ATOMS

 

You there, yes, you,
checking out your hairdo
with your books begging to the opened
or your totes from Thomas’
cutting across this triskeled campus,
teacher or seeker or refugee looking for a rest
along the rocky road of resistance,
stand still for a moment and see beyond yourself,
your day, your demands, beyond all these fleeting reflections,
stand here, in the stillness of our spinning space
and see Einstein’s apple orbiting all that has now become known as Nobel,
in the almost saturated silence listen out to the whispers
that first became wit and then became wonder,
that gave Walton reasons to ponder.
See multiples of yourselves
in these spheres as singular blocks
building on our ability to be better beings,
to give more meaning to all this matter, here,
in these courtyards of conversations
housing halls now held in high esteem.
Can you see, within these curves of light leaning,
along these lines of longitude cutting through latitudes,
the circles through which we navigate,
the atoms, the Adams, the objects,
the Eves, the masses pushing outwards,
the energy pressing inwards, the people passing on.
Stop, for a moment and release all that you were
and make a place for all that you will become.

The atoms came first and then we bit into the apple.
I wonder if it made us any brighter, lighter?
When you look into these globes, do you see a reflection
of all our energy or is it a projection of what is still to come?

All words by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken from the internet of Apples and Atoms, a sculpture by Eilís O’Connell at Trinity College, Dublincommemorating Ernest T S Walton (1903-95), physicist and Nobel laureate and the first person in history to artificially split the atom.

BORDERS AND BOUNDARIES, NO.30, NAPOWRIMO

 

We are born

through barriers that break,

water carriers through canals 

into comfort and concerns 

were borders are built

to nurture nature

while we are compartmentalised,

still, more silent, less severe;

fortunate, less so, white, less so,

gay, straight, one gender, 

less gender, clever, less so, 

a part of peace 

or placed into parts 

where peace falls apart.

We cross borders 

not all, not everyone, 

not the fortunate, not those

who can do so comfortably 

but the others, the less so,

running from rage, rape, ruin, less,

running to refuge, reprieve, relief, more. 

We build barriers to keep us safe,

to keep the flowers in focus

and not the fragility 

beneath their bloom.

We build barriers, bigger, higher,

sharper, not to shelter but to shield 

all we don’t understand, all we fear

until we are left inside with fear itself.

We are born

through broken barriers 

but fall too quickly to forgetful.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

BORDERS AND BOUNDARIES, NO.29, NAPOWRIMO

 

I have parts of me 

twisted like rotten roots 

in drying soil

and parts of me 

supple as feverish fruit,

thirsty for attention.

I am both 

crumbling skin

trying to flee this figure

and sides so smooth

that they offer little hold.

I have broken borders

to be free

and built boundaries 

to hide parts of me

I don’t yet comprehend.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

BORDERS AND BOUNDARIES, NO.28, NAPOWRIMO

 

Walls cannot keep us from war,

defences are not always the deterrent,

destiny is not capable 

of being confined in a cage.

I captured a corner of comfort 

but it grew cold, 

capturer and captive, 

alone is not alive,

solitude is not always 

the solution

when looking for solace.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

BORDERS AND BOUNDARIES, NO.20, NAPOWRIMO

 

Beat

beat on

beat back.

Break 

break in

break out.

Hold 

hold on

hold out

for happy

for hopeful 

for a harbour.

We can be drums

beating out every breath

breaking down every boundary 

having a hold on the harbour 

while the current 

caresses us with connection 

that is ours for the catch.

We can be beaten

or beat upon the drum.

We can be broken 

or break free.

We can be held captive

or hold out

for something greater.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

BORDERS AND BOUNDARIES, NO.17, NAPOWRIMO

 

You played your card

despite your hand,

held your tongue

to spite your subjects,

you thought I’d miss

your words 

but sentences 

were never your strength.

You were a book 

too blank to be breached,

an unexplored emptiness

forgotten before it found 

any fondness for form. 

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

BORDERS AND BOUNDARIES, NO. 14, NAPOWRIMO

 

I hear you crying

from the runway,

as you tried to run away,

I was already off 

a fold on the wings of flying

while you sat there, waiting

and crying,

wishing colour was

no more than a past 

you could turn from.

I hear you crying 

above these clouds 

I am trying to reach 

the other side of,

moving west from east

as you fall south of north,

shivering in a skin 

you cannot slip from,

in a city with a grip 

to quickly crippling,

but geography is not 

morphology, we are bound

to the bones we are born of,

we cannot kill our kin 

to be kinder or simply 

slip from our skin to be whiter.

I hear you crying 

but I was already off

flying, we are the creators 

of our own clouds 

and can only conquer them 

with a calm courage and not 

just a quick comfort

that comes a calling 

in the cold corner

of our own confusion.

I heard you crying 

and wonder 

if I will remember you 

when you have taken to flying?

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

BORDERS AND BOUNDARIES, NO. 8, NAPOWRIMO

 

In sweeping rain 

he was swept through streets 

in a taxi turning with thoughts

he had not yet learned to express. 

Windows can shield 

from more than just the weather.

In unswept rain

he was sweeping through streets

that had not yet soaked him,

had not yet drained him

on the storms that were settling

under the shade of summer.

He was a spring in the bloom 

in the shadow of a back seat,

speeding through streets

already stained with too many winters.

All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly