CLASSIFIED UNDER NO NAME

Would I have kept you closer, longer, if you’d been a soft toy
that found my empty arms when the nights were endless instead
of your characteristically classy chaos the posters never chose
to optimize

or were we meant to be just chalk running into the deluge
of the rainstorm?

Should I have been less passionate and you more personable
or I more placid and you less proud?

We were stuffing, in the end, plucking feathers from our insides
out through skins that had neither thickened nor tendered enough
to survive those endless flooding nights together in that hold
we never named.

Un nom, c’est quoi, un nom- la tien, la mien, le nôtre ?

Un non est seulement une chose que tu donnes à quelque chose
quand tu le comprends.

   

All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly

BOOKENDS, STARTS TODAY AT 5PM GMT

 

Coming today and everyday at 5pm
for the next 30 days…

BOOKENDS

A GOODYBE TO PARIS

before returning to Ireland after 23 years away

A month of moments and memories, passion and partings

poetry and photography
WordlessWednesdays and StreetScenesonSaturdays

 

By Damien B. Donnelly

SEASONAL CYCLES

Winter’s withering winds

rustle through berry’s blossom

in the gentle dawn, falling

on these days of the daffodil.

I walk by wild water

in a world wild of will.

Bloom beneath spring

summer; a blanket beautiful,

seasons are cycles,

sweet that song from seed to stone.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly influenced by the lunchtime magnetic poetry oracle

MOTHERS CHILD

We are carved and we are cared for,
Cuddled and coddled all our lives,
But we are, will always remain
A mother’s creation, the love
And labour of the hands
That first held us.

I see you
In me, in the minutes so simple,
In the moments so precious,
Sometimes so predictable,
Other times obscure.

I see you
In me, all your lessons listened to,
Learnt from, lived out, a part
Of me now, a part
Of who I am.

I see you
In me, in my ever evolving hands,
Fumbling along their lines of life
But I see your caress steering,
Guiding me on as I
Clutch, climb,
Create.

I see myself
In you, in your eyes, reflecting all
My passion and your pride
Of this gift you gave me,
This life, its laughter
And its love.

I see you,
Ignoring the separating distances,
The forceful waters that flood
Their way around us
But have failed so
In their attempt
To divide us.

I see you
Today, in that jumble of geography,
Challenging the mountains high
And the tides returning,
Unbreakable.

I see you
The light and magic, the mother
Miraculous, a million others
All waiting, wanting, trying,
A million babies, needing,
And still we found
Each other.

I see you
Right before me, yesterday, today
Carefully tidying up memories,
Gently tossing away tears,
Happy in what we had,
Forever soothing
My fears.

I see you,
Smiling. I see you, living, learning.
I see you in heels and happiness,
I have watched you forgiving
And forgetting. I see you
Laughing and loving.
I see you.

I see you
And through you I can see myself
And smile at all we’ve created,
Laugh at the joy we shared,
Wait with the breath held
For all that’s still
Yet to come.

I see you
Now, see the twinkle in your eyes
And I smile at the strength
You taught me.

I see you,
Like this,
Always.

IMG_4487

TEMPTATION

Tongue tickling
With the thought
Of trilling you,
Teasing you,
Tempting you

Down and deep
And dirty…

Fingers fidgeting
With a feeling
To frisk you
And find fun
And frolics

Flirt with flesh
and fondle…

Submitting
To a supple session
Of scandal,
Seeking the sinner
To satisfy the senses

Sweaty and sweet
And sexy…

Panting
In part
At the possibility
Of puckering pleasure
Upon the pivotal points

To please, play
And prevoke…

Longing to lock
Lips on lips
And let lust linger
Long enough
To leave us

Light and lived
And longing

For more…

IMG_3368

MY MUSE

Dance with me for a while you asked
And how could I refuse?
The belle of the ball at a soiree of cities
You are lady and goddess, the muse.

