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The White ThingsNothing is as far away as a minute ago.
No matter how hard you row against the tide
we can never reach it, never return there.

It's hard to sleep in the light of my regrets
that creeps through curtain and barriers
to rot away and bleach all things white.

It's hard to sleep knowing that no distance
is as far away as sixty small seconds ago.
Immalleable, we rot, and things turn white.
United, We WriteHear me read it

0hgravity, if by some divine fortune you should decide that today is the day you will fail me, then let me soar through the ChemicalSkyline. Grant me a-lovely-anxiety that raises a storm InTheStarryNightSky for me to riseandbe above all else. Let me soar.

How I long to be the frail rider-on-the-storm and not a victim of the RoamingShadow, Rogue-Of-The-Night, that BlackVelvetNightmare of my nights and days. I long for awaytobefree, won't you grant it to me?

I desire to be great, to feel greatness, to be more than one of many Sad-Writers spinning Sacred-Literature into SanguineEpitaph after saturninesweetness. scarletwave of
OIt permeates everything
It is the cells. It is the cell
in which I am rotting.

The sheen over my eye,
the flesh I rip from the side of my nail,
the teeth I grind it with.

The tears, blood and sweat.
It is below carbon and hydrogen,
embedded in the air I breathe.

It is sleeping under my fingernails,
It is the undeniable, genetic, atomic truth.
Oh, my oxygen permeates everything.

It is the cell.
Finding Neverlove - Draft OneHear me read it

I have never loved you.
I did not love you since the day we met,
I did not love you the moment
I looked into your beautiful eyes.

I have never loved your soft voice
As it whispers my name in adoration
And I have never loved the look in your eyes
When you look at me.

I don't love your hair,
Or the way you look in the morning,
Half asleep and vulnerable and shy.
I do not love you.

I did not love you at the first touch,
At the first kiss.
I did not love you the first time,
Or the second time,
Or the last time;
Not even then.

Listen to me carefully -
I have never loved you.
I will never love you.
I will not love you until my
BuriedUnder the paprika house,
are the bones of my father
and nestled between rib
and reason, is our love.
A chance secondI lie awake, staring at the cornices.
3AM: my fingers worry at the corners of my sheet.
My anxiety worries at the corners of my rib.
I bite and tug and huff out my misery
As the silence keeps me awake.
I lay with pressure of your absence
Pressing down over my nose and mouth.
A soft asphixiation of the heart, of the sanity.
It is a hot grey night in London.

You are awake, startled by the sunlight.
7AM: you can't lift your weighty skull from the sheet.
The day sirens, but you stay, settled,
Under the weight of your shroud, your loss,
Only the silence keeps you awake.
Unknowingly, for the first time in weeks
We are unintentionally in sync;
Laid
ShockwaveFoetal
Trying to fold the pain up
To trap it between the paper cut limbs.
Curled up
Protective
But the shockwaves come
Pulsing from inside
Destroying cells
Radiocactive
Curled up
To trap it between the paper cut limbs.
Trying to fold the pain up.
Foetal.
MutantHear me read it

I am a mutant.
                   | My skin does not sallow in the sun
                     and I do not blush jaundice through my cheeks.
                   | I do not have extra fingers, or toes -
                     although my spine;
                                                 it boasts an ironic vertebrae,
                                                 it is a long tally of the hearts I have broken
                                                 and when I straighten my spine the bones Pop out of place.
                                                                                                     
Rock BottomThey say a rolling stone gathers no moss,
so when I shudder to a halt
The rocks in my feet continue to grind.
I feel the sand in my lungs
and the regretful mist silting in my heart
as the waves come back in
reaching eagerly for my legs, spooling, churning
over me. Rooted in my misery.
I know the rocks in my feet will help me drown.
Sometimes, it's the little things.He always told me I was deep.
An unfiltered distillation of a humanitarian ocean.

He accepted me, gills and all -
  He knew that I needed my eccentricities to breathe
         under the seascrapers of pollution
               that hung over my head.
 Or he said he did.

At the end of it all,
he tugged the gills open to expose me;
    my innards trailed across the coral reef
       as I swam trustingly forward, hoping for the best.
 I tried to believe.

