COLOURS IN THOUGHT

 

Colours flap in the wind, colours catch
the feeling of freedom at daybreak
like thoughts taking flight in dreams
under blankets, mounding over molecules,
making matter meaningful. Dawn’s dew
delights in seeds now stirring under soil
just as stars shine significance on a mind,
on a pillow, at play. There is movement
beyond the trees and the run of the riverbed
if you can catch it. There is movement
in the dreamer beneath the blankets
and the shuttered eyes if you can wake it
to the colour, to the moment of possibility
in flight…

like colour on concrete,
like a bare bench in the waiting park,
like trees attending to shooting buds,
like a river of thought that cannot be abated.

   

All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly

This is a repost for a week of colourful imagination. Photo from Ile Saint Germain, Paris.

LINGER LIGHT, LONGER

Screen Shot 2016-02-27 at 12.28.15

Linger 
longer 
in this light,
this fragile luminosity, 
let me be your curiosity, 
shun the shadows for sadder days
for more somber sighs when it’s again the time to cry

but for now

linger
longer 
in this light, 
in this simplicity,
this momentary tranquility, 
entreat me your tenderness, 
your warm caress against my being, my body

linger
longer 
on the faces,
the passing faces,
the faces of people pacified,
of people satisfied in this light,
in this sun where shadows sat before
where shadows will rise again in minutes, in seconds

but for now,

it’s just light
not just light, LIGHT
radiant LIGHT casting reflections 
on what has been and what can be
on what is probable and all that is possible. 

Linger
longer LIGHT
Oh lovely LIGHT.

 

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photographs taken on Ile de la Grande Jatte, Paris.

A New Year

A new year,

A new day-

Sky’s still grey.

A new year,

A new day,

Still raining-

Weather’s still the same,

No change there,

People still on the streets

With their brollies-

Shopping,

Plodding through puddles

And slipping in the sales-

Buying what they don’t want

In wet shoes and stockings,

And cursing what they do need-

Those festive tummies

All bigger from stout,

But its cheaper today

Than yesterday

And it makes the sky

Feel far less grey.

The fairy lights have faded

And snowy white dreams

All stored away for another year

As diets replace deserts

And multi-shakes

Become the new mulled wine.

A new year,

A new day,

But it’s still Monday

And tomorrow’s still Tuesday

And the weekend

Will follow on from the week,

Still grey, you know,

Still rain,

Still getting wet-

Still sweaty under sweaters

And scarves

And undercoats and topcoats.

A new year,

A new day,

Sky’s still grey

But under rock and stone

I can see color

Where there was none before,

Not lots of color-

Not the full spectrum on the ground

But beginnings,

Hints, possibilities-

Like those resolutions of New Year

So full of promise

In those first new days,

There is hope

Beneath all that rock and stone

And above all those clouds of grey

That will, I’ve been told, soon blow away.

A new year

A new day to live…

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