[x]

The DancerHear me read it

The night I met Jessie she was beautiful. She swayed to the almost intolerably loud music as if her bones were made of it. She was something unknown. I remember the sharp cut of her hair had it run across her cheek parallel to her carved out cheekbone. It looked like a wig, I wanted to touch it. I wanted to touch her, and see if she felt like plastic. Who could ever believe that someone so perfect could be so real. I regret that. I regret doubting her reality.

Eventually she bought me a drink, she called it an Appleté but trapped in the pulsating fuchsia lights of the club it looked purple. It tasted like jealousy; sour and

Never The Gold.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.

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.

~♥~♥~

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

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

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

MaybeJust give me one dream that isn't see-through.
One substantiated claim to reality,
that I might hold onto life with.
Every quivering cell, mid-osmosis, begs you
for a shred of dignity with my tea.
Just one chance for something heavy,
something hard and room temperature. Real.
I don't want to look through my day dreams
and see someone else's face there.
I don't want to dream of those people
who may make, or break me, in the future tense.
I am tired of milky white and reflective black.
It is time for a life of colour and hope -
and not looking back to see if the past
matches up with the jigsaw map to the end game.
I want to be in the game, part

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

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.

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.

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.

40810If only you were soulless.
If you were mindless, blind,
you and I could make a beautiful disaster.
The press would write of our brief affair;
they'd paint me (the woman in red) as pathetic.
They will not consider how I need your love
or how it pains me so deeply to throw myself at you.
I will not be remembered as a poet warrior.
I'll be the eternal survivor no more.
All who think of me will shake their bowed heads
and tearfully remark;
If only you were soulless.
If you were mindless, blind,
You wouldn't have been such a bloody disaster.

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

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

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4. One vertebral column with or without spinal cord to suit buyer. Can be gift wrapped to taste with a personalised card. Leave y

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Tarot Moon - Draft One /Tarot Moon

The tarot moon
Reads my fortune
As I lay before it

The freezing sun
Reads my mind
And knows I am lost

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And I hold her
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Tears wont return you
In deliverence to my arms
And thoughts wont murmer to you
That I miss you, come home

Letters wont reach you now
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My tiny one
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Sleep softly now and hush
Hush and dont say a word

Words wont return you
Words are never heard.

Tell Me I'm Beautiful - Draft One /Tell me I'm beautiful

Tell me I'm beautiful,
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Ten - Draft One /Ten

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Strewn lazily across furniture,
She pays no heed to pose or stature.
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From an old leathered scrapbook.
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II.
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But I can make you
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And make you wish you were dead
I can make you
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And the people in it, she said

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(It's all that matters)

An' I can make you
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I'll be the hole in your head
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And even hate me, she said

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The Betrayals of Wuthering... - Draft One /The Betrayals Of Wuthering Heights

From my body
Pours scarlet sin
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You broke my heart
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Tore it apart
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Ground it up
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Scream my name
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Away from me
And now I know
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Your wicked ways
Ignored from the start
I still love you
Though you crushed my heart

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Terminal

by `KathrynODriscoll, Feb 6, 2013, 11:39:55 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

I 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.

Terminalby `KathrynODriscoll

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

©2013 `KathrynODriscoll

I wrote this....before.

~~love 0 0~~

~~joy 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

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~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

!ThatFunnierPiece Feb 22, 2013

Oh. Oh. I like the idea. Dark at first, and playful in the end. Peculiar, though I guess things are so.

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 23, 2013 Student Writer

I am twisted!

Reply

~Kazul9 Feb 9, 2013 Writer

I'm not very good at commenting on poetry, but I'll give it a go!

I love the pacing of this piece, and that dark and violent, yet slightly melancholic tone of it. Beautifully done, as per usual.

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 15, 2013 Student Writer

Thank you so much, gosh :} I'm so glad you like this!

Reply

~Kazul9 Feb 18, 2013 Writer

You're welcome!!! And you know, I don't think there's been a piece of yours I've read that I haven't liked.

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 19, 2013 Student Writer

Well thank you!

Reply

~Kazul9 Feb 20, 2013 Writer

You're welcome!

Reply

*SouixsieQue Feb 8, 2013 Professional Photographer

so f-ing heavy and real!

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Feb 15, 2013 Student Writer

Thank you :>

Reply

*PuzzledHeartBox Feb 7, 2013

Love, the illness that makes us endure whatever hardship life can throw our way.

Reply

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