[x]

alivei want to be buried in
a grave made of water
because i write poetry
but don't understand it

because i know how to feel
but not how to cope
or how to tell you what
it feels like to die

my mother will cry and
her garden will still grow
but she will not take down
photos on the windowsill

she will age dutifully and
retire, travel the world and
i will only regret not being
able to see her finally happy

my brother grow up without
knowing how much i cared
but he will still think
of me on his wedding day

his eyes will be a window
not to his soul, but a world
of pain and loss and he will
wish that i could say sorry

and the

Hopeful for the HopelessShe leaves poems
tucked into the pages
of hotel bibles,
hopeful words for the hopeless -

though she is hopeless tonight
and the cracks in the wall
only get bigger as the money
runs out and the hotel
turns to motel turns to
some guys couch and
there’s no breakfast
in the morning just
smoke and sunlight.

Sleeping in the park,
there are no bibles
so she slips poems

into a hollow mulberry tree.

She prays for the wind
to forgive her.

Into her palms she inks

psalms and songs,
sets them in with a pin
as she caves.

what is running through my mind when i'm drivingyou have a good face.
and i think that's because you
have a real good heart.

7.I ate your absence for dinner.

thymemy mother and i got high.
it was Easter and if God's house
can be Holy- so can mine.

we burned
sage, thyme, rosemary
fumigating drawers, doorways
the darkest corner of the guestroom
that made the flame play;

"bad energy", we'd say, "we
need
more thyme"

i need more time
before i become the
precarious stack of paper-person
college asks of me.

i already dream
i'm a prostitute because
instead of making love
to the words inside of me
i find i'm
whoring out my poetry.

the next night i'm dreaming
my bathtub is leaking
through the bottom like
a boat sinking. in the morning-

i'm smoking.

okay, i'll admit
i'm jumpy in the

Honestly dishonest.I'd kissed you seventeen times before they tore me
away from the coffin.

This could be tragically romantic but I'm lying;
I wasn't allowed through the chapel doors.

old songs for a first lovethe crow is screaming

& the fields are swaying

& i'm staying

here

with a whisperthis is how we rule the world,
the underclassed
the uncapitalist
(uncapitalised)
the forgotten, lobotom-ised,
relics
of a long lost dystopast.

not with a SHOUT,
we do not argue.
we do not even unsheath
our mightier-than-the's.
we whisper in your children's ears
the memories of what should have been.
the life we all crave.

the death we all crave.
WE do not discriminate
or obstigate
our opinions onto others
pressing the side of the blade
down onto the fles

things i don't know about you that bother me thati wonder what it's like
to fall asleep beside you
in a post coital haze,
and to wake in the morning
to run to class.
do you wake me,
do you kiss my forehead,
do we make love again-
i don't know,
not yet.

and do you wet your toothbrush
before applying toothpaste,
oh,
tell me you don't leave the sink running,
it must get awfully tired.

and what do you dream of
when i lie next to you,
blissfully more than just a body;
what will you dream of
a year from now?
please tell me i can fit into
your big picture
as easily as i can fit into
your arms,
eternally.

if my body could talkit's probably not a good thing
when what you want to say
to your ex boyfriend
is the same
as what your body
wants to say to you:

i don't know why
i still insist on you
when you want
nothing to do with
me;

you don't care for me
the way you did
before;

i wish everyday
that things
would change;

you are ruining me;

i don't know how to
deal with what you're
putting me through;

why can't you love me;

everything you do
hurts me
and i know it shouldn't
matter
but everything that matters
shouldn't, i guess.

what i think i mean
is i need you
to give me my soul back-
i am killing this flesh
without it.

to write badlyis to write
as if the wars being waged
were already over
or worse
forgotten.

145. fire in the moonlightyou're fire
in the moonlight,
adding a million
shades of
yellow
to the burning chill
of night.

everything was
peaceful before you
came
but it's just as
peaceful
now.

i guess what i'm
trying to say
is that you're
the extra pillow
on my bed,
the extra petal
on every flower.

everything is just
so lovely
and
everything is just
so much more lovely
with you.

Bravado.I am a coward
dressed up as a knight,
my shield is smoke
and if you strike
hard enough,

I shatter.

12.53bleeding to death
into the barrel
of your own gun,
memories gnaw
at marrow and
recusant love
eats at veins -

i'll always
be writing
about you

griefloneliness was supposed to be
a castle to be shielded
from intruders

but i seeped through the cracks
leaked onto sand
the way i bled was abnormal

do i get picked up from here
or am i scattered in wind

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More from `KathrynODriscoll

What makes me stay - Draft One /What makes me stay

Guilt and fear.
The basis of a religion.

Guilt, to my parents,
Who have already lost a child.

And fear, of the pain,
Of the pre-silence.

Having enough morality
To fear, and feel guilty,
Does not make me any less insane.

Any less desperate for death.

It just means..
Once upon a time
In a world far far away
Some one took me to church.
And at the time, I believed.

Time To Shine - Draft One /Time To Shine

A symphony in monochrome,
The black and white logic of the world ebbs into our romance.
It was a black day when our hearts met,
You in white, me in pain.
Colour trailed through everything...

Three dozen roses.
Black smoke flushed the skies in a tailspin,
As the chaos of February smashed into the hospital car park.
British racing green.
We settled afterwards into baby blue and a perfect pink.

Flame red head, the little mermaid,
As we settled into our chaotic life of green, gold and grey...
Roses are red, violets are blue.
We swum through translucent days of vermilion
And stayed in love and stayed in tact.

Gold

The Winter Woman - Draft One /Winter dresses nature in beauty,
A fine swaddling of furs and velvets
In the form of sparkling frosts
and sweetly smothering snows.

Clipping diamonds to her earlobes,
She dresses for the Christmas party,
The hard glittering glamour
Of She, the most beautiful of seasons.

Winter dresses nature in its best,
Signs each window with her signature
In crackled spindly hand writings
and goes out into the night, to dance.

The Wedding - Draft One /With this knife
I thee wed
With dark letters
To silent dead

With these lips
A poisoned kiss
All bad things
Come down to this

With these tears
I surrender
And giving up
Is what will end her

With this knife
I me, bled
With dark dreams
Of being dead

With these words
I am breaking
And hoping not to wake up
Aching

With these thoughts
I am cursed
Overwhelmed
and emmersed

With this ring
I thee wed
A ring of rope
Over my head

With this goodbye
That cant console
I commit to you
And pray for my soul.

The Wrong Turn - Draft One /The Wrong Turn

Eyes met and not un met
Mine were for only you in an instant.
Hearts touched and bruised
You left your marks on me.

Scars examined, reopened,
Bled dry and healed,
Flushed out ghosts of the past,
A melody in crimson.

Hands held in hands,
Thoughts held in hearts.
An air of protection that follows,
Those no longer alone.

Kisses now traces,
The tongue runs over.
Erasing, rewinding,
The paths we fell down.

From languid and luxury,
To broken and invisible,
Theres a hole in my heart
Shaped just like us.

What was once held preciously,
Is now thrown to shatter.
From the warmth of your arms
To pieces on the floor.

The Sun Has Died - Draft One /And the world cries crimson tears
From their wrists and from their hearts
As the anguish of knowledge
Tortures the lost souls who remain.

Tears that are just fragments of our memories
Fractions of our feelings
They are mere symbols of our grief
And they flood the weeping globe.

A mournful sorrowful world
With no light left to comfort it
The sun snuffed out for its last good night
And left nothing but the darkness.

And no weak words from mortal tongues
Can describe the deathly silence
As hand in hand in rows to the gallows
We face our own deaths with hope.

For the world is a bleak dark place without you
You who gave light to t

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Where Items of Peace are Weapons

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Halo

by `KathrynODriscoll, Jul 24, 2011, 8:15:12 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Hear me read it

A halo of rope around my neck,
Is the closest to heaven, that I'll ever get.

Haloby `KathrynODriscoll

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

_{----------------------------------

Kathryn O'Driscoll © 2012

Revised copyright 2012, not original date of creation. All rights reserved. All the materials contained in my deviantART gallery may NOT be used, reproduced, copied, edited, published, transmitted, borrowed, duplicated, printed, downloaded, or uploaded in any way without my express written permission, however feel free to contact me should you desire to use my work - as I love to share.

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~PlayinTheDead Feb 7, 2013

Really like the imagery and the shortness of this one: had I not come to read it here, I could have easily taken it for some old, cynical proverb.
One little point - the comma at the end of the first line feels a bit like a hiccup in the flow. Other than that, just bravo.

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 8, 2013 Student Writer

Smiles, thank you so much! It might help if you hear how I intended it to be read here. There is a little pause there because if there wasn't it would just be one sentence, with no pauses to leave time for contemplation.

~Toolepahn Feb 4, 2013 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

This is very sad. I'm surprised, the piece itself is simple (flows well) and short. I never got really short poems like haiku, but anything done a certain way can get the point across to anyone. Good job. ^^

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 8, 2013 Student Writer

Nods... I like to make things short and impactful. (Impactful. Just made that word up.

)

~Toolepahn Feb 9, 2013 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

They should add impactful to the dictionary for our convenience. XD

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 9, 2013 Student Writer

haha I have a dictionary on my website where I'm trying to add the words I make up in my works but there are so many

~Toolepahn Feb 9, 2013 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

That's really cool. Is the link to your website on your profile?

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 9, 2013 Student Writer

nn....yes!

I've only added 9 words to the dictionary though, I am too lazy to go through all the archives and find the words I made up before I started the website x_x but as I come across them I add them in, like Frankensteined. [link]

~Toolepahn Feb 9, 2013 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Awesome!I'll check it out.

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 10, 2013 Student Writer

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