Month: April 2020

Rusty-red

~ W. Donovan ~ 4 Comments

In the centre of space, lost
in noisy narrow streets
Escapes with the cool wind
strokes an icy stream of water
Only to get lost
in massive iron construction
Falls under the wheels of speeding cars
brought to the limit of endurance
overwhelmed by concrete blocks
At the same time, it stops and admires
In the comfort of the trees
catches the first breath of life
Slowly emerging, crossing the border
to see what he couldn’t see
feel what he didn’t feel
hear what he was deaf to
Circled like a falcon, grabbing every detail
Swirled in the midst of infinite beauty
…

© W. Donovan

Dears, this poem features in my second volume of poems which is out next week!

Crying out loud

~ W. Donovan ~ 21 Comments

Dear Readers

I’m not sure if you remember one of my post where I mention about a trip that I wanted to take. It was supposed to be now…

I’m crying out loud. I know I shouldn’t complain because people are dying. I cannot help it, though. It might sound silly among the wave of fear, but I just wanted to disappear for some time. The trip was supposed to be a stop where I end one chapter of my life and start another one. I wanted to treat it as a time when I hit a reset button and erase everything what’s unnecessary in my mind. Just pure walking.

After that I wanted to come back and start a new life, in a new home, doing a new job. I’m encaged instead. Waiting… counting… hoping…

Where all I have is a fantasy.

Stay safe ❤

Blue

~ W. Donovan ~ 9 Comments

I’ve been so sad today.
Don’t know how to change it.
Please, tell me
how to cure my soul
to stop feeling the sadness
so deep
it turns into nothingness.
I’m not sure if you…
if you could change
anything.
Rip my melancholic heart
out of my chest.
Would I be happy
if I saw you
swirling around tables
whispering magic words.
Not when my eyes bleed
with sadness
staining my emerald dress.
You wouldn’t change anything.
Please, let go of my hand.
I’ve been so sad tonight.

© W. Donovan

He asks me…

~ W. Donovan ~ 4 Comments

He asks me whether his life makes sense
when he cannot walk
when he doesn’t have strength.
I ask whether my life makes sense
when I don’t want it
when I feel empty.
Though I have strength
though I can walk.

© W. Donovan