FLEETS OF TIME

 

Touch tenderness
such tenderness
touch time
such fleeting time
tender the time we take to touch
we touch so tenderly through fleeting time
through fleets of time
like sailing ships
caressing seas
amid serenity
amid storms
such storms
stay the storms
time will teach us what we can weather
whether the waves will wash over us
or tear us down
each tear can fill an ocean with tears
each touch can bring us closer to the shore. 
We sink or swim in time
though time
through this fleeting time
in tender holds
caressing
and touching tears
digressing.

Touch tenderness
touch time
so tough to hold tenderness throughout time.

All words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available at Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/fleets-of-time

PAUSE AND POISE

 

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Running
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:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/pause-and-poise

CATCH THE KISSES

 

Catch cotton kisses
blowing briefly over bodies
on beds, on beaches
basking, baking.
Catch kisses
cuddled in cotton sheets
freshly laid kisses
caressing carefully closed curtains. 
Kisses cuddled
on sandy beaches as tides tick through time,
tickling time
with waves washing over us.
Clean, crisp
cotton kisses, candy kisses,
too delicious to last too long,
long kisses
on cotton sheets, worn with laughter,
folds of light laughter,
making movements of moments,
moving moments,
catch the moments
of bodies on beds, on beaches
where tides kiss toes,tickle toes,
wash away woes.
Summer kisses,
cotton candy kisses
on soft sheets of surrender,
like the sand surrenders to the shore,
like the sea caresses the sand,
kisses
in waves never lasting
though sinking so deep
below the surface.

All words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/catch-the-kisses

DAWN ARRIVED

 

And so light leaned in as we had done
though not for fever, though not for fun,

although we had found and we had felt
that rarest gift which cannot be shun;

on one fair night a love alighted
when two from far took their breath as one,

yet Time, being so when love slips in,
seeks all connections to come undone,

when the dawn arrived, shrouded in shame,
born to tear apart what had begun,

she pleaded with the light unfolding
but hearts lost hold for the day had won.

All words by Damien B. Donnelly

SOOTHING SOULS

 

Mass has passed

and dolled up dames
roam the rues

with coiffed up curls
and cardi’s over shoulders
in summer
as Scholl’s sooth souls soles,

widows
window shopping
for treats to tickle time

that has left them behind.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

BEACHES BROKEN

 

I’m chasing 
beaches broken 
slipping in between sands sinking 
feet in search of footing firm
contemplating connections
between the sand and sea
as if to find reflections 
between the land and me.

I’m chasing 
beaches broken 
slipping in between sands sinking
watching tides through time trickle
dividing and subtracting
what’s lost and left to see
as if they’re reenacting 
what the years made of me.

I’m chasing
beaches broken
slipping in between sands sinking
currents coming to covet
corrections and corrosions
that trickle out to sea
along with the illusions
of who I thought I’d be.
I’m chasing
beaches broken
slipping in between sands

sinking

skipping over shallow streams

dissolving

while holding on to hope.

 

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/beaches-broken

CHASING THE DAWN

 

I’m flying though time,
drawing on daylight
to the west of me
while in the east
darkness descends,
the light already shadow,
the sun already set
but here, by the heavens,
there is only more and more
light, a day without dusk,
a journey without ending
yet I am not ageless.

I’m flying through time,
drawing on daylight
that rests with me
as west takes east,
courting cotton clouds
that blow through blues,
couriers of careful candy
we cut through curiously
and climb upon cautiously
as altitude tests turbulence
while I know nothing is certain
and I am not ageless.

 
I’m flying through time, 
gaining hours on hours, 
unending light from the sun
teasing, while the moon
is missing from movement,
I’ve seen sky slide into sea
seamlessly caressing currents,
I’ve seen sinking sands seep
from salt spits and dissolve,
to rise and shine and die,
while I chase the sun
but I am not ageless.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio available on Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/chasing-the-dawn

MINUTES MOVING

minutes  moving

There are but minutes now,
minutes in motion on metros, 
minutes moving in on me,
on my identity 
on my mark, on my leaning,
on my meaning, 
meaning I am moveable
like a feast, as he said,
A Moveable Feast,
meaning I am manageable 
malleable,
maybe unremarkable, mistakable.

There are but minutes now, 
minutes moving in
on my metamorphosis,
on my undoing,
on my unbecoming,
is it unbecoming? 
on my being misunderstood, 
misinterpreted, misrepresented, 
missing.

I am famished,
the feast has moved,           on
mindless to the matters
that manipulate me
mould me
remodel me.

Minutes, there are but minutes
multiplying on metros moving,
on me, in motion

minutes making minutes minus minutes.

 

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken in the Arts et Métiers Metro Station, Paris, France.

LANES OF LIFE

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Time tears
through flesh and bone
as it moves towards us
through us             past us
while we try to
linger longer
onto that fragile hold
we have on love

but we are just
cars and connections
caught up in the cacophony
trying to stand in the right lane
with the right person
at the right time
as the clock ticks on
like a heartbeat
like a time bomb

I captured you
on film             in a photo
as they kissed and craved and smiled
while you moved toward them
while you cut through them
then swept past them

before they even saw you.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken in Hong Kong on a rainy night when two lovers held each other tight and life rushed past them.

Audio version available on Soundcloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/lanes-of-life

SHADOW AND LIGHT

At 22,
I knew as much of myself
As the exotic world
I’d just found
With streets willing me
To walk them
Witness them
And be wooed by them.
My twenties
Had typically emerged
As a decade to be a no one;
An empty slate to be carved upon
Before my thirties would find me
And shout me with substance.

I’d lost parents
Before knowing them; given up
In a sacrifice of selflessness
Almost incomprehensible
And found
In the arms of another mother
A love that would prove
Incontestable.

I searched,
During infantile years,
Amid childish ego
And innocence,
For connections
To those around me;
The mother
Loved so unequivocally
And the father
Aged in aggression,
With a gap too great to bridge
And so I turned to walk
Shadowy miles of roads in my head,
Clumsily cramming teenage years
With classically confusing
Childish dribble,
Trying to sound like a grown-up
In size 6 shoes,
Feeling different,
Unknown,
And, more often than not,
Undiscovered.

Finally,
I braved knocks on dark doors-
Frequented bars in back lanes
And alley ways,
Away from the eyes of the pious
Whose ignorance
Bullied the boys
With different desires.
I kissed
My first boy
At 18
Behind a sofa
As excited as a child
On Christmas morning,
Finding courage
Behind shades and acceptance
In a community I had become
No longer
Soul member of.

Cuddling and kissing progressed,
Over time, to sweaty,
Fumbling, amateur athletics
Behind the lights
Replacing shame and catholic guilt
With newfound feelings of freedom
As I began
To notch my way
Onto bedposts
Of various conquests.

Between courtings
I often cried
For lovers in whose arms
I should never have laid
And wondered why I ran
From others in whose embrace
I should have stayed,
All but memories
Patterned into the tissue
Of my sleeve-worn,
Still learning, heart,
Cherished moments
That wished to be relived
Along with others
That longed for time to fade.

I had assumed these
To be bruises
As I fell upon these new
Foreign streets
But have recognised them since
To be no more than lifelines,
Imprints, echoes merely of
Shadow and light.

They were all
Important diversions
Along the road,
Pivotal points
Goading me
Into this very direction.
Some of them
Fell away by your banks
And others settled in,
Ingrained themselves like streets
That mapped themselves
Out in front of me
And gradually,
Over time,
Carved their way
Indelibly
Inside of me.

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