Coming in November…
Bookends
A month of goodbyes
Spending my final full month in Paris looking back in order to move on. Each day will be a new or revised poem and, of course, some photographs of this city that I’ve been connected to since I was 22 and will soon leave at 44.
Starts November 1st,
here on WordPress.
À bientôt
I have taken to the water,
am running toward reckless
and dissolving the wreckage.
I have taken to the water
even on this land
of cracks and grumbles
(slippery under snow
or shadowed by a sun
we can’t outrun)
I still hear the water
rushing amid all that is restless
(am still bound to rest less and less)
as this will whispers within
to ‘follow the water’
in place of drowning
in a desert of dry doubt.
I have taken to the water,
corners caught on a current
clear in it’s translucency
as if to reveal the truth
beyond the abstrusity
of the boulders once blocking me.
I have taken to the water,
to it’s meanders of movement
(I move toward what is meant)
I turn and twist
and forget tastes once treasured,
I am flying fluid
(a flood of fluidity)
I cannot hold everything
(catch the kiss before it capsizes)
there are no pockets
in paradise
(babies are born naked;
only man dresses the dead
as if to ignore the death).
I have taken to the water,
reckless is running
right on front of what is left
of all that’s looking for rest
(while I swim toward the rest of me).
I am a small storm
in the steady stream,
I am the stream
storming into sturdy.
I am change.
I am unstoppable.
The truth lies
not in the bank,
but lays in the trust I place
on this translucent trickle
tracing my paths
upon the water.
I have taken to the water,
ripples running through reflection,
cutting the connection
of what once was,
I am catching on current-
all else will drift to dissolve.
All words and photography by Damien B Donnelly
Audio version available on Soundcloud
https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/to-the-water
Silence surrounds
this sweet stillness,
icicles are falling;
tears streaming
new paths
down old windows
once home
to fading reflections
and the robin
and his red chested breast;
forever stained, forever beating,
flaps through the open field
in search of a hushed hope
in buds that will soon bloom,
in life that will soon turn
below the hardened earth
and muddied soil.
We have spilt blood,
been drunk on its bitterness
and still we parch for more.
Sweet is this silence;
these mornings breaking,
crisp and cold,
cutting through the layers
we are desperate to shed,
we too are seasonal;
we rise with a spring
and tumble through each fall,
we are hot headed
and cold hearted
when comfort constricts,
melting pain down windows
too frosty to show any solutions
until we are emptied
and in the silence,
in that slowly
sweetening stillness
we are renewed;
ready to cut new reflections
into the smooth surface
of that shatterable glass,
our faith fluttering
on wings of hope.
All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Audio version available on Soundcloud
If you
are forgiving
to my omission
of carving your name
eternal upon my flesh
then I will
be forgetful
to the distance
you divined to draw
your own deceits upon skin
that wasn’t mine
as I forget you completely.
All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Changing currents,
currently, body and soul
converging concurrently,
control lost to illusion;
divinity divining, dividing delusion
directing hands of fate
or falling me from faith,
body leaning in
bending to all beckoning.
Was it I who let go
of love’s hand or had fate decided so?
Was there a choice,
considered, consecrated, a confession
would I, could I be called up for blame?
In letting go,
I fell to freedom,
funny how freedom drops you,
seemingly untangled,
from the knot undone and I come undone,
at a loss, undefinable or redefined?
Partially salvageable, this time.
Selfishness slipping into single state
celibate, (sold a lot)
with no one to consider,
to hold, to cherish, to love.
What is love when you lay alone?
Where does love lay when you are alone?
Alone, love is where there are no more lies.
.
All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
On the doorstep
On the threshold
The corner turns itself on me and I stand ready
Waiting for the opening
Waiting for the light
Waiting for the release.
On the doorstep
At the line
The path diverges on front of me, asking me to choose
Waiting for the decision
Waiting for the answer
Waiting for the follow on.
On the doorstep
Of a new life
The past never more present and the future unfolding
Waiting to be revealed
Waiting to be taken
Waiting to be felt
I take a breath and…
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.
Sitting
Wrapped in blankets,
In search of comfort,
In a corner,
Away from the mirth
And the madness.
Sitting
Wrapped in thoughts,
Distance dividing sorrow,
Tears washing away
Your image.
Sitting
As the piano plays,
Tickling tunes
Taunt with tension,
Tinged with regret.
Sitting
Worrying about
The what has been,
While waiting
For the what will be.
Sitting
As light fades from
Another day,
Waiting
As another dawn
Draws near.
Poems, Poetry, Poets
Some lays of the Fianna, translated from the Irish by Annraoi de Paor with illustrations by Tim Halpin
Spoken Word - Poetry, Flash Fiction, Prose
The Things That Are In My Head.
Stay Bloody Poetic
Author of 'Unmuted', 'Saudade' and 'Psychopathogen'
home of the elusive trope
Sharing writing tips, information, and advice.
Words about pictures by Michael Scandling
Writing, Poetry & Creativity | Angela T Carr, Dublin, Ireland
Kay McKenzie Cooke Website & Blog
Happy Soul🌙☀
My journey through photography
landscape and change
My poetry is my religion.
Colouring Outside The Lines
Expressing moments of Inspiration within a cozy setting
"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Ps 147:3
Meanderings and Commentary
Art • Nature • Exploration
Poetry inspired by ethereal feelings, life events and personal philosophy.
A Journal of Brief Literature
Film, Music, and Television Critic
Writer
Art and Lifestyle by Brandon Knoll
New Zealand
French magazine - art & visual culture
A palette of general thoughts & travel stories from all around the world
Jack Bennett
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
a poetry blog & online home to the work of José Angel Araguz, Ph.D.
By Miri Elm
Damien B. Donnelly 