HUMBLE AT THE HEART

  Humble at the heart of this landscape, this dreamscape I’m training through, I’m taken by its blossoming breast; forests firing like volcanos that have shun their rest, luscious leaves of lava sweep through cities for man has no control over the mountain just as nature has no defence against the molten flame as fiery […]

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IN THE SEOUL

  This city does not sleep, the wind as wistful as thoughts I cannot gather, here, on this sojourn to the south of Seoul. Horns honk along highways waking drivers out of daydreams the night can’t decipher and we buckle up and giggle briefly in back seats but I cannot distinguish those star-bound lanterns hung […]

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A SLIP AWAY FROM BLUE

  Eyes a slip of grey from blue in a city not known as home, on a mountainside to shelter a temple, she is as welcome as the wind is warm, she was there before us and we were caught before we knew it. She carves life, carefully, like the Buddha etched into stone, the […]

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NO COMPARISON

  And they say that man is master and should marvel at all he can make but there’s no mistaking the meaning of majesty when the seas and heavens shake.    All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

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GOLDEN HARMONIES

  Sight sees, on Sundays, beds of bowing sunflowers, bowing in beauty, not weeping from weary, caught under careful clouds; to comfort, not to crush, sweet simplicity in growing gardens, growing gold, going on, going green. Sight sees, on Sundays, harmony reigning majestically.     All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

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BALLOON

Balloon, the balloon, see the balloon… see thoughts float through space, meander through the mind, wild thoughts, drifting thoughts, black thoughts, orange thoughts, thoughts arriving unannounced, uninvited, unaware of the current climate, thoughts that rise like balloons on silent streets on sleepy Sundays in the suburbs to shock and surprise (though if no one ever […]

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JOURNEYS, PART 14, AT THE RISING SUN

  Sandy shades of dust speckle the ground and gallant tones of green dot the landscape from which the scent of olives ooze, before mixing with the aromas of musk, distant Morocco and the comical smell of burning tires. At dusk, I was driven by a blind taxi driver, judging by his driving, along a […]

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