shadow

A SOUL IN THE SHADOW

/ deuxiemepeau / 2 Comments

 

She was not made
for sunlight
and silly,
she was not designed
for display
and distraction.
She loves moonlight
where her tears
find comfort in the stars
and her shadow
is more shelter
than cell.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Based in a Twitter poetry prompt from #WrittenRiver

IN THE SHADOW OF THE SUN

/ deuxiemepeau / 11 Comments

Day 8: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

 

Sun shines in the valley
where the sun king came to stay,
shade is shy in the valley
at the king and queen’s hideaway.

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Shadows slip through the valley
down from stars to under stairs,
some secrets slip through the valley
whispered from lips of concrete heirs.

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Sun shines in the valley
on swans now savage at swim,
the sun shines in the valley
though the peasants weren’t allowed in.

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Shadows sneak through the valley
through the greed gathered within,
shadow is splitting the valley
like guillotines cutting through skin.

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Sun shines in the valley
as gold from the fountains flow,
the sun shines in the valley
where follies fade and legends grow.

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Shadows sleep in the valley
along paths where tourists thread,
shadows are stuck in the valley
like dust on ideals long dead.

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Sun shines in the valley
as Apollo rides the waves,
the sun shines in the valley
and drowns the suggestion of slaves.

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Shadows stretch through the valley
pressed into promises made,
shadow is song in the valley
on benches where kisses once laid.

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Sun shines in the valley
in the sun king’s palace of pride,
the sun shines in the valley
where they often just came to hide.

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All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photographs taken on Sunday 2nd April at Chateau de Versailles, Paris, in the sun.

THE LIGHT THAT SHIFTS THE SHADOW

/ deuxiemepeau / 9 Comments

Day 6: National Poetry Writing Month #NaPoWriMo

Trains used to slip
through these tracks
where runners now train,
old locomotives now relocated
like the light that displaces
the shadow,
but the lines
still linger,
less steam now,
more sweat
and sometimes
that light
that shifts
the shadow,
trains used to slip
through these tracks
that the city now tickles,
threatens with timeshares
to tear up what time still shares
in the corners where that shadow
leans into the light, on the lines where life
once rattled and raced,
before the new towers
knocked the old homes,
before the runners
and the walkways
and the boarders
and the builders
and the cranes
now shifting
into sight,
rising, in the distance,
just a step
beyond
that
light.

All Words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken at la Petite Ceinture, an old paris railway line in the 15eme

SING NOT OF SATISFACTION

/ deuxiemepeau / 1 Comment

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I’ve looked for you
in corners of the past
no longer concerned
with connections
to considerations
I once cradled
(we never cradled)
but since carefully
filed and folded
(like pictures pressed
into pages of albums
never opened)
into a folder
of foolishness
fantasised
on foreign fields,
though never fertile,
though never suitable
for the fondness
we felt but never held,
a fleeting flirtation
we never saw
to fruition,
no admission,
no submission
to mounting
attraction,
seduction
(sing not of satisfaction!)

I’ve seen you
still surviving
in the shadow
of sleep’s delusions;
delirious distractions,
abstractions
of colour and light
of ‘could have beens’
that blanket me
in mistruths,
piling passion
into pillows
never pressed
with your lips
or my caress
to your comfort,
sojourns of sleep
that soothe not
the waking visions
violated by your
polar position,
leaving me
breathless
in the restless
dark naked night,
far too far
from your face,
your flesh,
your form.

Album
barely filled,
rarely opened,
never disregarded.

All Words and Sketches by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on SoundCloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/sing-not-of-satisfaction

 

 

COME HAS THE SHADOW

/ deuxiemepeau / 1 Comment

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And the black crow comes calling…

and summer is falling,
has burnt in blushing breaths before us,
before worshiped walls and rushing rivers,
as if it’s taken to tombs or swept below waters
raging in the ruins, sunken into shade,
shadows slip winter’s wings over sunshine,
colour hiding, as if hibernating,
climbing tall towers till showers pass.

Light is waning as if washed away
from where we bathed yesterday,
like dreams that dissolve at daybreak,
as if the world isn’t capable,
as if hope isn’t sustainable;

sweep in, stir up, swoop out, leaving us wishing, waiting, wanting.

And the black crow spreads its wings
as autumn stirs and winter sings
in shallow pools on sidewalks,
in river beds where torrents stalk.

And the black crow crashes down on the storm,
all light now shadow, all colour now fading,
all freckles now a flicker of what once was,
all changed in the flutter of a wing.

Come has the crow and we cower from its cawing.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on Soundcloud:

SHINING SHADOWS

/ deuxiemepeau / 7 Comments

 

And so falls
a fleet of rain,
another sheet
to soak the street,
another sheen
to shine up shadows,
to wash away the steps
others have taken
along your paths,
to wash the traces
of all that came before.

And so falls
a ray of light,
another shimmer
of the summer,
another colour
to coat the concrete,
to sink into skin,
to bronze bodies
and burn away
the whimpers and whines,
to forget the sorrows
and let the shadows shine.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly