[x]

In absence of a poem.I chewed my pen to the nib
and swallowed the ink thoughtlessly,
but no matter how long I thought,
I couldn't say what you mean to me.

I tried, I tried and I tested,
every word in my diminutive range,
but I screwed up more pieces of paper
and happened upon something strange;

I noticed words, which have served me,
for all of my formative years,
had no power to convey my gratitude
for the times that you dried my tears.

Whenever I doubt myself (often),
You're the one who tells me I'm wrong
You lift up my chin and remind me, wait
for the good things that will come along.

I can't find a way to express how
you are the saving grace in my head.
So

Undying LoveShe screams, pain holding her, hands holding her hair and pulling tight, each strand reins to her conscious will. The drugs running through her system become a geas, an imposition stemming from the necessity in her soul.

The tetter barked and shouted it's way down her arms, her misery congealing in her wrists and at her throat, forming a lump that pressed down weightily on her trachea until clawing a breath in was more effort than she had energy for. She choked on a sob and the angular bite of the sound released some of the tension. She fell.

The beige, tiled floor rose to greet her decrepit, falling form. Undone, as if a string on her soul

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.

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

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

Star-writHear me read it!

It is nebulonic fate that we should dance
together in this burning bald ballroom
as the flames lick up the sepiatic walls
and drip curled paper down upon us.

It is our right to spin each other here
in the torrentous reign of flames and ash
as the chandelier, already hanging,
spits and sparks at us, trying to take us too;

and as everything we ever loved or cherished
in porcelain veneer or hand-crafted sycamore
crumbles to a close, still the thought remains-
that it is our star-writ fate to dance on.

Thy lips are warmOf all the words that mouth at love
and soften it with tongue and tooth
None will ever justify this breakage.
Never will there be diction enough
To make a heart salve, or tears unwept.

There will never be a word of woe
That suits to the shape of the thing.
Though many mouths may speak
of love and all her many expressions
airs, graces and confabulations.

None will correlate the meaning truly
how I loved for him, and he not for me.

ScarsSee the sharpness of my tongue-nib
As the metallic taste in my mouth draws out
A barking cough, forced out
By the dirty nicotine lining my lungs.

See the blade of stubbornness
That slices across my cheek bone;
An amalgamation of all the times you pushed me.

See the residue in my eyes,
The remnants of all those times you forced me
And I forced myself not to cry;
Those tears condensed into a thick blinding syrup
That colours all things red.

See the crinkle in my nose,
The wrinkles on my heart
As I remember how you didn't love me. (Don't love me).

See the burns on my psalms
And fingerprints singed off
By all the times you called me nothing

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.

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

Perfect on PaperWe cut hearts
into paper to make streams
of love.
That was my impression of it.
That you ripped
off
the pieces you didn't want
until you got something that was
pretty.
It's no wonder
that I can't believe that someone
would think I was paper-perfect,
or loved.

~♥~♥~

At Least Your Body Doesn't LieClandestine kisses, of peaches and pearls
with half written romance by half witted girls.
Your tongue tells a tale as strong as the liquor
each passing heartbeat taints my heart bitter.

Your inaccurate adaption of saccharine truth,
whispered affections with the afflictions of youth.
You lie with your eyes and deceive with your hips;
I die in your arms and taste death on your lips.

Liar boy, lover boy, whom I love the most,
lift up your glass for a seraphim toast.
You lie when you speak but can't lie what you feel,
I know what you moan to my teeth is all real.

The Food ChainCherish swam through the ocean sleepily, her eyelids bobbing over the dark orbs on either side of her narrow face. She exhaled bodily, her fins expanding and then slowly contracting in time with the water rushing in through the minute slashes that ran down her sides. Her fingernail sized heart trembled vivaciously, on the edge of a violent flurry as she skirted past a Dorado unnoticed. Her mind was elsewhere, circling, circling, like a Sprat in a see-through spherical piece of coral. She slipped down through the seams holding the ocean together, down to the ocean floor. Here, far from the noise of the surface dwellers, she could forget. She c

SunburntMy sun-blistered heart
has an angry red skin
that peels and flakes;
sobbing wood-shaving tears.
They collect on the ribcage floor
making a dirty black bed
for the heart to lay in
when it sinks - heavy -
at the end of each day.
It tries to shed this skin,
an amalgamation of former loves
sueted into a shell;
it wants to be free of the past;
but my whole, burnt raw heart,
bites at itself in your name,
turning rabid on itself
and picking leperose holes
out of its memories.
It eats itself,
and I hold onto the railings
and try to breathe.
Try to colonise my life sentence
Until a dark period grinds me to a stop.