Deep in your heart I walked through you
To see you for what you are,
The product of passion and maker of magic
Like the light from a glorious star.

Home in your arms I was in you
And welcomed in from the cold,
You shone out your soul as you filled me with music
While your palaces shimmered with gold.

Comme La Petit Prince I came to you
Questioning life and romance,
Well I learned how to live ‘neath your city of light
And found real love in a solo dance.

In Père Lachaise I wept for you,
For the heroes you have lost,
The sparrow of Piaf, the spirit of Bernhardt
Seurat and Balzac and Proust.

Canvas of white, a child again
At play in the fields of you,
You opened the doors to your present and past
From the Palais Royal to the Pompidou.

You kept a watch both night and day
Lit a light for me to glide
From your cafes of jazz to your muscles of men
I inhaled every smoky dark side.

By Sacré-Cœur I looked on you
Till my eyes were pools of tears,
From La Tour Eiffel to your grand Musée du Louvre
I’d surrendered in you all my fears.

IMG_1088

Paris- Within Me

What is it about you that daily replaces you In front of my eyes

No matter how far from you I travel?

Were you the first one I saw from above

With your grey slates,

Smokeless chimneys

And laddering towers to the Gods?

Specs of gallant green

Among your columns and follies,

Your marching boulevards

Like lines of proud soldiers-

Brandishing the Tri-Color

For fear the memory of Marie Antoinette

May fall forsaken.

The whitened Sacred Heart

Upon your butted highest spot-

Where Saint Denis fell to martyrdom

Long before the painters-

Doused in Absinthe-

Captured the high-kicking,

Rouged-up damsels

Amid the Moulin’s endlessly turning sails.

Your very own Taj Mahal-

Not so in keeping

With your concrete corinthian cornices

And grotesquely glaring gargoyles

And yet so missed when no longer in view.

And there,

Standing as proud as your citizens,

By the far reaches

Of your once bohemian Left banks,

Where cheers of toasts were often heard

Amid the enlightened quarrels of Sartre,

In praise for the flat-shoed Stein

And sorrow for the almost exiled Wilde,

Lies your most celebrated folly of all;

Your monstrous clunk of iron-

Within who’s restaurant Maupassant

Would willingly dine to be excused

From the very view in which he sat,

Which melted itself into the heart of me.

More than a dozen times

Have I scaled your heights

To always draw a fresh breath of awe

Upon the sight from your summit,

Like the minute memory of the goldfish;

Immeasurably forgetful

But struck again and again

By the beauty of its surroundings

As if witnessed for the first time.

Your streets planned out before me

With cars racing onwards,

Inwards and through-

So much like the blood

Pumping through the entangled archeries

Of my beating heart.

I am a million miles from you again,

On top of the world of another city

And yet you are next to me

Wherever I stand,

In front of me

No matter what I see

And beating

Still so fresh and fervently

Deep down

Within me.

photo-80

The Blissful Wake

Before my eyes open,

My body senses you and slowly

Accepts the breaking light

In the shelter of your arms,

Beneath the scent of our lust

Still lingering in the room

From the night before,

I begin to stir

And your body wakens to mine-

Aroused as our legs find ways

To entangle and entwine

Like branches bending together,

Toes running along calf,

Tickling down tiny hairs-

Touching, tempting and teasing.

My eyes open to find you

Next to me,

To let my lips find yours

And allow you be my first sensation,

The first taste of the day,

The first yearning-

Opened and explored.

This is how the light finds me, now,

Today, tomorrow, for evermore,

This is what it’s now like

To lay in the light

Instead of solitary in the shadows,

This is how it is-

Nestled deep within you,

Cosy all around you,

At a loss as to whose hand is whose,

Whose kiss came first,

This is the all clear

Present and future,

This is how the days

Will furthermore begin-

This is the reoccurring dawn

I have dreamed of in sleep-

This is what we make

Of the blissful wake.

photo-76