I believed him, gills and all -
But eventually, he left me, with holes in my sides
   Where he had spooned out my intestines
      To tether them to a boulder.
 I tried to breath
ParchmentI speared you with a         black-ink pen.
I tried to balance           the weight
of our weare-worn         shoulders.
Tried to counter         it with beauty
and hopefulness        , with my hopes,
persistence &         with my dark love.
They came to        see it in hundreds,
Droves, of         similarly seeking
hope and         a reason to continue.
Reasons         to love, even when it
hurts.         Reasons to try when the
vast         weight of differences 'tween
us         can't be fixed by adding
a         single strike of strength
        through the middle. Our love
      wasn't strong enough for poetry
     to save. It crum
HAIKUWRIMOCOMPLETE 2013

February 28th, 2013

Dire desperation
A feeble whimper for help;
roar of these raw times.

February 27th, 2013

Gluttonous ash cloud
sucks the moon's blood
and swallows the night.

February 26th, 2013

Bark! An explosion!
Angry bodies escape the
network of lung cells.

February 25th, 2013

Silently cloning,
multiplying, honing in,
determined to kill.

February 24th, 2013

Tea and sympathy
readily available
for my dear sister.

February 23rd, 2013

I will hold my breath
as the north wind does the same
waiting for your love.

February 22nd, 2013

He hovers behind;
Hamletian apparition.
Always following.

February 21st, 2013

A lo
TerminalI want to kill you.

I want our love to be terminal,
And for it to be wrapped
around your heart tight when you die.
I want you to be looking
into my eyes when you do,
And I want you to know
what I have done to you,
                           for you.

I want our love to be terminal,
Or rather; til death do us part.

I meant what I said,
I want our love to last until you die,
Or I die,
Or beyond that.

Or; simply,
I want to spend my life with you.
Of ForestsPinecones are the skeletons of foetal trees.
They are the hopes, desires and dreams of a forest
reduced to the brittle, breakable bones under it all.
They are the unburied memories of loss.
AfterIt follows me.
My silver skeined ghost.

An almost imperceptible thread;
only visible when you shine light
    directly upon it.
It follows me.

It rides the underground.
It hides under bridges,
Under trains.
It is woven into the spools of tar
         that form the roads between.

Inevitably if I walk too fast
it reminds me -
Like the tug of stitches in your cheek
that reminds you; you have lost your wisdom.
It reminds me.

It trips me in doorways,
when my mind is elsewhere.
If I look away from it -
           - it slips round my neck.
Another knot to throw over the beams
it mauls me without a fair chance.

I tried to sever it. I can't.
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More from `KathrynODriscoll

Invisible Girls - Draft One /Let's digest a gritty moment and make it into pearl,
I am trying to be friends with the invisible girl.
She's chasing her shadow and I can't seem to catch her,
I try to stop her drowning, meanwhile I'm going under.

/ there are patterns to this moment,
there must be corners in this sphere,
as we talk ourselves in circles
around the truth (but nowhere near) /

Try to hold her hand but she walks through all my walls
Try to understand but she just talks me into holes
It takes a quiet mind to listen, help a broken heart to mend
But with mirroring cracks in me I am unable to pretend

I can't find you a bright side, or the sunlight you can
Lonely Girl's Dream - Draft One /Come, give me a dream
Set my heart on fire -
I just realised I am an island.
With no man before like I am.

Alone with the fishes,
I gaze up at the stars,
You're too far away to touch,
Come, give me a dream.
Marilyn and Sarah - Draft One /she lazes in her cacophony of sound
as they hammer in the final nails

thud
thud
thud.

the solemn solider drives through the woods.

I always wanted to live forever,
she thinks.
Preserved in an image of perfection,
on screens and sepia photography

I want to look like Marilyn,
she breathed,
into his ear in the dusky twilightted
Evening
air.

Well you can't. He replied,
Dragging deep from his cigarette

(which had a slightly bent tip,
which reminded her of the past
forty-seven minutes and made her
blush)

You're too beautiful now.
He allowed the sleuth of smoke
to roll off the tip of his tongue with the words

- Oh that tongue
Second Edition - Draft One /The first edition was rough and ready.
It wanted to be read,
its pages wanted to be flush
With the fingerprints of others.

