RED

  We strike matches along the shiny skins of polished apples, bite into the heat of burning coals that hold no seeds within their core, watch our reflections on the heavy skins of those ripening fruit as if it will show us a truer representation of who we might be because it too holds a […]

Read More…

IN PARIS. A PAIR. TASTING

  We ate late, always- dinner a meal of plucked observations as much to titillate as to taste. We devoured each other, always- before dessert added too much sweetness to our combative copulations. Sometimes I pressed my mouth so hard against your lips that you’d have to swallow your own words. Sometimes when we weren’t […]

Read More…

BOOKENDS; BETTER BOTTLES

  In the shadows not yet departed from former students, since departed, in confined compartments the Polish left to the Irish, red vinegar wine (as vulgar as the vultures who drowned in its deluge) caught itself in corners still not drunk by the blow-ins still bleating about the burnt beef and sodden soil as we […]

Read More…

AGEING FRUIT IN THE HOT SUN

  Beat and blow and bare away, let not blood rip beauty black. We watch, we want. “I want hot peaches, honey,” you said. “No music for me, no sun”   All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly This is a repost as I am busy baking birthday cakes for myself and co workers

Read More…

OUR SHADE IN TIME

  Look for me in the layers lost, in the careful caress that concerns the contours of form and finesse. The million meters mounded into magic, turned and twisted into tastes now termed timeless, look for me in the yards that yield towards yellow, that burn into beauty, like ochre opening, that grow towards the […]

Read More…

THE CURRENT OF CREAMY COFFEE

  I sink beneath your skin like sea sweeping over sand, you, a thousand grains glistening while I wash over you in warm waves, your salty sweat sweet below my current. I slip between your lips like cream coming into coffee, our senses fired like frothed fluid as we pound passion into fragile flesh once […]

Read More…

TRIGGERS

  We still taste the scent of semi lucid laughter edging over apples being skinned and sweated on extra ordinary Saturdays of sweeping and stews, still taste the crisp coating of confusion beneath smiles barely swimming over tears there was not enough threat to trace. We still trace, still blindfolded, those outlines of imagination now […]

Read More…

FIRST THRUST

  There in the crook of hope, like fluff caught in the navel, of youth barely tasted, (I had barely licked air) of freedom newly found, (note: first flights often fail) of fulfillment before it failed (before we faded), I am in a bed in Belfast no longer bloody (the city not yet I) no […]

Read More…

SHANGHAI STREETS; FAR FROM HOME

On pressing parades pedestrian pass on motors, on mass, in autos, under umbrellas, in downpours of flashing lights of signs I cannot identify, on roads that have no rules, with crossings that heed no caution for those crossing, the tens crossing, the hundreds crossing, the thousands trying to get through with rising intonations 
to parks, […]

Read More…

THE CURRENT OF CREAMY COFFEE

I sink beneath your skin like sea sweeping over sand, you, a thousand grains glistening while I wash over you in warm waves, your salty sweat sweet below my current. I slip between your lips like cream coming into coffee, our senses fired like frothed fluid as we pound passion into fragile flesh once fresh, […]

Read More…