Of Nuisance LeavesHear me read it!

Leaves clutch their ropy fingers around the tree's limbs. The zesty leeches bloom, crack open overnight and slip silently up the nearest oak or maple. They pierce the crunch of bark and penetrate deep into the rubbery veins.

They feed. They pauperize plum and peach until they are heavy and brown; heavy laden with the stolen sap.

When at last they reach their fill the tree can finally shake them off emphatically, desperately, until at last it is clean again. The tree reaches its black bones to the sky in praise and as a new year begins vows never again to be the victim of leaves.

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More from `KathrynODriscoll

Quietly - Draft One /How quietly love dies,
Without affair or funeral,
Without reason or substitution,
Where are the mourners?

How quietly love dies,
Bring me my hysteria!
Bring me the flood
Of turpentine and tears..

Where are the cracks
in my skin - in my heart?
Where is the reality,
That he doesn't want me any more.

The Polish Electrician - Draft One /He didn't want to believe,
Held his head in his hands and he wept.
He lay down his funeral shoes
by the side of his bed, and he slept.

He wandered and pondered
and thought and he fought,
With himself on a puppeteers string

Til late in the night
He gave up the fight,
and took off his old wedding ring.

Kissed a cigar goodnight,
Flicked ash on the floor,
and by the following day,
He followed no more.

The Odd Couple - Draft One /She liked the taste of dragonflies,
and the smell of sweat in the morning.
I often found her watching concerts,
Or dancing in the garden in the rain.

I liked listening to the sunrise,
Watching dew upon the early morning grass.
I liked tasting the curves of her body,
and smelling her tears fall once again.

The Love Song - Draft One /We wrote the same love songs
With different words
and a variation of the melody
But in the core of it
It was the same.

We recited depictions of our ideal love
and spouted them as our own
As original
We rewrote the same love songs
With different words.

The Master's Wife - Draft One /Bound an' gagged and dragged away,
Depression came for me again today,
Took my clothes, as I took my life,
He came back to claim me as his wife.

Threw me, exposed, to cellar floor,
Lost in darkness, no light, no door,
Filled the room with the toxic gases,
He feeds daily to subservient masses.

I shivered until death came for me,
His hand on mine still I could not see,
Stood and observed my body, the wreck,
Then stepped up and snapped my neck.

Bound an' gagged and died anyway,
Blood dyes the cellar floor blue today.
Yours in life and yours in debt,
Play with the devil, that's what you get.

Crumbled broken, to the stone cold floo

Shakespeare in Love - Draft One /May I not adore you?
Should you command me not to,
I doubt I will comply -

It seems an impossibility
A task greater than I.

May I not beseech you,
To look upon me with your favour?
I wish so greatly for it -

It seems an impossibility
Even I have to admit.

May I not call to you
and find some bewitching word
To spell upon your heart?

It seems an impossibility
To rely on that of a dark art.

May I not love you then?
You may flog me and flagulate
I never shall atone.

For it seems an impossibility
That I feel so much - alone.

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Never The Gold.

by `KathrynODriscoll, Feb 13, 2013, 10:16:19 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

I want my silver back,
I need to melt it down and forge a new connection
With someone else.
I want all the precious bits of myself
that I so willingly quarried for you.
I want my silver back.

Never The Gold.by `KathrynODriscoll

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

©2013 `KathrynODriscoll

_{Weird title huh? It comes from the phrase "Always the silver, never the gold" if that helps.

The really sad thing about this poem is that it's totally untrue.}

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~Athazagoraphobias Mar 9, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

This is quite a beautiful concept. I really like your use silver and gold here.

I'd like my silver back, but at the same time I don't. Those pieces of myself I've shared with others were given in love. I'd rather not tarnish that with hate, especially for something I can never take back.

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Mar 10, 2013 Student Writer

Some people didn't deserve it in the first place though

Reply

~Athazagoraphobias Mar 10, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

That's the worst part. You can't always tell... or if you can, you choose to ignore it.

Reply

Mood: Joy

~Thisntme Feb 28, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

This poem strikes true for me, but I will admit: being part of the Common-wealth does have its benefits

!

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 28, 2013 Student Writer

Reply

~Story-of-a-Mind Feb 21, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I love this. Recollecting your pieces from a broken connection to form them into something new.

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 21, 2013 Student Writer

Nods, I wish it were that easy!

Reply

~Story-of-a-Mind Feb 24, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I guess easy things won't make us grow

Reply

Mood: Love

~WinterLeave Feb 14, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I know that some day you will give all your preciousness to someone, but you'll never lose it!

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 14, 2013 Student Writer

I hope so!

Reply

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