POSTS AND PINS, LOTUS EATERS, BLOOMSDAY

 

Are there any letters for me?

Soldiers eyes watch
from behind dead frames
while he assumes to be a flower.

Henry hopes
and hosts thoughts of other blooms

like his wife back in bed
eating bread and singing of other men.

Leo sent lines off to lift temperatures
naughty he is beyond his Molly-
all boiling with Brazen

The reader turns writer
and returns a pin with a promise to punish

But the dead soldiers will never rise
And dreamer sees only a bath of limp flowers.

What rose blooms without a thorn.

Purchasing lemon scented soap
he thinks of others while dreaming of bathing.

Letters float out from under bridges. Limp.

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All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly

GPO for Poetry Day Ireland

 

It’s Poetry Day Ireland so I am supporting from abroad. This year’s theme is Truth or Dare so throughout the day I will be posting a few of my older poems on Truth and a few more on being Irish…

General Post Office

1
Beneath the pillars
of your past,
I posted letters
between your walls
and wondered
if they rubbed up against
the souls of your saviours,
if they met with memories
that were made and measured,
bruised and battered
between your bricks and mortar
before being buried in blood.

2
How many letters of love
lined in lust and longing
have perfumed your pillars,
working their way
through your worthy walls
and haunted halls
in search of hungry hearts
to hold them, to open them,
to hear them.

   

All words and photographs of Dublin by Damien B. Donnelly

PAST POSTS

 

1

Beneath the pillars 
of your past, 
I posted letters 
between your walls 
and wondered 
if they rubbed up against 
the souls of your saviours,
if they met with memories 
that were made and measured 
bruised and battered
between your bricks and mortar
before being buried in blood

2

How many letters of love, 
lined in lust and longing, 
have perfumed your pillars
working their way 
through your worthy walls
and haunted halls 
in search of hungry hearts 
to hold them
to open them
to hear them

All words by Damien B. Donnelly