Identity

DIAMONDS OF THE SKY

/ deuxiemepeau / 4 Comments

 

We are all stars
we twist and turn and twinkle
we are the bright burning light
we blaze like the stars
twinkle, twinkle
we burn
we are burning
Like the stars
burnt out
tick tock
hurtling across the sky
hurting beneath the sky
where we cry
we are all stars
fast paced
fast moving
we are scuttling
scooting
shooting stars
shooting each other
bullets and diamonds
the diamonds in the sky
the diamond of my eye
the reflection
the defection
the glare
the stare
the star
twinkle tick twinkle tock
we are all stars
we are here now
tick
but long gone
tomorrow
tock
light years lost
in seconds
we are blazing brilliant
bright
on borrowed time
we are nothing
nanoseconds
we are empty
we have burnt it all
already
we are burning out
now
before we’ve begun
but our souls
they shine eternal

All words and graphics by Damien B. Donnelly 

FINE LINES

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There is a man, in the rain, in a hat,
getting wet, growing mad,
calling connards to the penguins
of Parisian pedestrians plodding past him.

There is a man, with cigars and a beer,
by a bin, full of madness, next to tourists
lost in maps as the rain pours down
on the wrong choice of shoes.

There is madness descending
on cursing cars and pelting rain,
on pedestrians pushing and babies crying,
on tourists tutting by one man who laughs
at them all, at it all, at nothing around him
and the chaos inside him.

There is rain on the man
on the side of the street
with a certain kind of scent,
who stores papers on his pockets,
the written worries of the world,
a madness that his mind cannot fathom.

There is a madness manifesting
in multiple ways in man and his muddles
next to puddles in the rain, by a bin,
on a street, at a pedestrian crossing
Where tourists are waiting their turn.

There is a fine line that divides
all the roads we can cross
and the madness
we cannot seem to conquer.

 

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

THE RISE AND FALL OF HE

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He is forward flying,
A novice to noise
And nuances
Of staggering streets
Unknown and numerous,
Honed to the humming
From the surge and speed
Of manoeuvres he can
Meddle through
Mingle through
Move through

He is a nubile note,
A minor chord
In a major movement,
Braced for a rebirth
By foreign fingers
Forging him finally
Into a signature
Of sonic structure,
A rhythm and rhyme,
A tune to tingle
And temper him
And a chorus to call
And encourage him

He is a leaning leaf
Balanced on the brow
Of a branch, braced
For worthy winds
Of foreign fields
To find him, float him,
Carry him to clouds
And dive down deep
Forever after
Into the chaos
And cacophony
Of life and it’s longing
And the lust among the living

He is made of math,
The sum of every smile,
The addition and attrition
Of a world of worries,
The multiplication
Of a multitude of thoughts
Mixed and mumbled
And the subtraction
Of scars and fears,
He is the solution in full
The joy and the tears

He is the beating body
Of festering flesh,
Tasting and tasted,
Touched and taken,
He is the brittle bone
Stretched over skin
And the shroud of skin
Bound to the bone,
He is whole,
Wholesome,
And hungry,
Growing, groaning, gaining,
Rotting, renewing reigning

He is the devil
In the darkness,
He is luminous
In the light,
He is the form
Finding features
In the forces
In between
The growing greys
And the shifting shades,
He is the something still unshaped,
He is the someone still unseen

He is forged of fire,
Flames flickering
In front of him
Fierce and unfailing
As the particled past
Blazes behind him
The life already lived
Echoing all that will finally fall
A hundred years from now
A forgetful fading
Of all he wanted to become
And all he managed to be,
Everything remembered
At once as the light descends
On the rise and fall of he.

IMG_0466

All words and pictures by Damien B. Donnelly

UNPACKED

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I have emptied
All the boxes,
A lifetime
Of belongings,
A collection
Of customs,
Compromises,
Compulsions,
Convictions
Combined together
To become a whole,
A who,
A human,

I have emptied
All the boxes,
Found other shelves
To place the memories,
Other drawers
To store the scenes,
Other cupboards
To carry the clutter,
Other colours
To paint the walls
With shades
Of what is yet
To come.

I have emptied
All the boxes,
I am moved,
I have moved,
I will move again
When the moment
Meanders
Into the next
And the next
And the next

But for now
I am here,
I have emptied
All the boxes,
All of my belongings
And belong…

 

All Words and Photos by Damien B. Donnelly

CANE DAYS

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Fuck forty approaching,
And fuck metal mats,
Fuck fractured feet
Turning black like rats,

Fuck wandering round
With a walking stick
Exposing the frailties
Of this silly old dick,

I’ll forget the bruises
And broken bones,
Bollocks to bandages
And swollen toes,

I’ll not sit back
And fizzle away,
So watch out world
I’m on my way,

I’ll be the madman limping
And falling down
Cursing his clumsiness
Like a circus clown,

It would’ve been clever
To sit and stop working,
Ignore the garden
And the leaves collecting,

But no, he says,
It’ll be done in a jiffy
Till the mat fell down
And I fucked like a hussy,

I wanted to show them
I’d tidied the place,
I wanted to swim
In their gratitude and grace,

Well, next time I’ll know
To just let the leaves blow
Maybe better a mess
Than a broken toe!

