BOOKENDS; JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE ONCE SEEN AS A STAR DOES NOT MEAN YOU STILL ARE ONE

 

I will always recall you in reflection rather than reality,
a ripple on the water rather than the roughness on the rue.

I saw you in smooth sheets of stillness stretched over ponds
that should have shivered but you wouldn’t change
and I couldn’t stay who I was forever, not even for you.

You were comprised of stilled cycles so often celebrated
but I wanted to catch a ride on something not so set in stone.

Indoors, away from the stilled ponds projecting your pride
onto palaces, you hung mirrors to admire your own reflection

but I returned from the other side of desire’s distraction
to uncover the truth of who we were beyond admiration.

You cannot reflect the stars forever, especially
when the gutters have come so close to the glass.

   

All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly

This month is about looking back to see who I was before moving on to who I am becoming. An end, for now, to the Paris Cycle that started when I was 22 and will end at 44, though we had 18 years of separation in between.

REFLECTIONS ON OUR SHIPS

Drifting
a ship at sail
weighted to the wind’s whim
captive to the currents that may come
servant to the sway of the storms
fated to the fickle folly
that lies in wait
down
deep down
deep in the depths
below the ebb and flow
beneath the ripples and reflections


beneath the ripples and reflections
beyond the foggy mists
we send our ships
now drifting
cutting
through the current
the coast no longer his concern
the mountains will mourn him in his passing
the leaves will return to the branches
when spring falls and the fog lifts
and we wait in hope
for the return
of our ships

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph: Morning’s breath upon the water in Stockholm

CHEZ MOI

 

I release you
From the obsession,
From the overly long
Ogles of observation,
Trepidation
And a grass,
Seemingly green,
Long since remembered.

You are no longer
That deep desire
In the distant darkness,
Distracting me,
Daring me
To deploy,
To defect,
To retour.

That significant
Substance
Shimmering
In the shadows,
Swaying slowly,
Seducing me,
Enticing me.

I release you
From the waking dream
And the nocturnal rêver,
The phantom waiting
For the return
And the temptation
Teasing me
With time.
The illusions
That eluded me
In waking light,
The visions
Deceiving me
In the shade of night.

You are no longer
The haunting hunger,
The taste of what once was,
What still could be,
That insatiable need
Never fully quenched,
Never truly tested.

You are now no longer obsession,
You are now just a place called home.