The second edition had torn corners,
and smudges where the readers tears
Stained through the low quality ink
and made puddles of emotion in the words.

That was her best work.

The third edition outwrote itself.
She edited the heart out of it
and encased it in leather.
Oh, to be a Second Edition.
Sans Serif - Draft One /You are not my wallet or my hairbrush.
Neither to make me look pretty or rich.

You are not my oven nor my hoover.
Here to cook for me or clean.

You are not a dog nor a cat,
A loyal idiot or a fairweather pet.

You are not toilet roll, razors or carrier bags,
A thing to be used and then disposed of.

You are not photos to be edited,
Nor brand to be re-created.

You are my heart;
An inperfect, dark and twisted organism,
Throbbing and struggling for breath.

You are my heart;
Broken but not destroyed,
Loved and in love,

You are my heart.
Seattle - Draft One /We inhaled a very quiet nausea,
It sank through our esophagus into our hearts - somehow.
Somehow we wheezed our way through,
Another sleepless night [in Seattle].

When the sun didn't rise we didn't look for it,
We put our hearts where the sun don't shine.
The loneliness seeped through our bones.
Another hopeless night [in Seattle].

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five elements - one soul

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[x]

Mother Earth

:iconkathrynodriscoll:

My body is the earth;
See how under this bruise
A seed of malcontent sleeps.
See what grows out of each pore
As the pain pours over again.
There is rust in my fingerbeds
That poisons the roots
Of all good that hopes to grow here.
I am the convulsing, revolution
of the convoluted Earth...
I am the tectonic blades that clash
and shout when I curl up and hide.
You will feel me when I tremble,
and fear me when I explode
for under the magmanimous skin
There burns a core of hate
That can't be marred by human hand.
:iconkathrynodriscoll:
Just some thoughts again... I don't hate anyone or anything in particular (aside from the obvious :P) but today I feel churny and raw.

Another new word for my O'Driscoll Dictionary! Todays word is

magmanimous; magnanimous with characteristics of underlying churning emotion (such as magma under the earths crust)
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:iconsanirimarrone:
~SaniriMarrone May 6, 2013
I am definitely going to confuse this new word with magnanimous, which means chivalrous, generously forgiving, unselfish, etc.
Actually, that might make for an interesting effect, using one to suggest the other... Emily Dickinson does that in at least a few of her poems that I've read-- "plashless as they swim" being one example. She was talking about butterflies/moths and either disturbing nature by accident, or whether or not there's an afterlife, or both. I have no idea what "plashless" means, but I know it wasn't a typo.
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:iconkathrynodriscoll:
`KathrynODriscoll 4 days ago  Student Writer
:giggle: Yes, I make up words a lot. Someone has to!
Reply
:iconlombregrise:
*lombregrise Feb 2, 2013  Professional Writer
This piece is feat here / Cette pièce est invitée ici : [link] :rose:
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:iconkathrynodriscoll:
`KathrynODriscoll Feb 8, 2013  Student Writer
You spoil me!
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:iconlombregrise:
*lombregrise Feb 8, 2013  Professional Writer
:D
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:iconaurora9912:
*Aurora9912 Feb 2, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
I am not sure whether to be thrilled or worried about the fact that I can now, for some reason, figure out the O'Driscoll dictionary word meanings as I read them, as if they are already true. ;-)
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:iconkathrynodriscoll:
`KathrynODriscoll Feb 2, 2013  Student Writer
Haha well that's a great sign for me! Shakespeare often merged words or changed the meaning of them in his plays and no one was there to explain to the audience, they just were accepted as successful words or not based on the context info they got with the new use. That's what I aim for, f you don't know exactly what it means it should be semblant of a thought or feeling enough that you don't pause to wonder about it.
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:icon0hgravity:
*0hgravity Feb 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
You will feel me when I tremble,
and fear me when I explode
for under the magmanimous skin
There burns a core of hate
That can't be marred by human hand.

--loved this bit

and the opening lines.
Reply
:iconkathrynodriscoll:
`KathrynODriscoll Feb 1, 2013  Student Writer
Thank you. I'm definately not sure about marred though!
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:icon0hgravity:
*0hgravity Feb 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
welcome
hmmm, what exactly were you trying to say with 'marred', hurt?
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