Journey – Deuxiemepeau Poetry by Damien B. Donnelly

BOWING TO THE BEARERS OF LIGHT IN THE SHADE

We break from the path to follow the light, light that has no alignment to direction, to road or wood, less wandered or not, light that touches trees that have known more darkness than I will ever close my eyes to see and still they stand to catch the light, looking like leopards now […]

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SUNSHINE AND SNOWFLAKES

I climbed you today in downpours and falling snows, no snowflake ever the same, no footstep ever similar, I climbed you today in sunlight and stealing shadows, in strokes of paint splattered in your memory by artists as foreign as they are familiar, I paused upon your steps, your streets of steps, the steep […]

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DIAMONDS IN THE SKY

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, […]

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ANOTHER EXODUS

I am 44 today. I found this poem I wrote when I was about 17… Another Exodus 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 […]

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BACK TO THE BANKS OF THE GRAND

Water catches light Like I once reached out To catch a wave Along this same stretch of water, This same cosy current of canal That has slowed, now, Like my footsteps, Like my stokes; Coming back on the bend, Finding favour In the freshness Of all that was once familiar, Letting go of the […]

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TAXI DRIVER, I CAME TO THE CITY

A constant darkness, the future unfolds like the road; route unknown, the past ever present but kissed goodbye; my lips still taste of yesterday, my hips the heat of your caress that has since slipped from these sheets. I was always bound to restless, to rest less and less, I am creature creative; a […]

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A FISH CAUGHT ON THE CURVE OF THE MOON

Love is a red Russian rose on the run, a bouquet to brush the blues from their burdens. Hope is his hand on her head in the night, taking flight as that blue bird darkens. But her moon was in Pisces and she was said to be expunged by her sensitive soul but in […]