through time,
through time
that can never be tempered,
through twisting trees and projected paths,
projecting thoughts yet to be pondered,
through mornings unfolding
while seasons fall to winter
and wither for a while all around me,
crisp carpets crinkle
with what was once light and leafy
but are now scattered sprinkles
of seasons shadows,
like thoughts once tasted
now toppled from the tongue
slipping underfoot;
from roots they rise only to return
as I break the silence
of early morning,
air crisp and clear,
cutting through motions of stillness
colours caught on careful carpets,
rust reigns regal
as orange opens into opulence,
opens into fragrance,
revels in its own resilience,
between the trunks,
below the benches
that have seen more time than I can wait for, than I can capture;
captured kisses,
paused breaths,
hands held,
all now scenes and scents seeping into the seated silence.
Running through forests,
all falling into that perfect promise
of pause and poise
all still while the earth turns, beauty below our feet

while we rage above it.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available at Soundcloud:


Today felt like the last blush of summer sunshine on the city that always shimmers, both in shadow and shade. These are some photo highlights I took this morning on my morning potter through the 5th arrondissement; heralded by Hemingway, the sunflower filled Jardin des Plantes and the touch of autumn rainfall on my shoulder along the Seine wth the rose windowed eyes of Notre Dame upon us all…

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly



The states have shifted
subtle shifts         sudden shifts
not so subtle warnings,
the ground is unsteady
tiny trembles           threatening trembles
not so steady warnings,
the flowers are blooming
out of season                                         every season
not so seasonal seasons,
the rain is falling
summers drowning                                    winters drying
no predicting the seasons,
the ice is melting
seas are rising                                                    lands are sinking
these were not just warnings.

The states have shifted,

we took the Earth

and now the Earth is taking back.


All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photographs taken at the IceWatch installation for COP2 in Paris, France.

Translucent Changes

Screen Shot 2015-12-03 at 18.47.18

I am surrounded by change, 

greens going brown, 

burning into translucency,

visible into invisible 

as leaves leave branches

to flitter and float in the air

turning, twisting, 

changing, change, 

change they say, 

change they whisper,

transform, turn too, in turn, turn out,

I was stuck once, in a position, 

positioned between the seams, 

sewn into lines, too structured, too static, 

derailed by demands, dictating designers,

but I have turned too, already, 

I have transformed, turned into transparency. 

I live now in lines, between the pages, 

I appear and disappear at will, at want, 

I am me at times, 

characters at others,

careful, cautious, curious, questioning. 

I am skin and bone, 

I am ageing, like the leaves, 

older, greyer, lighter, 

wilting with the weather, 

but I am sturdy too, 

stronger in other places, 

wizened but wiser.

I am caught in the same current

as the autumn air that lingers, 

lightens and lifts

and carries life onto the next adventure…

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly


I shift like nature, calling snows
To coat me, cover me in a crisp
Canvas of change to bathe in,
To be reborn in, before I skate away
From winds that wither my world.
Bone chilled, I can wander off
To warmer shores, eager for sun
To sooth me, to sink within me
In the form of friend, in the hope
Of something more significant,
Safely steering past the storms
Sent solely to scare, to remind me
Of nature and it’s naughtiness,
Prickling and pruning me, nipping
Away at my every blossom, often
Plucking me at every possibility.
I can be a season of hurricanes,
All harshened and hardened
By human history. I too can tear
Through territories and leave
My markings. I can command a sea
Of storms, all of my own making,
And rise a wave to part the oceans,
To aid me in my crossing to a new
Wide world of my own creation.


In the summers heat
The raindrops fall
As the dust of August
Runs down the wall.
Inside the house
Lie endless cries,
Broken hearts
And comfortless toys.
A child on the outside
But silent within,
No one to play with,
No reason to grin.

Sadness falls
Like rain in winter,
Leaves in autumn
And the all too little
The hope of spring.

All she wants
Is to wish on the stars,
To fly with Venus
And twinkle at Mars,
To spread her wings
And take to the skies
To stay above clouds
Where the rain never cries.