Fragility

THE GARDEN OF THE MOON

/ deuxiemepeau / Leave a comment

–

There is a shadow,

like a dream too delirious

to light with language,

whispering more of what swam away

than smears this still water

I trudge through

beIow a bitter moon

that’s made his garden

in this breast of man.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly with the aid of the magnetic poetry oracle

SEASONAL CYCLES

/ deuxiemepeau / 1 Comment

–

Winter’s withering winds

rustle through berry’s blossom

in the gentle dawn, falling

on these days of the daffodil.

I walk by wild water

in a world wild of will.

Bloom beneath spring

summer; a blanket beautiful,

seasons are cycles,

sweet that song from seed to stone.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly influenced by the lunchtime magnetic poetry oracle

WE ARE SEASONS

/ deuxiemepeau / 7 Comments

–

Spring sun sweet on skin

that still recalls the rain,

(it is not just raindrops that fall)

drunk is the forest beneath

those blood red moons

(blind are we to the fires we started).

Will you swim through the shadow

to beat away these bitter blues?

Beauty is a ship of summer symphony,

we are whispers to be worshiped

before our season stops to sing.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly with the help of the magnetic poetry oracle.

FLEETING BLUSHES

/ deuxiemepeau / Leave a comment

–

We drink eternity,

soft, slow, salty,

like coffee cups

of unexplored ocean blues,

breathing in dark stars,

bleeding in the wake

of the wild breeze

that has no home

in these fatherless trees,

eyes moist by this window of time,

a prisoner of this smoky glass.

We are porcelain colored in concrete,

a brilliant blush of delirious desire

before decay.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly and gifted from today’s magnetic poetry oracle.

JOY IN BETWEEN

/ deuxiemepeau / 5 Comments

 

Bones break,
hearts hurt,
love is lost,
birth
is the beginning of death,

in between there is joy:
waste not being weak

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Poetry prompt Weak from Micropoetry on Twitter

BETWEEN THE BONE AND THE BROKEN, PART 5; UNDER A FOLD IN THE OCEAN

/ deuxiemepeau / Leave a comment

 

Under bedclothes,
under darkness,
under the weight
of all that once was,
I twist and turn
through folds
that blankets
can’t seem to find
freedom from.

Under. Weight.

Under water,
undercurrent,
under pressure
at the deep end
of denial,
I twist and turn
through waves
the sea
can’t seem to
ship back to shore.

Under. Pressure.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on Soundcloud: