Deuxiemepeau, Poetry by Damien B. Donnelly
Between the lines and through the lens…
He was tame, if truth be told-a curtain twitching kind of fool-heartedguard dog making studies of how the othersmade their way through the humdrum.He was sturdy in routine, if not stature-nose in the paper after the Six O’clock newson the far edge of the sofa every night,inside-out sweaters on a Saturdayand passing round the basketin […]
I climb things, climbed things, out of warm womb,fresh from first hold into new armsalready breaking, wondering about climbing back up. I climb things, climbed things, chimneys in a child’s mindlooking for traces of reindeer and reasonsto still believe in faith and family and catching flight. I climb things, climbed things, out of closetsand their […]
Words and painting by Damien B. Donnelly
Clouds congregate under summer skies, standing towers, still, waiting for Napoleon’s rise. Up close, only echoes of history hit the hollowing rock below- coming in to slip out with more, in search of possession on another shore. There are footprints on the beach- horses hooves whose metal shoes now feel the rust of the […]
We strike matches along the shiny skins of polished apples, bite into the heat of burning coals that hold no seeds within their core, watch our reflections on the heavy skins of those ripening fruit as if it will show us a truer representation of who we might be because it too holds a […]
I took photos of us once, together, to remember all I had before I set off to find myself in other fields that other lands had whispered of other welcomes across other waves, moments to return to later as I navigated new roads, strange turns and gates I had to manage alone. Now, our […]
Knowledge is not an end in itself Some of the best books have made me yawn- After Nietzsche I needed a nap And Joyce makes me question often My ability to comprehend the written word. Perhaps that was always his aim. Knowledge is not an end in itself No jump is ever made after […]
Boys came calling after school, sometime between six and eight, before the summer- longer days under the swell of frustration. Boys came calling after school, halting homework and hunting, looking to come closer to a truth but I held mine firm, in the door- halfway, me half in, half confused as to what they […]