understand

How your absence

Speaks more about you

Than your presence,

All memories

Now more concrete fact

Than what was formerly a reality.

How does this present

Present you

More to me now

Than in the past?

I held your hands,

In those final moments,

Before you found your freedom

As the darkness

Released you finally

While everything else lost itself-

For what seemed like forever-

To silence

And a darkness of another sort

Fell upon my life

In your passing

And floundered to find its exit

Within me,

For so long after.

You see,

My dilemma,

My dearly departed-

I thought you gone,

I thought us done,

I thought our forever, over.

And yet,

Here I am-

Sitting up alone

Where once we lay together-

Blind to the sight of you

But convinced

Deep down,

In the depths of my soul,

That you feel me,

Hear me

And see me.

I know, with every ache of this solitary existence,

That you have left this earth for good,

But I cannot explain,

In any humanly perceivable way,

How much I feel you haunting my heart.

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Nothing of Noise

I awoke last night-

Still drowsy from dreaming-

To be enveloped instantly

By a surreal silence

As the darkness

Carried the weight of your absence

To the depths

Of its sulking shadows.

I sat there,

Alone and shaking-

Upright in the bed-

Blanketed

In an all too restrictive covering

Of icy cold, concrete-like blackness-

Unable to breath,

Too fearful to move-

For so long had I been with you

That without you

Was so much more

Than my being could possibly

Comprehend.

It was palpable

Your loss-

And I was un-comforted

By this dead air

That lingered

In the wake of your exodus.

The constant company

Of your companionship

Had been so normal,

So ordinary,

Such a daily acceptance

Of my waking life,

That to be deprived

Of all imaginable sound

Felt, last night,

In that newly prisoned room,

Like flesh ripped from bone,

Sight removed from eye,

Sense depleted from skin-

How powerfully your presence

Had domination over me

And how foolish I was

In my failure to notice.

I awoke last night

Distracted by a dis-ease

That slithered itself around me

Like a soiled serpent

As I fought my way

Through random reasons

Why you’d decided to dis-passionately desert me.

Fled fast- had you

After what you’d decided was our last act?

Had enough,

Had your fill,

Composed your composition upon me

And now

No more was I someone to muse over,

No more to play upon,

Practice upon,

Empress your tune upon.

Silence.

Was this more commonplace

Than I dared

Imagine

Or understand?

Had there been others before,

Others left behind,

Before me,

By you,

Left alone and abandoned

In the vicious vacuum

Of emptiness

That your departure creates?

I awoke last night-

But you being so far removed would have never known-

And all I could muster

Were tiny inaudible breaths

As my skin prickled over

In goose flesh

To amplify the remaining senses

While the hair rose high on the back of my neck.

For a moment,

I thought I detected your return

And darted from bed to window

To welcome you joyously-

Honestly and hole-heartedly

Yet it was all but hope

Highlighted by memory

Without a single footing in reality.

But I stood there,

In silence-

Standing still,-

Watching,

Wishing,

Waiting,

Willing you, silently

To show your head,

Sound the alarm,

An alarm, any alarm.

Re-claim your position at the top of the senses.

Re-claim me as your valued courter, customer, lover,

And above all-

Listener.

Leave me not like this;

Cast astray to only taste, touch and see.

Blast me once more into the wailing world,

Scream me into subservient submission.

Build for me an orchestra at the foot of my bed

To fill my sleepless days and wakeful nights

With stirring strings and operatic arias;

Cascading compilations of chaotic cacophonies.

Leave me not like this-

Not now

After so long-

After such a union was made-

Since eyes were first opened

And ears

First heard.

Name me not silently defeated,

Challenged,

Muted.

Blast me

Once more

With the full force

Of your symphonic soundings

And see how my ears shall tremble upon the tone.

Abandon me not to this stilted silence

Where nothing pains my ears more than this nothingness.

I awoke last night,

Still drowsy from dreaming-

Dreaming of you-

The only place where you still roar me to life.

I awoke last night

To what I have now truly learned is silence

And screamed in my head

For a nanosecond

Of noise.

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