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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.

MatterIt is only a matter of time
until the stone lays down with the sheep
and sleeps.
Rested firmly above the holes
where our eyes used to be.

It is only a matter of matter
until epitaph and eulogy diminish to dust
and sleep
becomes the eternal home,
not where our souls used to be.

It is only a matter of fact
that our words will become reductionist, redundant,
and sleepily
the world will forget
where our words used to be.

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

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Cluck Thiswhen circadias begin to float
upturned on a stagnated river
and you yourself are heart down
with your crest fallen about you
then look for the end in me.

when closing your eyes brings light
and the sun kisses carrion
with your heart clucking openly
about some misdeed, some old seed,
of misfortune from its past - then

then, look for the end in me.

Mother EarthMy 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.

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

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

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

Song: I loved youShe wears pink and I wear out.
You say its not like that, I'm about
ready to get up and shout
that I love you;

and nothing she could do or say
would make my heart look away,
it's only you who's gone astray,
'cos I loved you

You choose anything but me.
Not how this was meant to be.
Anything but me,
so what am I

what am I left with?

and I get that you are moving on
and it's me who don't belong
but I can't believe that its wrong
to still love you

an' now she's making up your bed,
the mem'ries locked up in my head;
I choose to live with them instead
'cos I love you.

You choose anything but me.
Not how this was meant to be.
Anything but me,

Flora at the PassHear me read it

I will never write of the cherry tree,
or think again on its impermanent beauty;
its delicate and breakable bones
or the pale flush of it's cheeks. I will not.

I will never again be pleased
to see its arms outstretched to embrace.
I won't call it my favourite,
or dream of it's presence at the momentous;

but at my wedding, there will be spring-bloom.
In my bouquet, my hair, my heart.
Enthralled in every quiet bud
of every quiet moment, cherries will be.

At my funeral, similarly,
entwined through my white coffin,
there will be the soft reflection
of its frostbitten petals. Even then.

For no matter what I am, or w

I Didn't Hear YouWhen you say goodbye to me - said goodbye to me. I didn't hear you. I didn't really consider the tangible loss of us. I was busy. Because in my mind I was hearing years worth of goodbyes, that run in a steady loop of vinyl to make the white noise soundtrack to my tears. I was busy listening.

You left me for a logical and reasonable reason. I'll never understand it. I'll never really process what your goodbye meant or how it was intended. It was lost on me. I was busy. Because in my mind I was listing all the reasons that I told myself you would eventually leave me over. It was the hummingbird heart of our relationship that behind what I woul

How Do You Like Your Eggs In The Morning?Sunnyside up.
The pan was still warm when I dropped it into the sink. We had eggs. You had them sunnyside up, but I couldn't bear runny egg whites and so I had scrambled. Just in case. You found your right shoe and left. I sat at the kitchen table drumming my fingers against the buttercup plastic cloth and thought about Life with a capital L. What was it all about?

I started to think of breakfast as a metaphor for us. You had it all together. Sunnyside up. I was scrambled. A convoluted tick of a person. I started to consider my life as being thoroughly forked. I watched the birds outside the kitchen window for a while and did not relate the

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.

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.

Browse More Like This

More from `KathrynODriscoll

A semblance - Draft One /Fireworks envy us and throw
their audacious comments into the air.
Let them talk, the jibber-jabber of men
without business of their own to mind.

Let the world reboot and burn
We'll hide it out together and spark -
Spark, flick, ignite,
We'll be the ones on fire.

Of course they envy us, oh
Who wouldn't want their heart alight,
With every word and smile
He deigns to dazzle me with, My Love.

He holds me down, I'm losing
Losing myself to a kind of madness
That only blesses the hopeless,
The hearts of love.

9th Life - Draft One /Celestia dropped the paintbrush into the tray that was balancing precariously on the charcoal sofa arm. She stood back a few feet and examined her work with pride, an even coat of Soot really brought pop to the otherwise Ashen bedroom.

She spotted a drop of the Soot paint on her perfectly Blanc skirting board and quickly picked up the rag and carefully lifted the paint off the wood before it stained it. After a few minutes of careful work she was satisfied that the skirting board would show no sign of her mistake and she looked around again at the room. It was really coming together.

Celestia had decided to repaint her bedroom a few weeks b

Outrunning the Rain - Draft One /Woke up in a hotel a million miles from home,
Further than a phone call from anyone I've ever known
Tied my shoes up tight and stepped into another time
With every footstep forwards, I go backwards, I feel like I'm

Running on again, it's time to outrun all the rain,
It's time to keep on moving, to outlive all the pain,
I don't want to hear your voice, I keep telling you its done,
But I'm not even certain that, I have the heart to run -
Outrun all the rain

Every day is Tuesday as I walk through another week
My mouth has swollen shut, I've forgotten how to speak
I'm sidestepping traffic, a half lived life in lieu
I'm sleeping throug

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Of Nuisance Leaves

by `KathrynODriscoll, Mar 6, 2013, 1:13:03 AM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Hear 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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Of Nuisance Leavesby `KathrynODriscoll

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It started off as a thought about leaves and trees but I guess by the time I finished it u was thinking of this as a metaphor for people. Those around you, are they helping you or themselves? Only you know the answer.

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~Story-of-a-Mind Apr 12, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

...and as a new year begins vows never again to be the victim of leaves
there are so many things we vow never to be victim of again but will fall for again and again every year. But maybe we should take the tree as example still. Also he falls in the same trap every year, he never gives up, shakes them of anew again each year.

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`KathrynODriscoll Apr 14, 2013 Student Writer

_{Nods, exactly. Same thing over and over.}

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~exquisiteoath Mar 24, 2013

Certainly a different way of looking at a traditional image, for that I commend you.

I'm not sure I buy the inversion; you suggest what if leaves are like this, my brain doesn't want to accept the possibility because leaves are the thing that feed the tree, and the fruit. Leaves are the tree's raison d'etre. They are a poet's words.

Linguistically, strong work once again.

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`KathrynODriscoll Apr 18, 2013 Student Writer

_{I'm late responding because April hates me, I apologise :[

I'm not suggesting leaves are like this in reality, I know what trees are all about biologically, just sometimes I like to view things differently.}

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~exquisiteoath Apr 18, 2013

That's fair, and I understand what you are trying to do. I'm just not sure that I can share your vision of them because my vision of leaves is so strong.

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~CatherineFairport Mar 20, 2013

I love listening to you. Every time I see that link, hear me read it. It is like a little gift. Thank you.

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`KathrynODriscoll Apr 18, 2013 Student Writer

_{I'm late responding because April hates me, I apologise :[

Silly, thank YOU for listening :} Love you xox}

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~Zevais Mar 6, 2013 Hobbyist

I need more leaves to cover up my thorns.

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`KathrynODriscoll Mar 7, 2013 Student Writer

I don't know what I need

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