NaPoWriMo – Deuxiemepeau Poetry by Damien B. Donnelly

COLOUR IS WAITING

And still we will come to lick the honey from the purple petal and still we will come to root out the weeds of worthlessness in gardens where others eat up all that is beautiful. Time turns and we, in turn, follow its path, suns set and the moon shows us its song, hold […]

by deuxiemepeau

AT THE SETTING OF THE YELLOW LIGHT

I held your hand in a taxi, once, while thinking of another as you whispered into my ear, a sound I no longer remember, a scent now a breath away from touchable. I cannot hold everything anymore, not everything nor everyone. I recall the yellow light yearning to hold its own innocence stretching through […]

by deuxiemepeau

GRAINS OF SAND BENEATH CERULEAN SKIES

Faith is fragile, courage is not always conclusive until called, we do not command the waves nor comprehend the clouds. I tell you this sand will be swept into the sea by night fall, this baying breath of cyan neath the stretch of those cerulean skies. This smooth, salt-licked land was forged from fire […]

by deuxiemepeau

RISING THROUGH THE RICKETY REDS

I laid on the floor and touched the marbled perfume of the ocean as it washed over me, waves of flying feathers, a fluid fire of salted foam. I kissed the poison of your lips, once, and did not die as you came over me, next to me, inside of me. Decay is not […]

by deuxiemepeau

OCHRE DANCING

Porcelain plant pot plots the delicious decay of decadence once eyed as ochre dancing next to dandelions in the dawn’s dew. Pretty painted picture of plants in a porcelain pot plays with the presence of past and present under the preservation of pressed paint. Gold garnered by the grace of the sun, amber’s earthiness […]

by deuxiemepeau

BLACK IS ONLY SHADOW

Winter has grey wings, feathers of sodden soot that come from concrete clouds too dense to discern any light beyond. Winter spawns grey wings but spring is an architect of possibility by a canal of colour that sweeps in after the fright of the frost and baths us in a blithe breath that blows […]

by deuxiemepeau

CATCH THE COLOUR

Sun sets and then rises and in between we kiss, catch the kisses that come upon the current, catch the kiss, the continent is not always ours to conquer. Tides come and tides retreat, touch is temporary, flesh is polished pink below the sensuous sky but falls from fold like sands in the glass […]