Doullan . . .
. . . Photo's and Poetry
Friday, 13 January 2017
Tactical Manouveres In The Dark.
When you
need them most
(that
gentle touch, warmth, tender love)
and
they're simply not there
(because
they choose to be with another,
elsewhere)
you begin
to wonder
do they
really care,
(enough)
or are
you just a convenient,
front
(behind which
(behind which
games are
played)
tactically
manoeuvred,
(meaning?)
you never
get laid,
(teased)
love left dying
in their conditional shade...
The Tease |
A Year Has Passed.
Written a year ago but never published, this depicts my feelings at the time when once again love was lost...
Hurting To The Core . . .
. . . trusting her completely
life & heart on the line . . .
. . . the blade goes in . . .
. . blood on my sleeve
once more,
struggling for air . . .
. . . swimming for shore . . .
. . . betrayed,
hurting,
to the core . . .
. . I'll never trust you now . .
. . . a heart
once pure,
in love,
now so unsure . . .
. . . 'I love you' . . .
. . 'I am you, you are me' . .
. . 'You're mine forever now '. . .
. . . 'I'll never let you go' . . .
. . empty words,
reverberate
just another game
to the selfish impure . . .
. . 'I wanted to save you from her' . .
. . Oh really?
You're so much more worthy?
How to use a man . .
suck him in
chew him up
spit him out . .
. . thanks for being
my saviour
but it's nothing
to shout about,
it only lasted
eight weeks . .
. . next time
don't play games
with the life & heart
of another,
I'm someone's father
and I love her...
...you see...
...feeling depressed,
suicidal panic attacks,
ain't so good
for me,
I have
nothing left
to live for . . .
. . you took my career,
my love, my life . .
. . you played me!!!
When 'I' come first there can be no room for the other, for love, for 'I' am the mind, the thinker, the selfish one . . and 'I' know not love that is of 'we', 'I' will always be too selfish to simply 'be' . . to love unequivocally, but 'I' will take the life, heart and soul of the other for the thrill of it, 'I' will suck them into my life, chew them up and at my leisure 'I' will spit them out . . that is selfishness at its cunning worse, it's the devil incarnate, and it is the enemy of love.
Hurting To The Core . . .
. . . trusting her completely
life & heart on the line . . .
. . . the blade goes in . . .
. . blood on my sleeve
once more,
struggling for air . . .
. . . swimming for shore . . .
. . . betrayed,
hurting,
to the core . . .
. . I'll never trust you now . .
. . . a heart
once pure,
in love,
now so unsure . . .
. . . 'I love you' . . .
. . 'I am you, you are me' . .
. . 'You're mine forever now '. . .
. . . 'I'll never let you go' . . .
. . empty words,
reverberate
just another game
to the selfish impure . . .
. . 'I wanted to save you from her' . .
. . Oh really?
You're so much more worthy?
How to use a man . .
suck him in
chew him up
spit him out . .
. . thanks for being
my saviour
but it's nothing
to shout about,
it only lasted
eight weeks . .
. . next time
don't play games
with the life & heart
of another,
I'm someone's father
and I love her...
...you see...
...feeling depressed,
suicidal panic attacks,
ain't so good
for me,
I have
nothing left
to live for . . .
. . you took my career,
my love, my life . .
. . you played me!!!
When 'I' come first there can be no room for the other, for love, for 'I' am the mind, the thinker, the selfish one . . and 'I' know not love that is of 'we', 'I' will always be too selfish to simply 'be' . . to love unequivocally, but 'I' will take the life, heart and soul of the other for the thrill of it, 'I' will suck them into my life, chew them up and at my leisure 'I' will spit them out . . that is selfishness at its cunning worse, it's the devil incarnate, and it is the enemy of love.
Friday, 1 January 2016
Counting The Hours of a sleepy head . . .
Twelve
to bed
resting this
weary head.....
One to three
(maybe four)
hours of
deep sleep
for me.....
Four
awake once
more.....
Five
drowsy
with a cup
of unpoetic tea,
but still alive
it's clear to see.....
Six to nine?
Just an unfolding
stitch in time....
....however,
let's make
the futuristic day
sublime!
Doullan - counting the hours of a restless night.
The Passing Storm
Changing
like an autumn leaf
caught on the wind
fear ascending
love receding
blown asunder...
. . unhinged . .
from the tree of life
forgetting one's
deepest reality
the perfection
of beings harmony...
. . calm . .
. . the passing storm . .
love ascending
fear receding
freeing mind, body & soul...
. . being . .
is unconditionally loving.
Doullan -
Sunday, 13 September 2015
You Are The Sole Author of . . .
. . . the dictionary
that defines
you.
Tell me,
again,
whom
again,
whom
wrote it?
Is it better
to pass the
Buck,
Sole Author;
not give a
Fuck . . .
. . or be the
Soul Author . .
. . . Love Unfolding
as is . . .
. . or be the
Soul Author . .
. . . Love Unfolding
as is . . .
. . . Sole Author
of the dictionary
that defines
You?
Doullan - a 'Soul Author' whom happens to give a fuck.
A Sole Soul Author Shining Bright On the 'Eve of Night'. |
Blues Swayed Shoes
The melancholic
swings his hips
to remove
the livin blues,
stepin to & fro
back & forth,
beguiling
the partner at his side
in his blues 'swayed' shoes.
Doullan - fancies some 'Blue Suede Dancing Shoes'
I really do swing and sway my hips with some rotation, it comes naturally to me, as it did for Elvis, anyone care to tell either of us we're not man enough? I figured as much - HA! ;-)
swings his hips
to remove
the livin blues,
stepin to & fro
back & forth,
beguiling
the partner at his side
in his blues 'swayed' shoes.
Doullan - fancies some 'Blue Suede Dancing Shoes'
I really do swing and sway my hips with some rotation, it comes naturally to me, as it did for Elvis, anyone care to tell either of us we're not man enough? I figured as much - HA! ;-)
Friday, 20 June 2014
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