Words and painting by Damien B. Donnelly
Tag: Journey
JOURNEYS, PART 18; THE BEAUTIFUL BRINY
The moon is a diamond dream, a sweet shadowof midnight, butterflies drunk on sleepinto which we seep like the blood red sunbeneath the blue blood sea and we are wavesin bottles bobbing along on the beautyand the briny, too intoxicated to thinkof our time being temporary, too insignificantto think of ourselves as anything otherthan spotlight […]
JOURNEYS, PART 7; METAMORPHOSIS
— How still it is, silent beneath the somber shade of night, beyond the light already departed. Alone in thoughts that twist and turn and dig deep amid the this and that, the important and the redundant, the stillness builds, oblivious to the restlessness beneath my skin, between my toes, a sense of something unseen, […]
JOURNEYS, PART 6; DAFFODIL DREAMS
I climb cloudsbetween the night’s blanketed sleep,a billowing blossom of smokethat never chokes the mountain moon,where the world is a warm walkthrough a blue breezeand the only plightis to find your pathwithin a forest of daffodilson a prairie of peace. On a prairie of peacewithin a forest of daffodils,beyond the billowing blossom of smokethat never […]
JOURNEYS, PART 3; THE CLIMB
For every cracked climb, unconsidered but compulsory, that catastrophic clamber over chaos and confusion, there also comes the slide into smoothness; that paved path, pure and polished, an offer of an anchor before the next convulsion of the course. All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly Photograph taken at the National Park of […]
JOURNEYS, PART 2; A FERRY FROM THE FUTURE
I took the ferry, once again, that morning, after a long repose, to the other side, the one formerly ‘his side’, the side I used, so often, to cross to, to eat, to sleep, to kiss, to share, the same ferry that took me from the real world to his world, which became my […]
JOURNEYS, PART 1: ON THE ROUTE OF THE ROAD
— The sun burns the shadows as fields fall into forgetful, speed is not my subject nor a confusion I can peacefully pedal. We are tethered to tracks; all these pick ups and their set downs that perish after purpose while we rattle toward the repercussions and rebounds. The sun burns the shadows, I am […]