BOOK OF MEMORIES

 

I lift a book and watch as dust particles catch air

(dust; tiny particles of waste matter lying on surfaces)

sentences stir, structure returns to life after slumber,
some things come back- having long been forgotten

(memory; the mental ability to retain and to recall
previous experiences)

I turn pages with consideration, parts pressed back
through time, corners folded over where you wanted
to hold onto a moment for longer, retaining words
that came easy but were lost too soon.

My fingers trace the line of narrow spine still holding
onto crinkled paper like crisped skin that once held us
in firm holds to spite time.

If time was held in paper, I’d take it, like the pages
in this book and fold back the parts too piercing
for the memory and duplicate days where we held
minutes as monumental, recalling them later, after,
when dust settles and weeds overgrow the delusion
that we should have been more.

(Delusion; a fixed false belief, resistant to reason)

I lift the book and watch as dust catches air-
particles of spirits that still matter, recalled from pages
that once held them captive before their chapter came
to its conclusion.

(Conclusion; the end or finish of an event or text).

 

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

WHISPERED WORDS

 

Last night you came calling
like a song to soften the shadows
and found me slipping in between
the silence and the slumber.
Last night you came calling
softly with your whispering words
that filled the longing, soft words
that settled upon my bed like a blanket
to sooth me. Last night, in the sweetened
stillness, you bent down from above,
from far away, from somewhere
beyond the silence and beckoned me
closer with your wisdom, whispering
words, softly like stars in the darkness,
like hope in the loneliness, welcome
words whispered which fell from your lips
and moved amid minds, warm words
that rested softly in between worlds
of sleep and seclusion, that found my ears,
that soothed my shoulders, that caressed
my chest like a breeze, a beautiful breeze,
a beautiful summer breeze that lets you breathe,
that finally enables you to breathe. Last night
you whispered from a world away and I awoke
all the lighter as the night gave way to day.

 

All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly

This is a re-post, i’m still on holiday!!!!

 

WORDS LIKE THE WALRUS

 

What are words
when they don’t just
wander in weary

What are words
when not wild waffle
but wonders
weaved with wisdom
and written with worth

Words
are like water
washing over the reader
in warm waves

Words
are like wings
raising the receiver
from worrying days

Words
are the world

Words
can be whispers
that wake you

Words
can be ripples
that shake you

Words
are like the welcome wind
on a warm weekend

Words
can be the witness
to all that must walk to its end

Words
can be weapons
in a world waged on war,
weak and enslaved

Words
can be wonderful,
like a walrus
rising over the waves

Words are the world.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photograph taken on the Champ de Mars by the Wall of Peace, Paris

WHISPERED WORDS

 

Last night 
you came calling 
like a song 
to soften the shadows
and found me
slipping in
between the silence
and the slumber.
Last night 
you came calling
softly
with your whispering words 
that filled the longing 
soft words that settled 
upon my bed
like a blanket to sooth me. 
Last night 
in the sweetened stillness 
you bent down
from above
from far away
from somewhere beyond the silence
and beckoned me closer 
with your wisdom
whispering words
softly 
like stars in the darkness 
like hope in the loneliness 
welcome words whispered 
which fell from your lips 
and moved amid minds 
warm words that rested 
softly 
in between worlds 
of sleep and seclusion
that found my ears
that soothed my shoulders
that caressed my chest 
like a breeze
like a beautiful breeze
like a beautiful summer breeze 
that lets you breath 
that finally enables you
to breath 

Last night
you whispered
from a world away
and I awoke all the lighter
as the night gave way to day.

 

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Click on the link below to hear the audio recording on SoundCloud:

https://soundcloud.com/damien-donnelly-2/whispered-words

THE END OF THE ROAD, DAY 30, POEM 30

And so here’s to one
For the end of the road,
Words have been written,
Sentences steadily found sense,
Poems put together, pushed and pulled
On pages being published, hauled
And heralded, heard in hushed homes
Where hope is heartily housed and harboured,

Here’s to the unbelievers
The cynical thinkers of thought,
Leaning to maths in the absence of magic,
Scared to be seen perusing poetically
In their palaces of prejudicial pride,
In places where poetry is but a preoccupation
For pansies prancing about while decorating doilies
And fawning over follies, fads and followers of fashion,

Here’s to the ones
Who are missing out,
To those who dare to look away,
Ignore all that is spoken, reject all
That is written, miss the minutes of magic
Mixed with meaning and metre, meandering
Like madmen through a myriad of amused
And confessional men and women, all willing
To shed their skin, to drop their masks and reveal
The sometimes silly, sometimes scary, secrets beneath,

Here’s to the end of the road,
A month of calculating thought,
Converting concerns into so-called
Confessions, finding fact amid the fictions
Of life, figuring out the force within so as to find
The way to pen and paper, from thought to word,
From hand to eye to read, to lips, to mouth, words
For the mind to ruminate and meditate on the meaning,

Here’s to the completion
Of the composition, the composer
Can collapse, rest and recuperate,
Dream again, to look back and laugh,
Not dawdle in the depths of substance
But laugh at the lines he has lived through,
Lingered along, find light in the letting go, rhythm
In the rhyme, consume not oneself in the character
And caution and concern but release those creations
To live and love, to be heard and held without him and to be
Unburdened and unpunished if the rhythm didn’t always fit the rhyme.

All photographs and artwork by Damien B. Donnelly