JONI MITCHELL – Deuxiemepeau Poetry by Damien B. Donnelly

THE GREYING MIST OF MEMORY

I’d never heard the call of the green though my eyes caress it in a certain light and so many walls I’ve covered with that same colour to curate a comfort from the cold. I’d never heard it, till now, till the windows stopped keeping out that chill. Blue, I never found blue cold, […]

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CALIFORNIAN SPARK

Here in parks in Paris, France, I potter through a past so old and cold that it cannot be parted, we cannot easily outrun our own ruins while Cali beckons me with her rock and roll band; those make-me-feel-good brothers and sisters since seduced back to their former States and somewhere, in between, the loneliness […]

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I CAME TO THE CITY, MY MUSE, MISS MITCHELL

My series of poems ‘I Came to the City” has been inspired by the music and artistry of Joni Mitchell, whose music I first head in a little back side, one floor up apartment in the Marais in Paris in 1998 played for me by my flatmate at the time Tambourine Therese and this music […]

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I CAME TO THE CITY, PART 19; CONFESSION

I have been courted by counts and clowns, too costly to count, to considered to be questioned, too comical to consider courtly while in cities crowded with crossing carriages and calm corners curated in comfort. I have been coloured in, cared for, cooped up, critiqued, cried out and carried on, careless at times, cautious at […]

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I CAME TO THE CITY, PART 18; TRAVELOGUE

I In the park bodies are bare and bending in sweaty forms, see the skin still salivating as if fresh from the frolics, when we were fondled and found, some born to be bound and then others; fickle fools thinking thrusts were as true as trust. But truth is told only in time; touch […]

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I CAME TO THE CITY, PART 17; THE OTHER SIDE

What is life but a book to read from both sides, from either end, from all there is to see here below the constant clouds of consideration and from far on high where the clouds are carpet and the stars are as close to perfection as we can get, for midway through this meander […]

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I CAME TO THE CITY, PART 16; LILTING LULLABY

I thought we were templates for tattoos to tell tales on, I never thought to the tire skids and teeth marks time’s tiger would temper on our skins. ‘Here kitty, kitty,’ we call and curiosity comes crawling out from under as cat with claws uncut. ‘Cute Kitty, come catch,’ we call through the forest foliage, […]