Broken Echoes Poetry

Subscribe
Archives
August 10, 2025

Honest Words From The Grey Spaces

Visible & Invisible

Lately, I’ve been thinking about visibility—how it’s possible to feel both seen and unseen at the same time.

When I share my poetry, I’m visible. My words are honest, personal, and sometimes raw. Readers see thoughts I don’t speak aloud, glimpses of the vulnerable parts I usually keep hidden behind a calm, competent mask.

And yet, I’m invisible. Not because I hide my work, but because I’m still learning how to get it in front of more eyes. In a world overflowing with voices, mine hasn’t yet traveled far.

This week’s spotlight poem, Swampland, lives in that in-between space—between who I’ve been and who I hope to become, between the heavy pull of the present and the bright pull of the future.

Spotlight Poem:

Swampland

Where I find myself now

One of two extremes exists

Either time doesn’t flow

Or time is all there is

Which extreme do I face now?

I cannot be certain

At least not until I find my way out

But to find my way out,

I must find myself.

He is lost and drifting alone

He is somewhere near

I can feel it

Deep in thought

Wandering softly over the dark terrain

The ground is moist enough

That if I fall I will be cushioned

And if I sleep,

Even better.

And underneath this canopy

Not even sunlight can disturb me.

So I walk aimlessly.

That isn’t right

I have no goal for my feet,

But my mind has a goal to reach

As I stumble over the wet land

I stumble over memories of who I have been.

As I stare blankly at the path ahead

I can see in my mind’s eye what I want to become

But is there nothing between the two?

Who am I

There must be some link.

One day, the trees will open

And I will walk quickly

From this boggy hell.

Some days, “the boggy hell” is just obscurity—the frustration of pouring myself into words that don’t travel far. Other days, it’s the slow trek through self-doubt, exhaustion, and the erosion of old dreams.

But Swampland reminds me: there’s a link between the person I’ve been and the person I want to become. The fog will thin. The trees will open. And when they do, I’ll know more about where I’m headed.

Until then, I keep writing. I keep waving my arms in the fog. Maybe—just maybe—someone out there is waving back.

Upcoming project

I am in the planning stages of a new project and I wanted to share it here, with you, first. This December (2025) will mark the 25th anniversary of the publication of my first collection of poetry “Broken Images”. I am planning on releasing a 25th anniversary special edition. I hope to clean up some grammatical and typographical errors, re-order the poems for better pacing, and maybe include a foreword. Again this is just in the planning stage, but if you continue to follow this newsletter, you will know about the status updates before anyone else.

Thank you for coming along on this journey with me,

—Donnie

Stay connected:
💌 Subscribe to Broken Echoes: https://buttondown.com/donnierwallen
🖋️ Read more at: https://brokenechoes.blogspot.com
📖 Treading Water on Amazon: Order here
📱 Follow me:
Twitter/X: @donnierwallen
Instagram: @donnierwallen
Bluesky: @drwpoet.bsky.social

Don't miss what's next. Subscribe to Broken Echoes Poetry:
Powered by Buttondown, the easiest way to start and grow your newsletter.