THE BREAKING OF THE BLUE

  Tall is the man willing to rise before the break of day beneath the blanket blackness and tip toe into the still untempered tide blindly, current cast as yet unclear, and trust in time to lean in with light. We can be cold creatures staking our claim with breath of blue into our ever-shortening […]

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FALLING THROUGH SPACE

    Ghost clouds gather over an ice-cold ocean of marble we cannot break through. Maybe there is something deeper within its depths that we have missed.   All breath is naked. Movement has been muffed. The air rigid. Nothing left to cover up.   I blush under your absence or do I blush before […]

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GLUTTONY HAS GOT THE GOAT

  There is a goat dancing in the parking lot and this train cannot proceed along its track, interlopers interrupt on intercoms; there are packages of suspicion on the trail up ahead and a goat in a lot dancing round the cars. There is a goat dancing in the parking lot as a woman tells […]

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DARK LIGHT, PART 1: FAR FROM

  And slow falls the heaven’s breath, drawing on those days of dawns; dewy with that blanket white crispness below the song of the bluebird (do you see; beauty can be blue even when the bird isn’t black) soft thrills trembling through the forest as fine folds of frosty fur find its form in frozen […]

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THE SWEPT AND THE SWEEPERS

  Fragility falling through fine flecks of fair filigree, perfect patterns of individuality speckled on imperfect individuals. Snowflakes melt on steaming skin thin on time, too thick to break through, you cannot always sink below the surface of an iceberg, we cannot break through all that lays beneath, all the lies below the surface, it […]

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HALIBUN, BREATHTAKING

Round runs the route over rolling rocks to mouths of baying blue where sand is seduced by the suckle of the sun soaked shore as diamonds dart above the depths. Cut is the coast into rugged regal, beauty the more buoyant when more is taken and the frailty unfolds. By this bay of breathtaking, this […]

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THE GARDEN OF THE MOON

– There is a shadow, like a dream too delirious to light with language, whispering more of what swam away than smears this still water I trudge through beIow a bitter moon that’s made his garden in this breast of man. All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly with the aid of the magnetic […]

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