Things between us
have reached such a low
that I'm drunk at noon
on a Wednesday in October.

What if I grabbed the sun
for you, shaking it free
from lacy lattices of cloud,
and gave it to your greennesss?

Would it be enough?
Or are all these drams
of Scotch just turning out
dreams in the early afternoon?

du bist auf einem himmelhohen Weg,
und ich kann nicht folgen.
Die Vögel singen,
und du bist auf dem Heimweg.
ich sehe die Vögel,
die deine Seele empfehlen.
ich vermisse dich,
aber du schläfst im Frieden.

tell me lies under the moonlight
or
just for a night make up
we are sinners
but
under this moonlight you look like a saint
maybe
god won't forgive us
nevertheless
you are mine tonight under the moonlight
with
your sweet lies

when you sleep it's like you never cried,

breathing soft and steady, wet cheeks dried.



when you sleep it's like you never lost,

boundaries weren't broken and lines weren't crossed.



when you sleep it's like you're still there,

and you still smile and you still care.



when you sleep you look young as I,

no crease in your brow and no old worn sigh.



and so if sleep is death just being shy,

is it still so wrong,

to wish

to die?

there aren't enough blank screens
and entertaining fillings
to make me feel like my words have meaning
and that life is worth taking off the gloves
touching
feeling-
breathing in and being thankful for living.

Wooden words-
Stuck Staccato,
And skipping each beat,
Where something was spoken.

I wonder what it’s like to wake up on a beautiful
fall morning
Walk outside on the crunchy, amber leaves
Not a care in the world, nothing bothers you,
Because it’s hard to feel sad on such a brisk, invigorating,
fall morning

They told John his beautiful wife had died.
And, within a few minutes, I saw that man age
ten years. God help us, we, men, can be such
a fragile sort.

The trees brighten red
such vibrant orange
like a wonderful luck
a magical secret
gardens with pumpkins
love is in the sun
yellow leaves amaze.

by, JoyAnne O'Donnell

Wake up.
You've been asleep for too long.
You haven't seen the sunlight and experienced its warmth.

Wake up.
I want to see you living well,
doing the things that you love.

Wake up.
You still have a lot to do.
Achieve your dreams.
Give love.
Celebrate life.

Wake up!
I beg of you.

Wake up!
The world is waiting for you.
I am waiting for you.

When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.

So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.

I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.

Now there were two of them
Separated between thousands
of read texts and timely
chats touched by sound
but not skin  
Awake in the others sleeping
Sleeping in the others awake  
Restless as they wait
Restless as they wait

You left
In an array
Of words
That penetrated
My skin
Like bullets
Leaving wounds
In my soul

my love, daily,
my daily bread,
falls on my
buttered-side
down daily

my love, daily
my daily dish,
pour over my
flimsy flats
for that I wish, daily

my love, daily,
my daily dial,
pick me mine
pricked up ears
the line is deaf, daily

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

Little girl picks up the chalk
Writes her heart
Draws her mind
Cries it all away
Before they can see

Some days I wake up from dreams
unsure,
if I am going to grow up to be
a warrior
or worrier.

As you argue for your pain
it stays a loyal companion

as you open to possibility
you give way to the boundless energy beyond it

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.