Well it serves me right
For wanted to be noticed
Cause they’ll see me now
All battered and hopeless,

But I’m slowly getting fond
Of this walking cane,
So perhaps I’ll grow
A bearded grey mane,

And sway through the streets
In the wind and the rain
Saying fuck, instead,
To the prodding, prickling pain!

So bring on Forty,
Bring on your force,
I’m saddled and ready
I’m a stubborn, striding horse!

 

BOX OF DREAMS

/ deuxiemepeau / 3 Comments

 

I am a box
Filled to capacity,
A million personalities
Drawn and decorated,
Cut out creations,
Caricatures casting me
In a more tangible light
Throughout the years.

I am a box
Sealed with sentiment,
Souvenirs of scenes,
Themes and thoughts
Cradled and cared for,
Partied and played out,
Sometimes reused,
More times reinvented.

I am a box
Cluttered and cramped,
Jokes joining heartache,
Love letters lost
Amid numbers of homes
Now forgotten and faces
In photos slowly fading
Through time.

I am a box,
Four sturdy walls,
A floor and a roof,
Ordinary to all who see me
But inside there’s this life
Now busting at the seams
But with plenty of places
To fill with more dreams.

 

THE ALPHABET OF WALKING AWAY

/ deuxiemepeau / 2 Comments

 

 

 

I walk away abolishing all affinities
I walk away believing it to be better
I walk away casting off all comforts
I walk away desirous for the distraction
I walk away ego eager for extra
I walk away from all the familiar
I walk away to gather goodness
I walk away healing hurt and holding hope
I walk away into the inevitable
I walk away to elongate the experience
I walk away before kindness kills
I walk away letting longing loose
I walk away to make all moments matter
I walk away never knowing what’s next
I walk away opening up to opportunity
I walk away putting out the pretences
I walk away quietly questioning cause
I walk away to reconstruct and ripen
I walk away to seek something sustainable
I walk away to tempt a transfiguration
I walk away to unwind, unroll and unravel
I walk away to vanish from your voodoo
I walk away to be a witness of the world
I walk away to add the x into extraordinary
I walk away from all that yesterday yearned
I walk away to ardently and zealously zing

 

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

 

 

ANOTHER EXODUS

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Being born,
We die from the life before we lived,
That existence within our maker,
But time transcends
And towards the light we fall,
Swept along with an ignorance of the future
And a tire of the past,
The Exodus arrives
And the tunnel ends

Hands engulf,
Drawing us into a plebeian existence
Where breeds an ignorance of the past,
A fancy for the future
And an enduring of the present,
But crawling
Our only path is towards another death,
Another existence,
Another light in a radiant tunnel;
Another Exodus

INNER VISIONS; THE JOURNEY OF PRIDE AND GLORY

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Alone now, walking away
Knowing it to be forever,
Alone and crying now
But shedding
Not only tears of pain
For in crying I am cleansing,
Rejoicing now, feeling strength
That had too long slumbered,
Alone now, but cherishing,
Holding all that is mine.

Alone now, slowly returning
To my natural state,
My own body embracing,
Like the wind, nurturing,
Nourishing myself,
Living alone now, returning,
Slowly all natural states eclipse,
For in returning I am moved,
Almost elevated, parallel
To all I’m destined to become.

Still waters rested, resisted
Temptations to swim
From stream to river
And ocean but, alone now,
Moved on while returning
Through newfound power
I de-slumber the stream,
Angelic visions send ripples
Through the river, mapping
Out my path to the ocean.

From here, I shall be
Deepened, with my freedom,
I shall be welcomed,
In my awareness, I shall be
Gifted, granted innocence,
Awaken now, oh inner child,
Let inner eyes pour grace
And vision, awaken my soul
And evoke my spirit,
Alone, I shall dance
To the music of your words,
Floating, I shall embrace
The reformation of myself,
Alone now, I sing to our glory
Do listen to my words
For this, alone, is my pride, my story.

Pride and Prejudice, Beating the Bullies

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A word to the ghosts of schoolyard bullies- Pity be the Preposterous, for profanity perishes before it prevails.

deuxiemepeau's avatarDamien B. Donnelly

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…

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