AGE IS JUST A NUMBER TO COME BACK TO

  At 9 I wanted to be 19, at 19 I had no idea the walls I would climb to reach 29, at 29 I had no idea of the roads that would lead me to 39, at 43 I’m happy to still know the way home.   All words by Damien B. Donnelly. Picture […]

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THE SCENTED ROAD

The 30th poem on the 30th day of April for National Poetry Writing Month   And on runs the road, rushing in rings around us, faster than feet can find footing,  brisker than bodies can breath,  holds lost in the hustle and hurry, securities slipping by the sidelines, hearts hurtling off into hills  parted and […]

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FINE LINES

  There is a man, in the rain, in a hat, getting wet, growing mad, calling connards to the penguins of Parisian pedestrians plodding past him. There is a man, with cigars and a beer, by a bin, full of madness, next to tourists lost in maps as the rain pours down on the wrong choice of […]

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